Unforgiven (Fallen 5.) 2 csillagozás

“Why Lilith?” Cam asked. “Do you craft everyone’s Hell this way?” Lucifer smiled. “The dull ones make their own dull hells, fire and brimstone and all that crap. They need no help from me. But Lilith—she’s special. Not that I have to tell you that.

“We all carry pieces of our journeys within us,” Roland said. “We all learn from our mistakes. Who’s to say we don’t deserve happiness?”

“A fallen angel,” Cam corrected her. “And I’m yours.”

The boy had stopped coughing by then.
He was petting a little white dog who’d trotted
out from the house. “Are you Lilith’s
boyfriend?”
Cam grinned. “I like this kid.”
“Shut up,” Lilith said.
“Well, is he?” Bruce asked Lilith. “Because
if he’s your boyfriend, he’s going to
have to win me over, too. Like with arcade
games and ice cream and, like, teaching me
to throw a baseball.”
“Why stop there?” Cam asked. “I’ll teach
you to throw a football, a punch, a poker
match, and even”—he glanced at Lilith—“the
coolest girl off her game.”

For every time Luce met Daniel—and she always met Daniel—nothing mattered as much as their love.

His hands grasped her waist and lifted her until she could have sworn that his feet had come off the ground, too; that they were floating up above the creek, above the trees, above the burning hillside, into the dense tangle of stars, about to kiss the moon.

She was luminous. Her red hair had been braided a dozen ways, all swirled together in a high shaggy twist. Her eyelids were shimmering green, her lips crimson and matte. She wore black vintage ankle-high motorcycle boots. She was lethal.

Then she was at the bottom, in the filtered light, alone. Black water filled her nose and mouth, her stomach, her lungs.
Her soul.

Lilith blinked, making out what looked like a dark cave at sunset, the sky fiery with streaks of red and orange.

…ha megtalálod azt a lelket, akit mindenkinél nagyobb becsben tartasz, többé nem engeded el.