57. WEN

If I expected Godric would swoop down, pluck me out of Lorcan’s arms, and leash the Hell out of me for suggesting I’d find someone else to do what he won’t—I was mistaken.

He only comes close enough for his scent to flood my lungs, and his heat to scorch me. But the tormenting bastard remains cloaked.

I add getting wet while in Lorcan’s arms to his ever-growing tab, and spend the rest of the flight outlining my forthcoming bestseller; How to Kill a Heartless God(ric).

I’m certain it’s going to take the charts by storm by the time Noctis comes into view. Regretfully, the sight is enough to force my mind away from my creative plans to murder him.

The girls are going to be so jealous when they learn I saw it from this altitude. With the multi-hued lights pulsing from its gleaming facets, and the bass thrum throbbing through the din of wind and blood hammering in my ears, Noctis looks like a city-sized jewel, and feels like the exposed, pounding heart of the region.

The view is gone all too soon when Lorcan, as always, swoops down like a missile.

As I dry heave, the jerk has the gall to chuckle. “We have to do something about your hair-trigger stomach.”

I glower at him as I straighten. “Hair-trigger? I only ever threw up after your cousin swatted me with the force of a meta bomb, and you hurtled me at the speed of sound!”

He takes my elbow and leads me toward the gates of the soaring, sprawling edifice. “That was acceptable when you were a puny human. Now you’re a big, bad Null, you should weather other big bads.”

“Well, my stomach—and hair—don’t agree.” I try to finger comb it, to no avail. “Now I’ll go in looking like a cavewoman caught in a hurricane!”

He grins unrepentantly. “The wild look suits you, my Godricsbane.”

“You’re lucky I had nothing in my stomach to eject. If I had to go into Noctis reeking of eau de puke, I would have made sure you needed a ride home!” I shoot him a venomous smirk. “Next time, I’ll null your feathered ass into the speed of a geriatric bicycle.”

He gasps in mock-horror. “What if you null my feathered ass right out of the sky? That wouldn’t be in your best interests.”

“Nah. I’ll just use your strapping bod as a landing pad.”

His gaze grows fond as he waves to the angel bouncers at the doors. “Ah, Wen White, I adore you more every day.”

My answer is blasted away when strobing light and blaring music almost knock me flat on my scrawny ass.

“Don’t do anything I would do, Wen,” Lorcan shouts in my ear, adding another blow to my compromised balance.

I glare up at him. “Semi-thanks for the bumpy ride, and no-thanks for the unsolicited advice. I’ll do whatever—and whoever—I want.”

He catches my arm as I shove past him. “I mean it, Wen. Godric?—”

Stomping my foot, I yell, hoping the bastard hears me. “Godric can fuck himself!” Since he won’t fuck me. “It would at least put that massive dick of destruction to good use.” Lorcan coughs a laugh as a terrible thought hits me. “Unless he is putting it to good use and …” that’s why he finds it so easy not fucking me?

“If you only knew.” Before I yank on his Life Essence until he tells me what he means by that, Lorcan sobers. “I’m serious, Wen. Let’s not have a mad Godric on our hands.”

“That fucking grump has no right to be mad at anything I do!” Since he won’t do me.

Yep. It’s official. I have nothing but sex with Godric on the brain. Searing, destructive, borderline-fatal sex.

Lorcan snorts. “As if Godric cares about rights.”

Bitterness fills me up to suddenly stinging eyes. “Tell me about it. There’s a saying among the demons, and it applies to his Godawful psycho ass perfectly. Shows no mercy and lets none descend. So excuse me if I don’t care about how he feels.”

Lorcan’s huff is mirthless. “Oh, you should care, Wen. We should all care. The last time he got angry he decimated a metropolis.”

My shoulders slump. I still can’t wrap my mind around that. He shrugged off a freaking nuclear explosion, then expressed his displeasure to the manager by wiping DC off the map.

“Bear in mind being nuked was a personal beef.” He gives an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t want to imagine what he’d do when it involves you.”

A snort escapes me. “When it involves me, he’s all talk.”

His eyes grow pitying. “Ah, Wen, Wen,Wen. You’ve got so much to learn about our favorite Angelhole.”

“Well, I’m done trying to. Now piss off. I wanna go dancing and drinking with my friends until I forget he exists.”

He sweeps an arm out with a mock bow. “Just don’t make me come stop you from potentially catastrophic provocations.”

“As if you can stop me, Chicken Wings.”

His sigh is theatrical as he overtakes me inside. “I doubt anything but him could. Enjoy yourself, my monster-in-progress. Only not too much, for all our sakes.”