Weaz-adj leaned over and peered into his face. “Huh! He’s smaller than I thought he’d be, and Tom Ellis is much better looking.”
As Lucifer had rather enjoyed Tom Ellis’s interpretation of him, he chose not to take exception to the actor. Weaz-adj however, was soaring up his shit parade. The fucker couldn’t power a light bulb with the innate power in him. No, the real power player in this coven was his pretty hag. She possessed the raw potential of the witches of old.
The wheelchair squeaked into place beside him, and Lynn put the brakes on.
Outrage flooded through him, and if he’d been capable of it, he would have incinerated the fucking thing. They were intending to put him—Lucifer. Prince of Darkness. Father of Lies. King of Hell. The Great Deceiver. Morning Star. And yes, Weaz-adj, most beautiful of the fallen—into a wheelchair.
Bianca crouched behind his head and slid her arms under his armpits. His head lolled on his useless neck and dropped his cheek on her full, firm breasts. Her great breasts wouldn’t save her when he broke free of whatever foul magic she’d used to bind him.
Lynn scuttled to his feet and lifted them.
Patty slid her palms beneath his arse.
Was she feeling him up?
Patty winked at him. “Sorry.”
“Okay.” Bianca panted against the ear not pressed against her spectacular tits. “One, two, three…lift!”
A lot of heaving, grunting, and panting followed—most of that in his left ear—and moved him a bare inch closer to the wheelchair.
“Aaand…heave!” Bianca rasped.
They got him close enough to prop his spine against the chair.
“Lift!” Bianca groaned.
Lynn got his feet higher than his head, and Patty very definitely grabbed both his arse cheeks.
The girl frowned and folded her arms. “You’re not getting very far.”
“Really, Carmen?” Bianca spat and gave her a glare, that if circumstances were different, he would have admired.
Carmen huffed. “It’s not my fault you didn’t think about how heavy he is.”
Bianca’s growl vibrated through him, which might have been delicious—different circs.
They tried to lift him a third time. At this rate, he was going to have bruises from Patty’s fingers.
“Could you help?” Bianca scowled at Weaz-adj.
Weaz-adj scoffed. “So now you need me? Not enough woman power?”
Bianca screwed her eyes shut, which he thought was a pity because they were quite spectacular. “I swear to God, Christen. I’m going to—”
“You can’t have it both ways.” Carmen smirked at his purple-eyed hag. “You can’t criticize Christen for being a man, and then turn around and ask him for help because he’s a man.”
“Carmen.” Patty snorted. “You need to get your head out your own vagina and start thinking clearly.”
Bianca breathed deep. Once, twice, three times.
He knew this because every time she did, his head rose and fell against her lush, pillowy breast. It could be argued that his current thoughts made him as bad as Patty in the pervy department. However, he had not put his head in its current location, but it had been placed there for him. He had also not caused the useless neck muscles that prevented him from moving said head.
Patty looked at him. “Girl is dumber than a box of rocks.” She swung that weapon of all who had mothered offspring, the maternal stink eye—universally feared and not to be trifled with—at Weaz-adj. “And you. Get that flat ass of yours over here and lift him into the chair before I snap your pencil dick in half.”
Even Lucifer knew better than to mess with a mom who’d spent her last fuck, and Weaz-adj hopped to.
Unwanted groping aside, he definitely liked Patty.
The next five minutes removed any trace of pleasantry from him as humiliation was heaped on humiliation. With Weaz-adj heaving, sweating, and cursing, Lucifer was manhandled into the wheelchair.
After a whispered apology, Lynn held his head as they wheeled him out of the small room housing the hell gate and through the basement.
A sharp tingle of awareness announced the arrival of Raphael on the earth plane. This band of misfits probably hadn’t counted on his counterbalance archangel following him to the earth plane to keep the power balanced when they’d summoned him. Instead, they pulled, pushed, jostled, and shoved him up the basement stairs in a spine-jangling shit show.
At the top of the stairs, Bianca stopped and leaned over with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “He’s heavier than he looks.”
Raphael’s power signature strengthened.
“Shit.” Bianca stilled, and her eyes widened. She grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and heaved. “An archangel just arrived, and it’s probably Raphael.”
“It’s probably Uriel you’re sensing,” Weaz-adj said loftily. He gave Carmen a knowing smile. “The archangels all have a power signature.”
“Nope.” Bianca jogged them down the darkened corridor toward the exit. “Uriel has been here since we started Macbeth. This is a new signature.”
“As if you could tell.” Weaz-adj scoffed. “Archangel signatures all feel the same.”
No, they most definitely didn’t, and if Bianca could sense the difference, she was even more powerful than his initial assessment.
