“Demons don’t respond the same way to alcohol as humans do. I imagine angels are the same way,” he’d told me, being all smart and stuff.

Hours later, I’d seen a whole lot of people engaging in various degrees of public intoxication, more skin and body parts than I ever needed to see in my entire life and some really brutal hangovers in the making.

But we didn’t find Lucifer.

Neither did Layla or Roth. Cayman had also sacrificed his “me time” and joined the search, but he, too, was coming up empty-handed. Apparently Lucifer was picky, and I could appreciate the fact that he had standards and all, but I was tired and I was hungry. Like bordering on hangry kind of hungry.

So that was how we ended up on the roof of a nearby building. I sat on the edge, my feet dangling off into nothing as I happily munched away on a cheeseburger and fries. Zayne had gotten a grilled chicken sandwich—ew—of which he immediately disposed of the bun and just ate the chicken breast before we even reached our hidey-hole on the roof.

“Is there a reason you feel the need to eat on the actual edge of a roof?” Zayne asked as he hopped up on the ledge.

I popped a fry into my mouth. “A bird’s-eye view of the city.”

He knelt beside me, wings hidden away. “And what do you see of the city from up here?”

I squinted as I picked up my drink. “Numerous...identifiable blobs.” I took a drink as I looked over at him. Moonlight shone across his face. He’d pulled his hair back in a smooth knot earlier. “But I bet you see everything perfectly.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I’m thinking you wanted to come up here just so I can live on the verge of a heart attack every time you move around.”

I smirked. “Maybe. Want a fry?”

“No.”

“Come on. It’s just a thinly sliced carb stick.”

“No, thank you.”

I offered the fry, anyway, squinting as I aimed for his mouth. “It’s tasty, salty goodness.” I poked the corner of his lip. “It wants to be eaten by you.”

“I doubt that fry is the only thing that wants to be eaten by me.”

My face flushed hot. “What a naughty thing to suggest.”

“Uh-huh.” Zayne caught my wrist, turning his head just the slightest. He took the fry, chewing slowly. “Happy?”

I nodded.

His eyes met mine, a vibrant blue luminous in the moonlight as his tongue flicked over the tips of my fingers, sweeping away the crystals of salt. “Tasty.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, stomach tightening deliciously low.

He kissed the pad of my finger, those burning eyes still holding mine. “I love you, Trinity.”