Chapter 9 – Lilith
CHAPTER NINE
LILITH
Three days after the party at the club, I spent most of the next day cleaning the bar, preparing for tomorrow.
It’s the only day I close, giving me a chance to clean properly.
As I mop the floor, I pause over the spot where my family burned.
It’s all new flooring, but the layout remains the same.
The vision of them lying here—lifeless—while I couldn’t get to them, while I couldn’t save them, is something that haunts me daily.
It’s the only memory I have of that night, the only solid memory.
Shaking my head, I push those thoughts to the back of my mind and walk over to the jukebox, figuring music can drown out my thoughts while I clean.
Limp Bizkit’s “Nookie” blasts through the speakers, and I pause, a sad smile tugging at my lips.
Dancing with Silas, laughing, having fun, carefree, and completely unaware that vampires have surrounded me.
I can’t help but dance around to the music, using the mop as an air guitar and whipping my head back and forth.
I can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes me.
My life may have gone to shit, but one thing that will always make me feel better is music.
A quiet, almost silent creak from the door snaps me out of it. I whirl around and face the threat, the mop poised and ready to strike. Silas stands there, the corner of his mouth curved slightly. “What, you going to do? Wipe the floor with me?”
I relax and lower the mop. “It always amazes me that you know what humor is,” I quip.
He takes a slow, measured step towards me. “I’m glad I amaze you.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I ask, changing the subject.
“It’s been three days since the party, and no one has seen or heard from you. Evelynn wanted to come check on you, but Lucian won’t let her out of his sight, as we still don’t know what Morbius has planned.” He says his brother’s name like it has a sour taste on his tongue.
“Well, you would know,” I counter.
He groans in frustration and looks up to the ceiling. “For the millionth time, Lilith, I didn’t cover for him. I haven’t spoken to him since that night, and you were there,” he argues. It’s the same argument we’ve been having for the past twenty-seven years.
“You always covered for him. Whenever he didn’t show, you lied for him and protected him.
So why would it be any different?” I point out.
He grits his jaw and looks away. “As I thought. You don’t argue because you know I’m right.
I guessed he was involved in some shady shit, given how many times he disappeared.
But I didn’t know until the battle that he’d joined the fucking Dominion.
” I walk up to him, stopping just in front of him, my index finger jabbing in his chest. “But you knew. All these years, you knew.”
He glares down at me, his onyx eyes void of emotion. “I came to tell you to pack up and come stay at the club. Lucian’s orders,” he says, diverting the conversation.
I laugh. “You can’t be serious?”
“Deadly,” he murmurs.
My grip tightens on the mop. “Tell Lucian thanks for the invite, but I’m not staying in the club.” I turn to walk away, but Silas grabs my arm, firmly yanking me back to him. Something crosses his features as his eyes roam over my face.
“It’s not safe. You’re not safe,” he counters, his voice full of warning and what sounds like concern.
“Morbius won’t hurt me. He’s had years to come back and hurt me and hasn’t. Why would he choose now, all of a sudden?” I press.
His lips purse, a war dancing in his eyes. “For once, will you just take the fucking advice? Take it as Lucian telling you, not me. Fuck knows you love to fight me on everything,” he says with exasperation.
“Well, whose fault is that?” I scoff.
“Yours,” he bites back. I blanch.
“I warned you so many fucking times that Morbius wasn’t to be trusted, that you would get hurt, and look where that got you.” His words hit like poisoned arrows.
“So my family getting slaughtered was all my fault?” I retort, my voice cracking with the emotion that is still raw even all these years later. Because in truth, I did blame myself.
His face softens, and regret and pity flash over him.
“No. I didn’t mean that. Fuck.” He steps back, running his hands through his black hair.
“You won’t go to the club so that someone will stay here with you.
I can’t say what or why, as we still don’t know.
But Viktor believes whatever Morbius has planned next will involve you.
So for Lucian’s peace of mind and mine, will you accept one of those options? ”
“Fine,” I relent. Not happy about the situation, but the tone in his voice, the worry that keeps flashing through his eyes and the dark circles under his eyes. It’s enough for me to feel a slight shudder of terror. “But I’m staying here.”
His eyes land on mine, relief flooding them. “Thank you,” he mutters, before pulling out his cell, presumably to call Lucian.
I go about my business, cleaning, ignoring him. Until his voice rises. “Fuck no,” he growls. I pause and look at him, his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine.” He looks at me, his jaw set tight, and pulls the phone from his ear, pressing it to speaker.
“Lilith,” Lucian orders me like I’m a member of his club. He always has.
“Yeah, hang on, let me turn the music off.” I use my speed to get it down quickly. “What is it?” I ask.
“You want to stay there, that’s fine. But Silas will be staying there with you,” Lucian orders.
My head is shaking back and forth. “Absolutely not,” I argue.
“You don’t get a choice. I’ve got men out doing runs for the club, I’ve got Hex, Viktor, and Talon researching all that they fucking can. I cannot send anyone else,” he states firmly.
My gaze flickers to Silas. Exhaling a frustrated sigh, left with no choice but to relent. “Fine.”
“Fuck, I wasn’t expecting it to be that easy,” he mutters in surprise. “You can come back and forth to the club as and when; only together. Neither of you is to leave or go anywhere alone,” he adds.
“I know you wouldn’t be asking this of me if you didn’t have a reason, even though you won’t tell me,” I state with annoyance.
“Yeah, well, when we are certain of, well, anything,” he sighs, sounding exhausted. “You will be informed.” Lucian doesn’t say anything else; the line goes dead.
Silas slides the cell back into his pocket, his eyes watching me, waiting for me to say something. I shove the mop into his hand. “If you’re going to be staying here, then make yourself useful. We open in two hours,” I order before walking away.