After searching every dark corner of the house, we arrive back at The Saint just as the sun begins to peek through heavy, grey clouds. We’ve barely even cleared the doorway of the Lucifer Suite before Dorian’s wrath breaks through his cool exterior.
“Tell me again,” he fumes, coming so close to me that I can feel the iciness of his breath. Even the temperature of the room drops several degrees.
I go over it all again, just as I did back at the mansion. I know he’s angry; he has every right to be. But also, I know he’s terrified. Gabriella is his wife, his queen. And I was the last person to have seen her. So I tell him how we came to a dark, empty house and how every room appeared to have been abandoned for months. I tell him how we both felt a presence that we couldn’t explain that led us to the stairs, and how badly we had hoped it was them. And I tell him how we came to that fated room and how the door vanished right before our eyes, leaving behind the demon symbols that had been haunting me for days.
“She…she couldn’t breathe,” I stammer. “We did everything. Everything! Whatever was in that room nullified her magic, and there was no way out.”
“It was the same for us,” Niko says, coming over to place a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I think this was a trap for her. That’s why her magic was useless, but they didn’t even consider Eden’s.”
“Because they didn’t know,” Lucifer pipes up. “Eden can wield holy light, something that no other Nephilim can do. They wouldn’t have known she was able to conjure it.”
Niko draws his brother closer, pulling him away from me. “We’ll get her back, D. I promise. Gabriella is strong. They won’t be able to hold her for long.”
Dorian nods, but his jaw is still tight with contempt. He finally releases me from his glare and turns around. “We’ll send out all our forces. I want every last warlock searching for her. Call Cyrus. He needs to have the vampires on this.”
“I will. In the meantime, I need you to let me handle this. Your son needs you. You’re too emotional right now, and we can’t risk mistakes.”
“The mistake was letting you convince me that they could be trusted!” Dorian roars, waving a frantic hand towards Lucifer and me. I don’t say a word.
“This wasn’t Eden’s fault,” Lucifer pipes up, surprisingly coming to my defense. “This was the work of Dark magic. So if you want to blame someone, blame your father.”
“And where was my father supposed to be, huh?” Dorian challenges, clenching his fists at his sides. “Why isn’t he in Hell where we put him?”
Lucifer answers with a tight-lipped sneer and I’m grateful. While I appreciate him sticking up for me, I won’t allow him to fight for me. Not when this is solely on my shoulders. I should have spoken up. I should have tried to stop her, yet I didn’t. With all she has to lose, I allowed her to overpower me and run into that room, knowing that something sinister was on the other side. And I can’t forgive myself for that. I can only try to make it right.
“She’s pregnant.”
The room falls eerily silent for a long beat before Dorian turns back to face me, his glare a glowing, blue inferno.
“What did you say?”
“Gabriella…she’s pregnant. She was going to tell you after. But now…” I swallow down the sob caught in my throat. “I should have tried to talk her out of going, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry. I wanted to respect her wishes.”
Dorian flashes to the space right in front of me so quickly that I don’t even have a chance to take a defensive step away. However, Lucifer sees the threat and materializes right in front of me and pushes him back, sending him sailing across the room to land against the stripper pole with enough force to bend it. Within a blur of a blink, he’s back on his feet and advancing. Niko catches him by the shoulders and pulls him back.
“I welcomed you into my home! I trusted you around my family! And you let my wife go into that house, knowing full well she was carrying our child?”
“This isn’t her fault, D!” Niko grits, using all his might to keep his brother from tearing my head clear off. “You know Gabriella wouldn’t have let anyone stop her. She made her choice. Eden had nothing to do with this. This isn’t her fault!”
“You’re fucking right about that. It’s his fault!” Dorian shouts, turning his ire on Lucifer. “You did this. You chose them as your Horsemen and now my wife and baby are gone.”
He shrugs out of Niko’s grasp yet doesn’t advance. “I swear on my throne, if anything happens to them, I will unleash all my Dark power onto your realm. There will be war.”
He turns and stalks towards the door, nearly ripping it off the hinges upon his exit. Niko turns to me with apology shining in his eyes.
“He’s just scared. It’s a miracle for Gabriella to even conceive. He doesn’t mean it.”
I can only muster a nod in my state of shock and shame before he follows his brother out of the suite.
“He’s right,” Lucifer quietly states. “It isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I should have known Aurora was setting a trap for us. She knew I would never trust her over Nikolai.”
I look at him through tear-blurred eyes, but I can’t say a word for fear that I’ll succumb to the barrage of emotion currently threatening to drown me. So I just turn and walk into my room, unable to face what I’ve allowed to happen. Unable to face him, knowing that it was the memory of him that even gave me the power to break free from the Dark enchantment.
I turn away from Lucifer, because that’s what I should do, not what I want to do.
I don’t know how long he stood outside my bedroom door, contemplating all the reasons why he should leave me to my own misery. But when he twists that knob and lets himself in, it takes everything in me not to collapse onto the floor.
I look up at him, my eyes rimmed with tears, and I say nothing. Because I know with him, I don’t have to. He knows what I need and he doesn’t require my consent.
Lucifer unzips my jacket and slips it from my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. The weapons it conceals clatter, but he doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. Right now, I’m not either. I can only focus on his fingers deftly unfastening the buttons on my pants and sliding them down my legs.
“Luc…” I try to choke out, but even the syllables cut my throat to shreds.
“Shhhh…just let me,” he whispers. “Just let me take care of you.”
And I let him. I let him pull my shirt over my head. I let him lay me down on the bed, and gently place my head on the pillow. And I let him lie beside me and draw my body into his.
Because in this moment, carved out of a broken universe where he isn’t who he is and I’m not who I am, this is all. This is everything. His body is king and the warmth of his embrace reigns supreme. And even as my conscience wages war on my emotions, the feel of his chest underneath my tear-slickened cheek is commander in chief and I am a mere subordinate to his touch.
I remember this like I remember my own name.
I remember him.
And while that should scare me, should terrify down to the marrow of my bones, it’s the only thing keeping me rooted to this bed, this room, this world. He is my anchor in this violent storm that’s twisted and pulled me in every way possible. His eyes, as boundless as star-flecked galaxies, remind me that there is beauty in darkness. And for now, that’s enough. It’s all I have left to hold onto.
He holds me tight and we lie in silence. There is no awkwardness or fear. No expectation of something more, when I have no more to give. My soul is on E, and somehow, his very presence sustains me. Not entirely, but just enough to keep me from letting shame steal me away.
I don’t want to fall asleep in fear of dreaming, yet somehow I do. Maybe it’s exhaustion, maybe it’s his body that chases obscurity away, but I don’t dream. And when I stir awake and the afternoon sun is streaming through my window, casting golden light over our frames, he’s still here, still holding me. Watching me as if I’ll disintegrate into sand and slip right through his fingers.
If this were another time and another place, I’d be embarrassed at my state of undress. I should be embarrassed. But instead, I’m grateful that he’s here. And that, too, should fill me with shame.
“You snore,” he whispers, flashing a soft, playful grin.
“I do not,” I retort before turning away. We’re down to less than a handful of days, and now we don’t only have Legion to find, we have Gabriella. I can’t afford to hide in bed with him any longer, even if that’s all I want to do.
“You also talk in your sleep.”
I peer over at him with narrowed eyes as I pick up my shirt. “I did?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I can feel the blood in my cheeks heating, which is absolutely ridiculous. “What did I say?”
“Mostly unintelligible babble. But you also kept saying, I remember. Tell me, dear Eden. What is it that you remember?”
My one shoulder shrug is a bold-faced lie. “Beats me.”
“You sure about that?” His voice is spiked with skepticism.
“How should I know? I was asleep, remember?” I make my way towards the bathroom. “I’m about to get in the shower.”
Lucifer impishly wiggles his brows and scoots to the edge of the bed. “I’ll grab my loofah.”
“Nuh-uh,” I shake my head. “No way in hell. Not even if you owned the last bar of soap on Earth.”
“But…I’m dirty,” he replies, jutting out his lower lip.
And for the first time in a long time, I smile, and it isn’t tinged with pain or annoyance. I’m not doing it to mask my fear. I do it because somehow, in his own perverted way, Lucifer is being kind. And when kindness is a novelty, you take it where you can find it.
Even if it comes from the damn Devil.
I jump into the shower, and when I emerge, Lucifer is not only gone, but my discarded clothing has been picked up and the bed is made. I know he feels bad about the Horsemen thing, and losing Gabriella has to be messing with him just as much as it’s messing with me. But still, his behavior is so out of character that it worries me. Could he be compensating for another misstep? I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised.
He’s sitting it the common area, freshly groomed and dressed, when I step out of my room, the same book from before in his hands. I’d imagine he’s exceptionally well read and cultured, but it’s still a little shocking to imagine him as this refined, cultivated gentleman who gets his rocks off from rape and mutilation.
“What are you reading?” I ask by way of greeting.
He closes the volume and places it in his lap. “Some dusty old book I nabbed from Irin’s collection.”
I take the seat across from him and start to organize and reload the weapons I’ve brought out with me. “Any good?”
“Riveting,” he answers, seducing each syllable with his tongue. “So, what are our plans for today?”
“I want to get out and search for anything that may point us in Stavros’s direction. He had to have been behind Gabriella’s disappearance. And if Stavros is working with the lesser demons, he’ll know where to find Legion. We have four days. Do you think we can ask the witches again?”
Lucifer shrugs a shoulder. “Worth a shot.”
I nod. “Good. Let’s start pounding the pavement. I want to check that house again too.”
The humidity is remarkably cloying, and if it weren’t for my modified jacket concealing my weapons, I’d lose it. I know it’s the South and all, but it’s winter. The cold months in Chicago are bitter and unforgivable. The air literally stings your skin. So it’s odd to be sweating as we make our way through the gates of the cemetery.
Lucifer stops dead in his tracks just before we reach Marie Laveau’s tomb and raises a palm in front of me to halt my advance.
“Something’s wrong.”
“What?”
“The witches…they’re denying us passage. They don’t want us here.”
“And…how do you know that?”
His eyes skirt around the empty cemetery. Days ago, this place was packed. Now, not a living soul exists within this place, not even the tour guides.
“Because they’re telling me. They’re…shouting.”
I don’t hear a damn thing, and it seems kinda silly that Lucifer seems so spooked over a bunch of dead witches. There’s too much at stake to play nice now.
I step forward, but Lucifer blocks my path. “No. They won’t help us. And if we don’t respect their wishes, there will be consequences.”
I roll my eyes. “Wait. Aren’t you Satan? Don’t they serve you?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not me they’re threatening.”
I blink, reeling back a step. “Me? They have an issue with me?”
“They know what you are. And what you’re destined to be. They won’t help us.”
I turn on my heels and storm out of the cemetery, flustered and furious. We have nothing. Absolutely nothing to go on. And our only means of communicating with the supernatural world has just shut the door in our faces—because of me. At this rate, we’ll never find Gabriella, and we can forget about stopping Legion unless he provides me with a map during my next dream. This is complete bullshit, and I’m fighting back angry tears when we make our way back towards the main street.
“Slow down, Eden,” Lucifer calls a few steps behind me.
I ignore him and keep trudging forward, each step away from the cemetery sounding like another nail in humanity’s collective coffin.
“We still have a few more resources. Trust me on this.”
I shake my head, not believing him. We’ve done everything we were supposed to. We came here under the illusion that there was something to be found. We sat through Michael’s self-righteous spiel. We played Aurora’s game. And what do we have to show for it? Other than whoring myself out for information that turned into a trap and screwing over the Dark?
I’m so wrapped up in my own inner torment that I miss a step and nearly trip into oncoming traffic. Somehow, Lucifer catches me before I become roadkill and steadies me on my feet.
“Whoa. When was the last time you ate?”
I do a quick mental scan of the last couple days and shrug. “I don’t know. Day before yesterday maybe?”
“Eden, you’re pale and your skin is clammy. You’re not thinking straight. You need food.”
I shrug out of his grasp. “I don’t have time to eat.”
“Yes, you do. And you won’t be any good to anyone, especially the Dark queen, if you don’t take care of yourself. Let’s get you fed, and then we’ll head deeper into the French Quarter. I have some deals I may be able to collect on. Even though the dead witches won’t help me, the live ones may have no choice.”
I chew my lip as I weigh his proposal, although I know he’s right. I feel weak. And the oversight of my self-care may have had something to do with how Stavros got the drop on us. I won’t let that happen again.
“Fine. Twenty minutes and then we need to get back to work.”
We stop at the first open restaurant we come to, which is a feat since most of them appear to be closed. I frown and look to Lucifer, who also seems perplexed.
“Is it a holiday or something?”
He shakes his head. “And even if it were, these places would still be packed.”
We step into the small establishment and are instantly greeted by a friendly face pinched with worry.
“Good afternoon, I’m Luetta,” she drawls, leading us to a table. “I’ll be the only server today since I had to send my wait staff home. I hope you’ll be patient with us.”
I look around the restaurant. Where is everyone?
“We’re kinda in a hurry,” I say, ignoring the way Lucifer cuts his eyes at me. “What can we get that’s fairly fast and easy?”
Luetta sets a couple menus on the table, then explains, “Well, many of our items aren’t available right now. But we just made a big pot of our famous jambalaya.”
I nod. “I’ll have that. And water, please.”
“Same,” Lucifer, chimes in. “Is there something going on? Most of the restaurants are closed.”
Luetta sighs, her expression forlorn. “A stroke of bad luck, unfortunately, as if we haven’t had enough of that. There’s a big recall on all produce due to that big flu virus. They’re saying it could be infecting people’s food and getting them sick. So we had to throw everything out—fruits, vegetables, even meat since the animals are getting contaminated and dying. And whatever isn’t tainted is being rationed due to this new war we’re in. And if that wasn’t enough, there was a massive oil spill in the gulf, so all our seafood and fish are dying. Everything else is being bought up at crazy prices by the folks who can afford it. Basically, we’re all running out of food. I fear our doors will be closed by nightfall.”
She swipes under her eyes, clearly emotional. “I’m sorry, y’all. Let me go get that jambalaya for you.”
Lucifer’s eyes lock with mine. And even though my skin is crawling and I feel nauseous with panic, I need to hear him say it. I need to hear the words that I know are singeing his tongue, demanding to be uttered. Reminding us that we can run, we can hide, but destiny is an imperious bitch, and she will not be ignored.
“Famine,” he whispers. “The Black Rider is here. Saskia has been released.”