Reignite (Extinguish Book 2) by Darhower J.M

Author:Darhower, J.M. [Darhower, J.M.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: J.M. Darhower
Published: 2014-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

Lucifer stood in the quiet parking lot, his back to the old motel. It was nearing dawn, the sky still dark, only a faint orange glow spilling out on the horizon. The town was quiet, most everyone asleep.

Everyone except for her.

She was still working.

He wasn't sure why he was here. He hadn't even thought about it. He tracked Abaddon around the godforsaken world, jumping from place to place, before ultimately ending up right back where he started.

He was weak.

She was tempting.

Lust was his favorite sin, but he was beginning to dislike its counterpart, the one called greed. Because he was insatiable, especially when it came to her. He wanted more, and more, and more. It was never enough.

He wondered if it ever would be.

It would have to be.

He knew he should stay away, that he needed to stay away, to keep his distance, but he couldn't. As much as he tried, he always ended up back here. Warnings be damned…

The door to the motel jingled, soft footsteps starting through the parking lot. Six o'clock in the morning, Lucifer gathered. Probably not a minute later. Humans were good with time. Peculiar things, how they monitored every hour, minute, second, scheduling themselves to utilize every bit of time they're given. He supposed it made sense, when you're granted only a few decades on earth. Sixty, seventy, eighty years, if you're lucky.

He'd squandered more time than that in a long card game.

Time for him always meant nothing. A thousand years was a breeze. Six thousand was barely enough time to get amply pissed off about being trapped in the pit. He never realized how much time he'd wasted until he was staring down a ticking clock, his time with her running short.

It caused something to materialize inside of him when he let that thought simmer, something he'd never felt before. Guilt.

Guilt, because there was only one to blame for the human's short lives, and contrary to popular belief, it wasn't Eve.

"Coffee?"

He closed his eyes briefly, letting the sound of her voice wash through him, before slowly turning around. Serah stood just a few feet away, eyes fixed directly on him. Although he knew, deep down, she saw him, his eyes still flitted around the parking lot, certain there had to be somebody—anybody—else that she was speaking to. But they were alone.

"Coffee?" he asked. "What about it?"

"Do you want to get some?"

His brow furrowed. "For what?"

"To drink," she said hesitantly. "And, I don't know, I thought maybe we could hang out and… talk, I guess."

Coffee. To drink. To hang out. To talk.

With her.

Lucifer stared at her for a moment. Logic told him to turn her away, but that goddamned greed manifested, begging him to take every second of her short life she would offer him. She was only given so many, after all. If he said no to these, she may not offer him any more.

"It doesn't have to be coffee," she said tentatively. "I don't even like coffee. We can get some breakfast at the diner down the street.

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