Sublime

Edouard, I

Evan was around. Especially since Evan tended to use their own words against them down the line. He may not have acted entitled, but he was still, in most minds, a complete shit.

“Stephens,” he says, tone dry once more, “if you’re the villain in someone else’s love story, then I’m the devil.”

“sons of God,” a potential reference to angels, and in this case fallen angels.

“I knew it,” Aunt Thea said. “It’s him.” The strange man nodded. “It’s me.” “It’s who?” Maddie blurted out.

Matthew’s eyes widened as he understood what she intended. “You wouldn’t.”

“Angie is dead—,” said Eli. “Yes, I know—” “…but so are you.” It wasn’t a threat. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Victor. You’re something that’s crawled into his skin. A devil wearing him.” “Ouch,” said Victor, and for some reason, the word made him laugh.

Evan said, knowing he’d just tortured the two women for no reason, but now looking at Gordy. “One of the very good people you have working on this.”

“Who is she?” Ethan asked softly. “No one. An imaginary woman.” Averting his gaze, West used the toe of his boot to flick a loose pebble to the side of the drive. “Who happens to despise me,” he muttered.