Lucille #2
Etan answered, “The blade must unmake to remake, hence the name. And the ring is to help with our other threat.” Then he waved at Lucifer’s bloody body. “You may want to find a Virtue for—”
A white feather wrapped in a blue flame and tipped with black materialized on King Lucifer’s chest.
Etan clicked his tongue and wrinkled his nose. “It seems the Weaver has allowed him to keep his ability to carve runes. Interesting.”
King Lucifer had been divested of his angelic essence, his bond, and his wings.
As per Etan’s words, Lucifer had been tainted by evil to fit Hell’s design.
Etan proceeded to divest more from him, ordering his compliance and forbidding him from ever seeing Saraqael again.
If he did, Etan threatened to send her to the seventh circle of Hell.
In my conclusion, I believe Etan intended to isolate and demoralize him. His motivations, I suspect, are darker than we initially conceived. I ascertain that Saraqael’s actions are a direct result of this travesty.
How? How did any of this make sense?
The amount of thoughts and questions swirling through my head made me dizzy.
Had Etan taken everything from my father, or was it the dagger? Or both? Cato noted the rune on my father’s neck was intended to control Tsal-mawet and guide intention, but not what Etan’s intention had been.
And how did I figure out what the rune could do and still have no idea how it even remotely pertained to opening the damned gates?
Were we supposed to perform the Unmaking Ceremony in front of them? Was Ronen supposed to become king?
The thought wrapped around my intestines and squeezed. If it hadn’t been Etan who severed my parents’ bond, Ronen and I could lose ours. And my father… what would become of him? Would he die?
Fate couldn’t be that cruel. The mosaics had to be warning me about something else.
A muffled knock pounded on a door.
I straightened.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Cato!” my father’s muffled voice called out. He banged again.
Light from the main area spilled through the narrow gap beneath the door.
Footsteps padded across the wooden floor, then paused before a soft click.
“Sir, how can I be of service to you at this early hour?” Cato inquired.
“I thought I had Tsal-mawet, Cato. My mind hasn’t been with me lately,” my father admitted. “I’m assuming you have it under rune and key?”
This couldn’t be happening. The dagger with the black stone center laughed at me from Cato’s shelf.
Shit.
“Yes. You require it, my king?”
I wouldn’t be stealing it now.
I rushed to put his paper back quietly and scanned the study. Couldn’t he have an enclosed desk or something?
“Yes, I believe it’ll help with our gate issue.”
Part of me wanted to pop out and ask my father how. Until Cato’s flushed, angry face came to mind. Dream-walking into his dreams was one thing, this… breaking into his private rooms and going through his stuff? I’d crossed a line.
“You’ve found a way to save Saraqael’s soul?”
While I listened for my father’s answer, I stared with growing apprehension at the ledge running along the icy wall outside the window.
“Potentially.”
“Your daughter will love to hear that.”
I wasn’t so sure anymore, not after the Doors of Moirai’s images and reading Cato’s words.
My father laughed. The sound crawled through my hair and clawed at my ears.
“We’ll see.”
Hearing enough, I quietly unlatched the window and opened it, thankful for the still, silent morning. I stepped through the opening, keeping my eyes up and away from the ground, and scrambled onto the ledge.
“I’ll go retrieve it for you.”
I hurried to close the window. The muffled click barely whispered through the air. The moment he opened his study door, I shuffled out of sight.
He didn’t hear me. He didn’t see me. Everything will be okay.
I rested the side of my head against the icy wall, exhaling. Then my foot slipped.
My breath ripped from my lungs. I clawed at the ice, plummeting, my nails snapping. My Infernus surged. Ice shot from my hands and fused me to the wall, jolting me to a painful stop.
Heavenly fucking Shit.
I panted, diving into my Infernus’s crackling music and fusing my feet as well.
“Don’t look down, Lucy. Don’t look down.” There were probably just trees, the ground, ordinary scenes I saw every day.
I looked down.
Heavenly Fuck.
“Cato!” I screamed, valuing my life more than the consequences of my spying. “Help me!”
Seconds passed. I yelled again. A minute passed. Two. Four. After minutes of shouting and screaming, my voice was hoarse.
He wasn’t in his rooms anymore. Or he had soundproof windows, which actually sounded pretty damned plausible for a scholarly librarian.
My arms shook. My ankles and wrists hurt. My breaths came in sporadic jumps of air. I didn’t know what to do and couldn’t think beyond my panic at falling over the cliff face.
Breathe. I just need to breathe. I can get out of this.
How, Lucy? You stupid female! Just had to sneak into Cato’s rooms, didn’t you? Even if he did find you, how would he help you? You’re frozen to the damned castle!
My forehead fell against the ice. The frigid coating melted against my skin, and my panting breaths fogged the castle wall. Water slid down my nose, and I pulled back.
How could I be so stupid? I was far from fucking helpless.
I took a deep breath and called to my Glory. It erupted across my entire body, and I plummeted.
Shrieking, I clawed at the wall, my Infernus catching me again.
“This plan would be the death of me.”
Once I calmed myself as much as I could and convinced myself I couldn’t stay here indefinitely—even though Cato’s room was even farther away—I focused my thoughts and pushed the warm energy into one hand.
My Glory burst free the way I intended, melting one point of connection.
Reaching up, I froze it, anchoring myself back to the wall.
Then I did the same with my opposite foot, slowly creeping back up.
My mind strained against my fear as I painstakingly melted and froze my limbs.
“Only a couple more feet to the ledge,” I murmured to myself, pushing my Glory into my next hand.
“Is this a new hobby of yours I need to be concerned about, Hellion?” Ronen asked from behind me.
I yelped, and my Glory flashed. All my anchors burst, and once again I fell.
Ronen caught me.
“I much prefer your feet on the ground,” he stated disapprovingly.
“Me too,” I said, slumping against his chest, overcome by fierce relief.
His arms tightened, pressing me closer.
“Mind explaining yourself?”
I laughed without any real humor. Where the hell did I even begin?
“Cato’s been hiding information from me, and I decided to take matters into my own hands. It backfired.”
Ronen flapped his large black wings, flying around the castle. We passed above a drop-off and puny trees far below us that slowly grew in size.
“What kind of information?”
I peeled my eyes away from the ground and met Ronen’s puzzled frown, thinking about the deal he made with my father.
“The kind that makes me realize Cato isn’t the only one keeping things from me.”
Ronen tensed. His shadows bled from his neck, twisted erratically around his tattoos before he forced them back. They echoed his spike of anxiety. More than that, Ronen opened his mouth, and nothing came out.
He never struggled to speak his mind. Either he did, or he didn’t. But this pause, the subtle, quiet fear tightening his jaw, told me enough.
“Were you ever going to tell me you made a deal with my father to become king?”
That when I actually began to love our bond, it could potentially be taken away?
We landed in front of the arena doors. He set me down. Mud splattered up my legs. The evergreens were stripped bare—Hell was morphing into something I didn’t recognize.
“No, I wasn’t,” he admitted.
“Why?” I demanded. “Don’t you think that’s something I’d want to know? Something that may, I don’t know, affect me?”
“Lucille.” He brushed my cheek, his expression almost pained. “I’m not going to be king.”
“You’re not?”
He shook his head.
“But your deal.”
“I don’t care about the deal anymore.” He paused, his gaze turning sad. “Any of them.”
“I don’t understand.”
What else wasn’t he telling me?
“Lucille…”
That was the second time he’d said my name with that expression.
“I…” He swallowed and glanced toward the arena doors.
I turned. Aspen, Rune, and Hadrian stepped outside.
What were they doing down here so early? Training didn’t start for at least another hour.
“That was the information Cato was hiding?” Ronen asked.
That wasn’t what he was going to say. And we both knew it. But I played along.
“Yes,” I replied as Aspen and the Soulhounds walked over. “His notes were about the Unmaking Ceremony… its cost, his suspicions about what Etan did to Lucifer, and how Lucifer wanted you to replace him.”
“Etan?” Ronen growled.
“Yes.”
I told them about Cato’s journal. Then I told them about my dream-walk to Melanie and Lilith, something I still needed to tell Oliver.
Ronen scoffed. “I’m not surprised he’s somehow behind this.”
“Maybe Lilith and the first strain,” I said. “I’m not so sure about the second. But there may be a way to figure that out.”
“How?” Aspen asked.
“Anya.”
Both of their faces creased.
“She’s Lilith’s daughter. A blood-witch.”