11/30/2022 0 Comments Blackened denariusLasciel, as she appeared to me now, was a portion of a genuine fallen angel. I would have had to make a serious effort to see that the actual seatbelt hadn’t moved. I knew she couldn’t have picked up the physical seatbelt and done that, so what I was seeing was only an illusion–but it was a convincing one. “Very well.” She twisted around like anyone would, drawing the seat belt forward around her waist and clicked it. “It’s the principle of the thing,” I said. There is no reason for me to wear my seatbelt.” “Don’t be such a baby,” she replied, her tone amused. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snarled at her. She sat with her hands in her lap, staring out the front of the car, smiling very slightly. She could look like anything she chose, but her most common form was that of a tall, athletic blonde wearing a white Greek-style tunic that fell almost to her knee. Lasciel, AKA the Temptress, AKA the Webweaver, apparently some kind of photocopy of the personality of a fallen angel, sat in the passenger seat. My heart in my throat, I got the car moving smoothly again, and turned to glare at the sudden passenger. I turned into and recovered, but if I’d had another coat of paint on my car I’d have collided with the one next to me. The tires squealed in protest and I started to slide. I let out a yelp and nearly bounced my car off of a delivery truck. Between one heartbeat and the next, the passenger seat of the Blue Beetle was suddenly occupied.
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