Which was a good point. He couldn't get mad at him, surrounded like this. He couldn't shift, he couldn't attack, and that, alongside the firm grip Lucifer has on his shoulder, was a dangerous combination. It stirred his rage and it took an effort to not bare his teeth at the man-- angel? Spirit? Whatever he was or thought he was.

"I already have my gods," Nicolas replied, turning to eye Lucifer warily. He was tense under the hand, but not willing to do more than stand stiffly and glower. "And unlike yours, they're fairly chatty."

Provided one went far enough into the Deep Umbra, sure...