Reignite (Extinguish #2) by J. M. Darhower Read Free Book Online Page A

weak.
    The
thumping in his chest had grown louder, harder, more frenzied when it happened,
like something in his chest was tied to the pain.
    "It's
called a heart."
    Lucifer
turned away from Adam at the sound of his Father's voice, finding Him there in
the garden. He'd heard his thoughts. He'd been watching.
    "The
sound you hear is his heart beating," He continued, stepping closer.
"Its what keeps Adam alive."
    "How
long will he live?"
    "Forever."
    Forever .
    Inferior
yet blessed with the same eternal life as Lucifer.
    "I
wouldn't call humans inferior," He said. "Just different. They have
weaknesses you don't possess, but they also have gifts. They can't sense you,
but they can sense things that you can't."
    "Like
what?"
    His
Father motioned toward the rose bush, the same one that Adam had injured himself with. "Smell this."
    "What?"
    "Place
your nose to the flower."
    Lucifer
did as he was told, but nothing happened.
    "You
can't smell it," He explained. "Everything around you has a
fragrance. You can see these things—these flowers, these trees—but
Adam experiences them. He breathes them in, he tastes them, lives them. He's one with Earth; you're
one with Heaven. You're different creatures, Lucifer."
    Lucifer
turned back to Adam, observing him as he interacted with Eve. Both were filled
to the brim with love—love for each other, love for their Father.
"What's their purpose?"
    "To
exist, and to love, and to worship," He said. "They're my
children."
    Lucifer
hesitated. "And what's my purpose?"
    "You
know yours."
    To
see their Father's will through, to serve Him, and obey Him. "Does that
will include these humans? Does serving you mean serving… them ?"
    Lucifer
didn't have to wait for Him to respond. He knew the truth. But it still nearly
knocked him over when the answer resounded around him. "Yes."
    Lucifer
stared at the humans. Just moments ago he'd viewed them as inferior, but now he
felt differently. If anything, it was clear to him now that he was the subordinate here.
    "That's
not it at all, my son," He interjected.
    "Son,"
Lucifer said quietly. "Am I your son?"
    "Of
course you are."
    "It
doesn't seem that way." He shook his head, turning away from Adam to
glance at his Father. "Not anymore."

    Serah's heart was racing fast, battering her
ribcage like a jackhammer. Luce heard it the moment he apparated in the parking
lot outside the motel. It was coming from a room on the far end of the second
floor. He tensed, straining his senses, trying to make sense of her excitement,
but it was a puzzle that wouldn't come together without seeing the picture.
    He had to see.
    He had to know.
    In a flash, he zapped
straight up, appearing just inside the open door of the dingy motel room. He
sensed no one else, spotting Serah right away, the tension in his muscles
receding as confusion washed through him.
    She was dancing .
    He could faintly detect
the music from this distance, streaming straight to her from the tiny speakers
lodged in her ears. She danced to the beat of the song, swaying and bouncing,
oblivious to everything around her as she absently changed the sheets on a bed.
    Luce could do nothing but stare. Common sense told
him to back away, to put some distance between them before he did something
stupid, but it was hard to be logical when you're a passion-fueled creature not
known for doing the right thing.
    Ever .
    He hadn't been this close to her since she woke up
a new person... a mortal. He could smell her, the natural sweetness, and the
light fragrance of flowers, with a hint of sweat lingering on her skin. And he
could feel her warmth from where he stood, feel it radiating from her and
absorbing into him. Her heartbeat was louder so close, tempting him, calling to
him.
    What harm would it do to
touch her one time? Just once, a graze of her skin, to stand flush against her
body and breathe her in. She'd never know, as long as he was willing to let go.
    In a moment of weakness,
he took a step toward her, just as she