Chapter 22
“You’re gonna be all right,” Finn muttered, staring down at her leg with a grim set to his mouth. “We’ve just—we’ve got to stop this bleeding.”
“It already stopped. I’m fine. Did you hear what I said? Lucifer knows.”
He ignored her, instead hiking Bea higher on his shoulder so that he could drop one hand to the buckle of his belt. “We have to put pressure on it. Make a tourniquet or—”
“I said I’m fine, Finn.”
“You are covered in blood,” he snapped. “You are not fine.”
“I already told you, it stopped—”
Oh.
His face was ashen, his jaw locked tight. If it weren’t for the look in his too-bright eyes, he might have passed for queasy. But she knew that look. She’d seen it before. Finn was scared. The last time he had seen her covered in blood like this, she’d—
“It looks worse than it is. I really am fine now.” She cursed the way her voice trembled. “See?”
Lucifer’s claws had pierced right through her jeans, leaving four finger-sized holes in the denim that she ripped the rest of the way through so that Finn could get a better look at her thigh.
Her skin was smeared with blood in various stages of drying, tacky in some places, wet in others, but the wounds themselves had closed.
Other than the blood and some lingering tenderness she’d probably be dealing with for the rest of the day, it was as if she’d never been injured.
His throat jerked hard. “I don’t— There’s too much blood. I can’t—”
“Here.” She grabbed the hand that was still resting on his belt and brought it to her throat, placing his fingers over where her pulse thrummed beneath her skin. “I’m okay. I promise.”
Demons couldn’t die, but she had a feeling telling him that wouldn’t soothe him the way giving him tangible proof that her heart was beating semi-steadily would.
As evidenced by how he kept his hand on her throat, counting the beats of her heart for a full minute before his shoulders finally sagged.
“Lucifer did this?” He grimaced. “He’s here?”
She nodded. “He was—” If Lucifer’s disguise had proven anything, it was that he could be anywhere, anyone, at any time.
“Not here anymore.” Her knee buckled when she stood, but she steadied herself with a hand against Finn’s hip before she could fall.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she reassured him before he could suggest otherwise. “Let’s just go.”
She led them out of the park and down the street, not slowing until they were inside Finn’s foyer, the door shut and the lock flipped. It was silly. If Lucifer wanted inside, nothing as flimsy as a two-inch door and a dead bolt would stop him, but it made her feel better anyway.
“Talk to me.”
Silly or not, she checked the lock one more time before turning around.
Finn stood, arms hanging by his sides, eyes full of anxiety.
He’d set Bea down on her tummy in the Pack ’n Play next to the couch.
Just looking at her, inchworming around, babbling a steady stream of buh, buh, buhs as she smacked her little hand against the dinosaurs on her play mat, made Effie’s heart clench.
“I have to go,” she whispered.
A muscle in his jaw ticked, his shoulders rising as he took a deep breath. “For how long?”
She stared at him, eyes stinging, willing for him to understand, to spare her the pain of having to say it.
Finn turned away and ran a hand through his hair. “What did he say to you?”
“He knows. About you. About us. He figured I’d come here. He’s been here this whole time posing as Mrs. Clootie.”
Finn went slack-jawed. “Mrs. Clootie?”
Effie perched on the edge of the sofa. “Turns out she took that vacation to see her grandkids in Florida after all.”
“An donas dubh,” he spit out.
“Needless to say”—she gestured to her leg—“he’s not pleased with me. He views my being with you as a betrayal. By remaining married to you, my loyalty is first and foremost to you, not him. He doesn’t like that.”
He crossed his arms. “Tough shit.”
“He issued me an ultimatum, Finn. Either you renounce your vows or—or he’s going to kill you.”
It didn’t matter what Lucifer had said, she refused to let him put a price on Finn’s soul. It was not for sale, but if Finn grew desperate enough, he might try to do the unthinkable. She’d rather not even put the thought in his mind.
“And before you ask, yes, he’s capable of it and he’ll do it. Belphegor was right, he’s unhinged.”
“No shit.” Finn scowled. “He fucking maimed you.”
“That’s nothing, Finn. He is the one who caused the accident. He made the driver lose control. He wanted me to understand how serious he is, what he’s capable of. Not that I needed a fucking demonstration, but he was all too happy to provide one.”
The bastard probably got off on it, the panic, the chaos. That was probably why he’d disappeared so quickly. He had to run off back to Hell to rub one out while the smell of fear and burning rubber was still fresh in his nose, Effie’s blood still wet on his fingers. Ugh, gross.
“I’m not renouncing my vows, Effie. So he kills me.” Finn shrugged, too careless to be talking about an outcome that made her feel like she was drowning. “That sucks, it fucking does. But I’ll come back. You’ll find me and we can—”
“He threatened Bea.”
Finn stumbled back a step and sagged against the wall, shattered. She hated herself for putting that look on his face, but she’d hate herself even more if something happened to Bea because of her.
“What are we going to do?” he asked, watching Bea chew on the corner of a board book about Bluey the dog.
“You have until midnight on the first to renounce your vows,” she said, that being the only thing they could do.
“And what’s going to stop him from going back on his word?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know him,” Finn said, crossing the room and sinking down on the couch next to her, “but from everything you’ve told me, it seems like something he’d do.
Especially if he’s as unhinged as you say he is.
We know he’s cruel.” He brushed his fingers over the top of her thigh.
“Did he say how he plans to punish you?”
Effie scoffed. “What, like this isn’t punishment enough?”
“What if it’s not enough for him?”
“I don’t care what he does to me. As long as you and Bea are—”
“I care,” he said. “I care what happens to you. But that’s not even what I meant.
I mean…Christ, let’s say I do renounce the vows—which I’m not going to do, but for the sake of the argument, let’s pretend.
Lucifer gets what he wants. What’s stopping him from coming back and killing me or—” He grimaced, unable to say the rest out loud. “As your actual punishment?”
Her heart sank.
Nothing. Nothing would stop him from doing what Finn had said. It sounded exactly like the sort of twisted scheme Lucifer would cook up—give her no choice but to give Finn up and then force her to watch him die.
She wouldn’t let that happen. Something had to be done.
How to stop him, that was the question. The only demon she knew who’d successfully thwarted Lucifer was Daphne—well, her girlfriend, Samantha, who was human. And now so was Daphne. Effie couldn’t imagine what kind of help they’d be, and she wouldn’t disturb their hard-won peace.
There was one person she could call. One person who understood how deranged Lucifer had become. Someone incredibly well connected and respected who would understand the gravity of this situation.
“You’re not going to like this.” She winced. “But I think I need to call Belphegor.”
She was pretty sure Finn had polished that glass already. No, she was positive he had.
The bar top was sparkling, the bottles of liquor all spaced perfectly in a row, nary a one out of place. He couldn’t stop moving, flitting from one piece of busywork to another before returning to the first to do it all over again. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Not that she had any room to judge. She’d racked and reracked the pool balls six times, cleared the table four times all by herself, and now she was alternating between watching Finn and watching the clock. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
11:56 a.m.
Finn slipped out from behind the bar, a bottle of whiskey from the top shelf in hand. He leaned against the pool table beside her, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig straight from the bottle.
“Before noon? I’m a bad influence.”
Finn lowered the bottle and laughed. “I’m about to play host to seven demons, one of whom is your blaigeard of an ex-fiancé. If any occasion calls for alcohol, it’s this.”
He offered her the bottle, and she took it gladly.
Belphegor could have easily ignored her call, but he hadn’t.
He could’ve shut her down, but instead he’d heard her out, listening as she’d recounted her absolute shit show of a run-in with Lucifer and the ultimatum he’d given her, the threats he’d leveled, the timeline with which they were working.
When she’d finished, he’d heaved a sigh, a wearier sound than she’d ever heard him make, and had told her he’d feared this day would come.
He needed a couple of hours, he’d said, and would be in touch shortly.
Precisely two hours later, he’d called back.
The Seven Princes had agreed to meet with her.
All of the highest-ranking demons leaving Hell in tandem on the same day Lucifer had made his presence in Silver Springs known would have been suspicious, so they’d decided to stagger their departures over the following two days, pushing their meeting with her and Finn to Monday.
Not ideal, considering they only had through tomorrow to figure out what the hell they were going to do to get out from behind this damn eight ball and stop Lucifer.
Neither she nor Finn had gotten much sleep the night before, and neither had Bea.
It was as if she’d been able to sense their unease and had been restless, too, because of it.
Hopefully she’d nap better for her grandmother, who was watching her while Effie and Finn met with the unofficial envoy from Hell.
“He said noon?” Finn asked.
“Noon. He’ll be here at twelve on the dot.”