Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
MERRI
Fucking Chaos.
Fucking horsemen.
They knew me better than I wanted to admit, and Chaos was determined to win me back.
I might’ve shut him down the last time, but he was right about so many things.
Malice, too. I had to be strong enough to keep Lucifer at bay, so I had to feed, but I wasn’t ready to fully let them back into my body or heart yet.
Unfortunately for all of us, the best way for me to feed would be to do just that.
It was so much more satisfying when my partner finished inside me.
Not only did I stay full longer, the power it gave me was exponentially greater.
But doing that opened doors to other things. Namely feelings. I didn’t want to end up with my heart even more broken by the time these four were done with me. They’d already hurt me deeply. Could I withstand anything else?
Then there was the not-so-small issue of the devil I knew.
As in the literal devil, currently holding me captive.
Was I really willing to stick to my guns and risk Lucifer forcing himself on me?
My gut said he wouldn’t take anything that wasn’t offered, but my gut also told me the horsemen were my mates, and we saw how that turned out.
As confident as I was that Lucifer wouldn’t force the issue, and that my current lack of bun in the oven was a point in my favor, I also wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Would it actually be safer for me to continue with the original plan?
The truth was, I just didn’t know anymore.
The one thing I did know? Nothing would change until I figured out where I was.
That was priority number one. Well, technically priority number one was staying alive, but the two sort of went hand-in-hand.
Which was why I was brushing my hair and giving myself a final critical check in the mirror. It was time to face the devil.
I didn’t want this upcoming chat to seem like a complete about-face after avoiding him for the last two days, so I really needed to play my cards right, or he would see straight through me.
That would probably be the case anyway—he was a clever fuck—but I didn’t need to make it easy for him either.
Maybe I could get him to slip up and give me some clue as to where he’d hidden us.
I half expected him to be waiting outside my door, ready to pounce as soon as I stepped into the hall. He wasn’t. The house was quiet, cozy, and just as inviting as it had been when I first arrived. A far cry from the prison it really was.
I padded down the hall, warily checking for any hint as to where he was hiding.
I swear to God, if that asshole jump-scared me, I would punch him in the dick so hard.
It was the soft click-clack of keys that gave him away.
Following the sound, I found him at his desk, spectacles perched on his aquiline nose, fingers typing away.
Before I could stop myself, I snickered, causing him to look up at me.
“So you’ve decided to come out of your room. Miss me, did you?” he said, a smirk tilting up his perfect mouth.
Ignoring his question, I focused on the one thing I could pick at. “Glasses, huh? I wouldn’t have guessed you’d need them.”
“One should always dress for the role they desire.”
“Uh huh. And what role are you dressed for? Asshole of the Year?”
He chuckled, removing the glasses and setting them on the desk beside his typewriter. “Award-winning author, obviously.”
“Why bother carrying on the facade?”
“What facade? I decided it was high time to write my memoir. Can you think of a more widely anticipated book?”
“Who’s going to be left to read it? If you get your way, everyone will be dead.”
Lucifer smiled at me, far too amused for someone I was trying to offend.
“What?” I snapped.
“Can’t a man appreciate a woman?”
“A man, sure. Not you.”
“Well, truthfully, I’m so much more than a man.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ugh. That’s something only a man would say. Next you’ll tell me you’re God’s gift made special for me.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “It would be true if you flipped it on its head. You’re made for me, my sour little crabapple.”
I’d been called a lot of things in my camming days, but that was a new one.
“Crabapple?”
“I am rather fond of apples, as you know, and you’re just so delightfully prickly.” His expression turned contemplative. “I suppose you can be my prickly pear if you prefer.”
“No. I don’t want to be your anything.”
He gave me an almost comically exaggerated frown. “Well, it’s a bit late for that. You may not have signed up for it, but you were born to be my everything.”
“Stop trying to sway me with your silver tongue. Words are just that—empty promises when they’re not backed up by actions.”
His eyes widened, and he held his hands out as though to say, but look at all of this. “Haven’t I shown you what I can do for you?”
“You mean lie, steal, and murder to get your way?”
“Don’t forget the cookies.”
Out of everything he could say, that took the wind from my righteously indignant sails. “Cookies laced with lies.”
“They were not,” he shot back, genuinely affronted. “They were made with love.”
I laughed. “You wouldn’t know love if it bit off your dick.”
“Why would love do that? Seems a bit counterproductive. I think if you gave it a chance, that would be the last thing you’d want to do to it.”
“Try me,” I practically growled.
For a man who just got threatened with castration, he looked far too pleased with himself.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You’re bantering with me.”
“Threatening you, you mean.”
“What’s a little foreplay amongst star-crossed lovers?”
“Star-crossed lovers usually die in the end.”
He shrugged. “I see it as progress. We’re just another step closer to being where destiny wants.”
“You’re deluded.”
“Thank you.”
My God, he was infuriating. “That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It sounded like one. You’re so cute when you flirt with me, crabapple.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“But it suits you so well. I rather like it.”
I think I growled at him, but I couldn’t be sure.
He stood from his seat to lean against the desk. “If you’d like, we can workshop your pet name for me. How about love of your life?”
I sneered at him.
“No? What about king of your heart?”
“More like pain in the ass.”
“Mmm. I do love a pita, such a tasty treat. Especially with a little hummus. So yummy.”
Frustration bubbled up in my chest. It was like talking to a handsome brick wall. “Oh my God, I think you’re torturing me.”
“Like I said, foreplay. There’s a fine line between torture and edging. Think of how good it will be when you finally come to your senses and stop denying the chemistry between us.”
Another harsh crack of laughter escaped me. “What fucking chemistry? This is disdain.”
He waved a hand. “A rose by any other name . . .”
The Shakespeare reference made me think of Sin, and my heart gave a little pang.
“Speaking of cookies,” I asked, trying to steer this conversation back to my original point, “Is there any fresh food here?”
Lucifer stood and made a show of stretching. “My lady love requires sustenance? The memoir of a fallen angel can wait. Come with me.”
Okay, I could work with this. He was egotistical enough to want to be my sole provider. Following in his wake, we made our way into the kitchen. He was humming happily, as though I didn’t hate him and wasn’t his unwilling hostage.
“Alrighty, what does my tart little crabapple desire?” he asked as he opened the barren fridge. “Fresh fruit? A bit of veg? Perhaps pizza, or maybe fried chicken?”
As he spoke, ripe strawberries, pineapple, and blueberries appeared in a bowl in the refrigerator. Then a pizza box and a bucket of KFC showed up on the counter, the scents of melty cheese and pepperoni in addition to fried chicken filling the kitchen.
“I am rather fond of In-N-Out, if you wanted to go the burger route.”
The mention of burgers had an image of Malice blazing to life in my mind. I had to squash the wave of sadness before Lucifer saw it on my face. He would too. The man was far too talented at reading me.
“So . . . the cookies. You didn’t bake them?”
“Oh, I baked them for you, darling. But I manifested the ingredients.”
“Wow,” I said, leaning in to the opportunity to fawn. “That’s amazing. What else can you do?”
He turned to face me fully. “What do you mean, love? I can do so many things. You might need to narrow down the question for me.”
“Well, for example, I don’t have many clothes here. Just what I arrived in and some of Cole’s old sweats. Could you conjure some of those for me?”
“Of course I can.”
“Does that only work on inanimate objects? Like, could you manifest a puppy?”
“Is my girl in need of a cuddle? All you have to do is ask,” he said with a wink. Before he’d completed the move, a basket of golden retriever puppies appeared between us.
Apparently, I was weak because a basket of puppies had me sinking to my knees and scooping two of them into my arms. They were soft and warm and even smelled like puppies did. One immediately began licking my face, while the other promptly passed out in my arms. I was such a sucker.
“If I’d known that was the way to your heart, I’d have licked you days ago.”
I glared at him behind my puppy shield. “It’s cute when you’re a furry baby. Less so when you’re a slobbering idiot.”
“I don’t slobber, darling. I think you’ll find me quite house-trained. Besides, I didn’t say where I would lick you.”
Fuck me, but I blushed. And all it took was puppies.
This was going to be so much harder than I thought.
Lucifer
Merri’s attempts to suss out my limitations were transparent, but I didn’t want to crush her spirit.
She was finally out of that godforsaken room and willingly engaging with me.
I wanted to prolong the moment as long as I possibly could.
Besides, letting her think she was winning would just bring us closer.