Chapter 5 Galilee
Galilee
Gali stayed in bed for as long as she could the morning after the party. She was being haunted, and she didn’t appreciate
it in the least, especially when the ghost was a memory of a shockingly beautiful man with an impossible name and an impossible
tongue. She’d tossed and turned all night, twisting in her sleep as her body burned with the echo of his touch, the cold licking
streak of his voice, tempered by the rejection of when he’d walked away. Gali wanted him to come back. She wanted to hunt
him down and slap him for leaving like it had been easy. She wanted to claim their unfinished bargain just so she could feel his body pressed to hers again.
When he’d left her in the hallway, Gali had returned to the main gala.
She’d tried to mingle, but she was terribly out of her league, and without Oriak? or Bonbon to ground her, the whole party had felt like she was trapped in an unpleasant dream.
A gorgeous older woman in a light blue dress had passed her a drink in a delicate flute, but Gali was barely present enough to appreciate the gesture.
There was no way she could return down those hallways to find her friends, but standing there sipping champagne and looking pretty was equally impossible when minutes ago there had been smoke curling off the floor and her thigh over his shoulder, his mouth working to get her off.
He’d said his name was Lucifer.
Gali had stood in the middle of the gala and tried to convince herself that it was just a name. Not real, because it couldn’t
be. He couldn’t be that, because if he was . . . she’d nearly dropped her glass just thinking about it, and that was when
she’d asked one of the staff for a car to take her home. The uniformed woman had taken one look at Gali and put an arm around
her, guiding her out of the party. Gali had been grateful for the support, since all the blood in her body had felt like it
had pulled away from her extremities, retreating to support her organs, like she was a beat away from passing out. The drive
back to her apartment had been a blur, and she’d stripped out of her clothes and jewels in a numb haze, standing under a hot
shower as she scrubbed off the makeup. She’d tried to scrub off his scent too, but even now it clung to her the next day,
smoke and burning musk. She’d left voice notes for Oriak? and Bonbon, then she’d turned off her phone. All her dreams had
been dark and stitched things: the woods and her feet slipping on smooth stones in a cold creek bed, a mouth on her neck and
a forked tongue flickering against her skin.
He couldn’t be who he said he was, because that would make him the Devil himself and that would mean Gali had done something
she could not undo, something with repercussions she absolutely was not ready to process. He was just the head of security . . .
whose eyes had bled black and who had called up a wall of darkness.
Gali slammed a pillow over her face. She knew who the Devil was because she was a Kincaid and she had been warned.
She knew to hang a mirror by the door. She knew what happened at crossroads and the seduction in an offer, the way it could
give you the world and cost you your soul. She knew about temptation and skies above. Nana Darling had even told her stories
about how beautiful the Devil would be, for he was God’s favorite. No one had warned her he would be so beautiful that she would be the one to tempt him.
Gali growled into the pillow. She’d made a deal with him, for fuck’s sake.
With Lucifer, the Prince of goddamn Darkness.
She had spread her legs for the Devil himself, and not only had she loved it, but worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about how she still wanted him.
The desire crawled under her skin, prickly and hungry.
If she wasn’t damned already, then this beast of want was going to damn her irrevocably.
It stung and paced through her, irritated and angry, and Lucifer had been in her dreams, a shadow melting in and out of the dark.
She had run through the forest, branches tearing at her skin as Kincaid ghosts whispered warnings, but when she’d stumbled and fallen in a clearing full of dead leaves, the man with radiance morphing in his eyes had come upon her and Gali had opened for him again.
She’d welcomed the weight of his body as he covered her with victory gleaming in his teeth.
The ache in her had howled as she reached for him, nearly sobbing in anticipation of him sliding into her .
. . and then she had woken up. Over and over, the dream always stopped, always denied her.
In the end, Gali had woken up and slid her hand between her legs, stroking herself until she came, and it still hadn’t been close to enough.
If she saw him again—when she saw him again—she was going to kill him for doing this to her.
Her phone rang, and she frowned, confused. She’d definitely turned it off before falling asleep. Gali reached out and turned
it over to look at the screen, then sat up sharply in bed, accepting the video call.
“Celestial,” she said, her voice harsh. Her cousin never called and certainly not over video. “What’s wrong?”
Celestial narrowed her eyes, which were always too old for her face. “Why the hell’s your phone off?”
Gali ignored her question. Celestial had pushed the call through anyway, which was . . . a little concerning. Gali hadn’t
known she could do that, but Kincaid women had all kinds of secrets.
“Is Nana Darling okay? Did something happen with the girls?”
Her cousin scoffed and tugged on one of her short, beaded plaits. “Nothing happened with Zélie or Leah, and Nana Darling is
fine. She’s not gonna stay fine, though, which is why I’m calling you.”
Gali’s heart thudded. If Nana Darling was ever hurt, their family would simply . . . shatter. “What’s going on?”
Celestial leaned back in her chair, and her hooded eyes took on a wicked gleam that set off alarm bells in Gali’s head. After
the childhood they’d shared and the number of times Celestial had nearly gotten them killed—literally, not metaphorically—Gali
knew enough to be wary of her cousin when she wore that look. When Celestial was eight, she’d slowly poisoned the entire family
because she wanted them to build up an immunity, and her mother, Peony, had to explain that although it was a reasonable plan,
poisoning family without their consent was not acceptable. People had to explain things like that to Celestial—she was both
chaos and Kincaid loyalty, slamming together in a dangerous mix.
“What have you done?” Gali asked, one hand clenching into a fist.
Celestial’s face dropped into exaggerated hurt and outrage. “Me? I haven’t done nothing, cousin.” Her mouth tugged into a sharp smile. “You, on the other hand, Gali, you’ve been bad.”
Gali flinched. There was no way her cousin could have found out, but then again, this was Celestial. Judging by the widening
grin on her face, Gali conceded that Celestial knew much more than she had any right to. Gali tried to keep her face calm.
“What you talking about?”
Celestial cackled out loud. “You terrible at bluffing, Gali. The wind brought me a rumor last night, you know, all the way
across the land on whispering branches.”
Well, fuck. Gali snorted. “I really wish the wind would stop snitching to you.”
Her cousin shrugged, and the strap of her dress fell off her dark shoulder. “Not like you were gonna call and ask for my help.”
There was a real note of hurt in her voice, and Gali sobered up.
“I hadn’t gotten that far, Celestial,” she said softly. “But I’ve missed you a whole lot. Believe me.”
It was true. Being around Oriak? and Bonbon was wonderful, but it also wasn’t entirely real, not when she couldn’t tell them the truth about what had happened at the party.
They lived in a different world, and they didn’t know where she came from.
Celestial understood, just like Zélie and Leah would, because she was a Kincaid too.
She’d been baptized like the rest of them by barefoot matriarchs in all white, under bulging full moons that made their grandmother’s hair gleam silver while her memories walked around them.
Celestial studied Gali, then nodded once. “Tell me what happened.”
Gali grimaced. “What did the wind tell you?” she asked instead.
Her cousin met her eyes. “You made a deal you oughtn’t. That was the first warning.”
A chill rippled over Gali’s skin. It had been harmless, just a dance. “What else?”
Faint worry flitted over Celestial’s face, and that alarmed Gali more than anything she’d said so far. Celestial never worried.
“A cascade has begun,” her cousin said, her voice hesitant. “A gate screams. A darkness presses against your house.” A sheen
of fear slid over her eyes. “Don’t open the door.”
Gali bit the inside of her cheek. “That you, or you passing it on?”
They had both grown up among the seers in the family, and frankly, Gali hoped this message had come from someone else. Celestial
didn’t prophesy often, but when she did, lifelines changed.
Her cousin shook her head gently. “The wind told me most of it, but I’m the one asking.”
“Why can’t I open the door?” Gali already knew it was the smart move to leave all doors closed, but her cousin didn’t understand
the hunger, the ache, or the scope of the temptation at hand.
Celestial leaned forward, her beads swinging into her narrow face. “Whatchu think’s gonna happen when Nana Darling finds out?”
she asked. “When she realizes she couldn’t keep you safe cos your ass didn’t stay home? You let any darkness in and you think
she’s gonna let you fight it alone?”