Page 175 of Devil Inside

It’s her. Truly her.

Lilith.

The brightness blanches out everything in proximity to herself. The surrounding atmosphere heats up, all the gas and dust in the air burning, creating this blinding corona of light. Luminous echoes warp and distort the air around her the higher she rises.

Lilith is in the air, utterly unencumbered by human constraints. She is free of all flesh, released from her host’s body. She is laid bare before me.

Light bends. Magnetic fields twist into themselves. Tendrils radiate out from her translucent hemisphere. Each branch weaves about the air, like bands of electricity.

“You’re beautiful,” I say.

She is a sun. A black hole.

I’m staring at a star elevating itself, rising into the sky. A solar body here before me.

She is a radiant demon.

A blinding angel.

“Take me,” I say, breathless. “Let me be your body.”

“Jordan...”

“I want to be your home. Your everything. I want to hold onto you and never let go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Take me.”

“Let me in.”

We kiss. It’s like drinking in the sun. The fire of it, a flooding supernova, forcing its way past my lips, down my throat, into my lungs, my stomach, and radiating outward.

I’m burning.We’reburning.

I am a lighthouse. But now we hold the sun. Our light is Lilith.

See how we burn.

We take in our hands. Marvel at them. See how they glow. The bones beneath our skin look like filaments, seething red. There’s a power in our grip. A majesty we never had.

What can we do with these hands?

Our hands?

Cara stirs. We hardly notice. Not when our own hands draw so much of our attention. Look at the blood seething through each vein, red ribbons on a gift of skin.

Our skin. Our blood.

Our love.

“Where’d you go,” Cara mumbles just next to us. Her words are slurred, all groggy, as if she were climbing out from a coma. She must feel our absence, the retraction of her imaginary friend, her closest confidant, her strength, the sudden chill it leaves behind.

The emptiness.

“What... what’s happening?” We hear the panic filling up her voice in our absence. A certain clarity comes to Cara’s eyes. She is outside our grace. Our light. Nothing but fog.

“You should leave,” we say, together.