you, but I can see your post-orgasmic glow from over here, and judging by the fact you look like you might not be able to move your lower body, I can take an educated guess at his performance.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my face with both hands. Hiding under the covers would be too obvious, right?
“Anyway—” crunch “—I just wanted to stop by real quick to express my gratitude. Keep up the good work.” She winked at me. “Oh, and Az told me to give you this. He’ll be along later.”
She stood and sauntered to the bed, pulling my phone out of her pocket. As she handed it over, the screen lit up from the movement.
Lit up.
As in, charged and on.
I took the phone with shaking hands, checked the battery. Ninety-eight percent.
My stomach flipped. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Hm.” She regarded me with a thoughtful expression. “It’s the photos and recordings, isn’t it?”
I nodded, my throat tight. It was all I could do not to cradle the fully-charged phone to my chest.
“It’s nice to have pictures,” she said quietly. “Not just memories that fade away over millennia.”
When I looked up at her, her gaze was soft and unfocused, her features dulled by a sadness that pulled at my heart.
“If we’d had this…” She indicated the phone with a nod. “...I might still remember her face.”
“Who?” My voice was raw because I anticipated the answer.
“Our mother.” The smile she gave me seemed brittle. “She used to sing for us. I remember that it was lovely, but her voice is now lost in a thousand forgotten moments.” She blinked, and the sadness fell from her face like a veil. “Ah, look at me, being all maudlin.” Clucking her tongue, she pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Call me if you wanna chat or hang out. I’ve got the best masseur on my payroll, so if you need to give those sore muscles of yours some non-sexual loving, let me know. I mean—” a saucy waggle of her brows “—you’ll need to be operational again when Az comes back.”
She was almost out of the room when she halted, hand on the doorjamb, and looked back at me. “Oh, and he said Hael is waiting for you in the grand room. Something about a hellhound? You’re supposed to call for an escort to take you there when you’re ready.”
Vengeance! I perked right up.
Azmodea sashayed away, and I took a moment to unlock my phone, open the Photos app, and look at the album of my mom. Just a moment, just long enough to relish the fact I could see her face again.
I had no idea how Azazel had figured out that I hadn’t dared charge my phone on the dubious outlet in my old suite, or that it would mean this much to me to have my photos accessible again. I honestly didn’t care, as long as I could look at the pics. I’d have to check this suite for an outlet later, to see if maybe the setup here was a bit more trustworthy to hook up my phone.
As I navigated out of the albums folder in the Photos app, my gaze got caught on a new pic in the Recents folder. I narrowed my eyes and clicked on it.
An image of Azazel filled the screen, shirtless, lounging on a chair, a seductive smirk playing about his mouth, one eye closed in a playful wink.
I stared. And stared.
Azazel had taken a selfie. On my phone.
Never mind that he’d somehow managed to unlock it, I couldn’t fathom the fact this demon of two thousand five hundred plus years had held this device, contemplated its features and decided to hand it back to me with photographic eye candy of himself.
But wait, there was more.
I swiped to the previous pic and blinked at the close-up of his forearm. It was a Live Photo, with the effect of having recorded a second of movement before the camera snapped the pic, and that movement...was him flexing the muscles and sinews in his arm.
I bit my lip to keep my grin from splitting my face.
Swiping back again, I discovered...a video. Pulse racing, I clicked Play. Azazel again filled the screen, recording himself with one hand holding the phone—he was still deliciously shirtless—picking up something from outside the camera’s field of vision. It looked like he was in his bedroom, close to the seating area near the balcony door.
Lightning from outside the window played over his sculpted chest as he