Once the adrenaline wears off, my hand is aching like a bitch, yet I’m too pissed, and maybe a little embarrassed, to go out to the kitchen for ice. So when Phenex shows up with a tray of food and an ice pack, I nearly break out into tears.
“Now, now,” he coos, setting the tray on the bedside table. “I couldn’t let you starve back here. Besides, that was one mean right hook. You need your strength.”
He smiles, filling me with a warmth that I hadn’t felt in so long. Outside of L, I had missed him the most.
“Thank you,” I murmur before sucking in my bottom lip to keep from crying.
“You must be exhausted. Here. Let’s get you fed so you can get some rest.”
He whips off the metal dome to reveal a piping hot plate of roast beef with vegetables and mashed potatoes with extra gravy. It smells divine, and my stomach roars in agreement.
“I think Jinn missed you most of all. And although it’s excessive,” he adds, uncovering a smaller dish, “I thought you deserved this.”
It’s mac and cheese. The good shit too. If I weren’t starving, I’d totally be a blubbering mess.
“I feel weird eating in front of you,” I say, my words muffled by a huge spoonful of ridiculously cheesy pasta. “Share with me.”
Phenex lifts a palm. “All for you. I’m good.”
I dig in with exuberance, realizing how hungry I actually am. It’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten…or maybe not. If time passes differently here than it does in Hell, my body must be all screwed up. And I’ve honestly never heard of a living, breathing human going to Hell and making it back alive.
“Do you need to talk about it… about what happened?” Phenex asks tentatively. I understand now. This isn’t just a social call. He’s wearing his doctor hat.
I shake my head, but set my silverware down and say, “There were things that…happened. Things that made me physically sick. Yet, I did nothing to stop them. I couldn’t. And sometimes…sometimes…”
Phenex rests a warm hand on top of mine. “It’s ok. Whatever you say stays between us.”
I take a deep, resigning breath, exhaling a week’s worth of shame. “Sometimes I don’t think I wanted to stop it. The people he punished…some of them deserved it. I know that makes me a monster,” I bluster, “and I know I’m no better than he is but—”
“That doesn’t make you a monster, Eden,” Phenex interjects vehemently, squeezing my good hand. “It makes you human. And the thing that makes you absolutely nothing like Lucifer is the fact that you feel remorse, where he feels nothing.”
“Is that true? That he feels nothing?”
“I can’t believe that someone who has done the things he’s done without an ounce of regret has the capacity to feel any emotion that is not self-serving.”
Maybe he’s right—he’d know Lucifer better than I would, that’s for damn sure. But it kinda stings that everything Lucifer told me is most likely a lie. Saying he cared about me, telling me he wanted me to be empowered, looking at me like I was the only one in the room that existed in those eyes shaded in nightfall…it could have all been a ruse. I mean, of course it was. He’s one of the most powerful creatures in existence, and I’m just a girl from the South Side. I’d be a fool to think he could see anything more than that.
Kinda like with Legion.
So yeah, I totally believe that they both have their own agendas when it comes to me. I just have to trust that one’s intentions are more honorable than the other’s.
I flex my fingers, grimacing through the soreness in my knuckles. Phenex immediately grabs the icepack and gingerly places it on the back of my hand.
“You know…,” I begin, feigning interest in my white, linen napkin. “There is one thing I wanted to ask you.”
“Ask me anything.”
“And this stays between us?”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” he smiles, motioning between us. “You have my word.”
I take a giant gulp of ice water before continuing, wishing it was vodka. “I just wanted to know how it works—I mean—how does conception happen?”
Phenex lifts a dark brow. “Well, Eden, when two consensual adults decide to come together and express themselves—”
“No, no!” I shake my head, struggling not to laugh. Phenex trying to explain the birds and the bees to me? Oh God, that ship has long sailed. “I meant, how does conception work between a human and…a not human? Like something from another world.”
“Something like…a demon?”
“Yes,” I answer, feeling my face warm. Just put me out of my misery, for fuck’s sake! “Or…other.”
“Hmmm,” Phenex muses. At least he has the decency not to give me judgey eyes. “Halflings—both of demon and angel parentage—are very rare, and very coveted. It would happen much like human conception, yet the mother would have to be very strong to carry to term. It’s not uncommon for the mother to die in childbirth.”
I swallow. “And the length of said pregnancy…would it be nine months? Or shorter? Longer?”
“About five months, shorter for the most powerful. The human body cannot withstand that level of strain. The baby would literally drain the mother of all her strength.”
Another gulp. “And how would one detect a pregnancy? Would an EPT suffice? Or some supernatural pee stick?”
His voice is level and calm, but he has to be freaking out inside. “A blood test would be best, though I suspect the mother would be showing about two weeks to a month along.”
Two weeks? How long has it been since the Watcher’s party? Shit, I don’t even know what day it is.
Finally, Phenex takes the cold compress from my knuckles and takes both my hands in his, looking me square in the eye. “What’s this all about, Eden? Do you suspect that you’re pregnant?”
Oh shit, I knew this was a bad idea. But I had no one else to ask. Still, he can’t know about what went down in that bathroom with Lucifer. I’m not sure if he was there or it was just an illusion, but it sure as hell felt real.
Suddenly, the food I had just so happily scarfed down feels like lead in my gut, and a wave of nausea comes over me. I swallow down the saliva collecting in my mouth and press my lips together to keep myself from hurling.
“Are you alright?” Phenex questions, taking in my alarmed expression. I don’t doubt that I’m looking a little green as well.
“Yeah, just tired,” I lie. “You mind if we stick a pin in this for another time? I’d really like to get a hot shower and turn in.”
“Of course. My apologies for holding you.” He quickly collects the dishes after giving my hand a once-over, noting a bit of bruising. “This’ll heal rather quickly. In the meantime, if there is anything I can do to accommodate your other medical needs, my door is always open.” And with that, he kisses me on the forehead and bids me goodnight. Or good day. I’m not sure what time it is, and the overcast, dark clouds outside the iron-barred windows are no help.
Luckily, the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach passes after a few swallows of water, and I can bypass the porcelain throne and head straight to the shower. After almost a week of being pampered by Saskia, bathing myself seems a bit like a novelty. I’ll be forever grateful for her quiet kindness. And a big part of me wonders what will happen to her down there. Will she be blamed for my escape? Will Lucifer further punish her for not watching me? Or will she turn over every ounce of information about me to spare her own life?
I suck in a breath, tasting frustrated tears in the water spraying from above my head. Now that the shock is wearing off, I feel like I’m being buried, brick by brick, under the weight of my tragic reality. I was in Hell. Hell. I was wined and dined by the Devil himself while live snuff played out over luscious desserts. I reprised the role of mindless whore, prancing around in garish clothing and clown makeup, in order to keep him agreeable. And at the end of it all, I felt something. Not hate like I had at the beginning. Not fear either. I felt something in that ballroom as he twirled and dipped me to our very own symphony. I don’t know what it was, but I have to forget it. I have to pretend like it never happened if I want any chance—any chance at all—to repair things with Legion.
If that’s even what he wants.
If that’s even what I want.
What’s happened to me?
Where did I go? Why do I feel like a stranger in my own skin?
I can’t think here. And if I stand any chance at reviving that girl—that version of myself that died in that cold, damp concrete room—maybe…maybe I can’t be here.
I stay in the shower until the water runs cold. Or maybe I just think it does. And when I wipe my palm across the fogged glass of the mirror, the girl that stares back is completely unrecognizable to me. Gaunt brown eyes, pale skin, drawn shoulders. I’ve been defeated. I let myself become a victim, and now look what’s happened. And I only have myself to blame.
I know what I have to do. Even if it will feel like breaking every bone in my body to do it.