Rain hissed against the city's rooftops as Lucen descended through the mist. Neon lights bled through the darkness, and below, he could sense the human whose despair had summoned him. The name pulsed through his chest again, softer now.
Mona.
She was close
He landed silently on a rooftop, his wings dissolving into air. Across the street, a bar sign flickered. Inside, the girl sat alone, head on the counter, mumbling into her drink. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her lipstick smudged, but her face—something about it felt familiar. He could not name it, but it unsettled him. And he almost didn't like it.
Lucen smiled faintly. "So this is the mortal who called a devil by name."
He stepped inside the bar. He wanted to observe her closer before doing anything. He was fortunately unseen by the few drunk souls still conscious. The stench of cheap alcohol burned his senses, yet he found himself amused by the mortal that was of interest to him. Mona lifted her head, squinting at him like she was seeing through air.
"Hey," she muttered. "You're too shiny for this place."
Lucen tilted his head. "Am I?"
She giggled, slurring. "You're… pretty. Are you here to kill me or kiss me?"
He chuckled, sitting opposite her. "Depends on which one you want."
"Death. Definitely death," she said, raising her glass in mock toast. "Do it fast, okay?"
Lucen's smirk deepened. "Eager, aren't we?"
He studied her with interest. Most humans begged for mercy at the first whiff of darkness. But this one - she was laughing at the death's door.
From the shadows, a soft voice spoke. "She's perfect, Lucen."
Lucen didn't need to turn. He knew that voice. Though he was slightly surprised that she had followed him to this place. "Dinah."
"Are you drunk?" Mona almost shouted at him. "I'm not Dinah." Then she demanded like an angry jealous wife, "who the hell is Dinah?"
Dinah emerged beside him, obviously unseen by Mona, still wearing faint traces of her new humanity - warm skin, eyes that reflected light instead of devouring it. "You've found your final soul," she said. "Take her, and you'll be free."
Lucen's eyes lingered on Mona. "She's drunk."
"All the better," Dinah said. "End her misery before she wakes up and regret calling you."
Lucen smirked. "You make it sound romantic."
Dinah frowned, arms crossed. "It isn't."
He ignored her. Something in him rebelled against the idea of killing this girl. The way she blinked, the faint curve of her smile - it stirred a shadow of memory he couldn't explain.
Mona raised her glass again. "You're still here Mr. Dinah guy? Thought death would be quicker."
Lucen chuckled. "I take my time."
Dinah didn't like the way Lucen was acting. "Lucen, what are you waiting for?"
He met her eyes briefly, then looked back at Mona. "A reason."
Dinah sighed, exasperated. "You're hesitating. You never hesitate."
Lucen leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair from Mona's face. "Maybe I've found something worth hesitating for."
Dinah stiffened. "Don't be a fool."
Lucen smiled lazily, eyes on Mona. "Always am."
He stood up and was by Mona's side in a blink of an eye. "Come with me."
Mona blinked. "Where?"
"Home," he said simply. "You wanted death. Let's make it… comfortable."
She hesitated, then shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't make it messy."
Mona was in Lucen's arms before she could utter another word. He glanced at Dinah. "I'll finish this my way."
Dinah's lips parted to argue, but the portal flared beneath his feet before she could speak. Shadows folded around them, and in a blink, Mona and Lucen vanished into the night.
The bar fell silent.
Dinah stood alone in the fading light of the runes, her jaw clenched.
"He's going to regret that," she whispered.
As they emerged into the quiet of Lucen's castle-like mansion, Mona stumbled slightly, steadying herself on his arm. Her eyes lifted to meet his, half-drunk, half-curious.
"Are you an angel?" she asked softly.
Lucen smirked. "Close enough."
Her brow furrowed. "You look like the one from my nightmares."
He tilted his head. "Oh?"
"The beautiful angel that keeps trying to kill me," she murmured softly, almost amorously.
For the first time in centuries, Lucen froze.
The pulse on his chest flickered once - sharp, uncertain.
Mona added softly, innocently, unaware of the storm that she was about to stir. "He calls himself Lucen."
Lucen felt his heart stop. He almost let her go.
Mona smiled weakly. "Funny, right?"
Lucen's voice was a trembling whisper. "Not at all."