Raphael looked back at her. “You okay back there? Hungry?”
Even the idea of eating made her stomach roil. “Not hungry, no.”
“Bianca is regretting her actions last night,” Lucifer drawled.
Bianca nearly choked on her spit.
“Drinking.” Lucifer’s eyes gleamed a challenge at her through the rearview mirror. “Honestly, I don’t know why you humans do it, when it only leads to misery.”
She wasn’t going to take that lying down, or stretched out, so she sat up. “There’s a lot about humans you don’t understand.”
“She makes a good point.” Raphael chuckled. Then he fidgeted in his seat and pouted. “How much longer?”
“About another hour or so,” Lucifer said.
“Ugh!” Raphael dropped his head back against the rest. “Wings are so much better than cars.”
Bianca was certain they absolutely would be.
“Next time, I shall carry Bianca as I fly.” Raphael grinned at her.
“No,” Lucifer snapped. “If Bianca flies with anyone, it will be me.”
Raphael gaped at him.
Bianca did some gaping of her own. Did he like her? No, she was putting the facts together all wrong. Okay, he’d been about to kiss her last night, but he was Lucifer. He probably went around kissing other people all the time. Looking the way he did, with the sexy growly thing, and the unmistakable air of power about him, people were probably lining up to be kissed by him.
“Didn’t you lecture me yesterday about being too conspicuous with humans?” Lucifer glanced at Raphael. “I’m sure none of them would notice a winged man whipping above their heads with a screaming woman in his arms.”
“Hey, now.” The woman in question needed to defend her honor. “What makes you think I would be screaming?”
“Fine.” Raphael crossed his arms. “You could, at least, let me drive.”
“No.”
“Excuse me.” Bianca wanted to make sure they understood her. “I’ll have you know I am not a screamer.”
Lucifer’s gaze met hers, and his eyes blazed. “That remains to be seen.”
Bianca had no response to that and subsided into a squirming silence.
She must have dropped off, because she woke to the changing sound beneath the tires. They’d turned off the main road and were driving down a tree-lined lane only wide enough for one car. Branches scraped the side of her car and made her wince. Twilight had fallen, and the looming trees surrounded the car in a creepy gloom. “We’re there?”
“Yes.” Lucifer stopped the car in the abandoned lane. “If he is here, I want you to wait in the car and let us handle this.”
Aaand Lucifer’s control freak was on the rampage again. “Yeah, no.”
“You are safe in the car.” Lucifer turned around and gave her a stern look.
He should know better than to think that would work on her. “I’ll be perfectly safe coming with you. This is Christen we’re talking about.” She gave him a smirk. “Unless you’re afraid of Weaz-adj?”
“I’m not arguing with you.” Lucifer jaw muscle ticked.
“No, you’re not.” Bianca raised her chin and scowled back. “And I’m not waiting in the car like some quivering damsel.”
Raphael hummed an agreement. “She doesn’t really seem like the quivering damsel type.”
Lucifer kept glaring at her.
Bianca kept glaring right back.
“Fine,” Lucifer snapped and put the car back in drive. “But if you get hurt, I’m adding it to the list of shit you need to atone for.”
That list was so long already. “No problem.”
Lucifer focused on the lone lighted window in the ramshackle cabin. Although cabin was too romantic a description for the rundown clapboard house at the edge of the lake. Someone had attempted to cheer it up by painting the exterior a jaunty blue. They should have saved the paint because it only made the dwelling look even more depressed.
“What’s the plan?” Raphael’s voice was low, his gaze fixed on the cabin.
“No plan.” Lucifer parked the car. “I find Christen. I ask him once nicely for the grimoire. If he refuses, I beat the crap out of him until he tells me.”
“Old school.” Raphael nodded his approval. “Simple and effective.”
Bianca made a soft noise of protest. Whether it was for Christen or the situation, he chose not to ask. He wished she would do as he asked for once and stay in the car. Things were about to get ugly, and he’d rather she not see that side of him.
What was he thinking? It shouldn’t matter to him what a witch thought of him. Increasingly, however, it seemed that it did. All day, he’d sensed her fretting over what had nearly happened between them. That he wanted to reassure her baffled him.
