Chapter 14 Maeve #2
Lucifer laughs darkly. “The last time I heard my name in that tone, someone ended up—”
“That’s enough,” Adrian says, his tone low and controlled. “We’ve got much to discuss, and it’s time to be honest with each other.”
Lucifer snorts. “You’d die of shock.”
A few knives of cold laughter scrape across crystal glass.
“You’ll behave if you know what is good for you, devil spawn,” Brianne says sweetly, though her smile is pure razors.
Horrible fucking bitch.
“You’ll shut up if you don’t want the devil to come slit your throat while you sleep,” Lucifer replies, even sweeter, without batting an eye.
Hadrian exhales sharply—half-warning, half-plea—as he flicks a murderous look towards his aunt.
Dorian clears his throat, claiming the floor without permission.
“We’ve allowed this disarray to continue far too long. And now the Tribunal has questions.”
He doesn’t even look at his mate while she simpers beside him.
I thought he’d at least try to defend her from Lucifer, but he acts like it was nothing.
Mating bonds mean something in our world. Even to me. But to the Graves family, it’s clear they’re nothing more than another currency—only useful when it comes to cashing them in.
What a fucking joke.
Julian stiffens, and his fork trembles in his hand. His gaze drops to his full plate, and I feel a wave of dread wash over me.
The light pegasus is keeping secrets from me. I had no doubt of that, but do the rest of them know what he’s hiding?
I hope so.
Bharlo folds his hands, leaning forward with that lazy cruelty only men born into power ever master.
“We’re not here to dredge up our sordid past. Instead, we need to focus on the true purpose of this meeting—last night,” the elephorian says, eyes sliding towards me. “You shut yourself off, little Quinn, and we never got to face the truth of it.”
My chromius snarls so loudly I feel the vibration in my teeth.
Lucifer’s head snaps towards his uncle. “Careful, Bharlo, I’ve cut tongues out for less.”
That shouldn’t impress me, right? I shouldn’t like that Lucifer’s willing to cut out someone’s tongue for me, right?
“I blame you,” I hiss to my chromius. She hums, satisfied and content, wrapping her tail around herself.
“Lucifer,” Dorian says mildly, as if he’s not provoking a fucking imp with a temper, “some of us would like to understand the full story.”
Do they think I have the full story of last night? What part are they even referring to? Judge Garrison’s breakout? Julian’s time in the slammer?
The murder of my stepdad?
I don’t like being ignorant. It puts you into a position of weakness, and that’s the last thing I need.
“And you think you’re entitled to that, Uncle?” Hadrian asks, leaning forward, slowly twirling his knife into the table like he’s carving a threat.
Helen’s eyes narrow at the blade, but she stays silent.
Smart woman. The only one with half a brain at this table, I’d wager.
“I think you’re once again forgetting who the true patriarch of this table is,” Adrian announces, tone dipped in arrogance and entitlement. “I didn’t call this meeting so you could bully the boys. I called it so we could all get on the same page.
“Last night, TRAC was breached by an unknown entity. We lost one of our prisoners and endured the biggest lockdown we’ve ever had. Yes, it was handled quickly, and we’ve reassured the public—”
“You were lying,” I cut in. “As you’re so good at doing. So, is Rowan back in power? Is he on the loose? Or is he…”
I trail off, noticing the paleness in Helen’s face, and it’s clear what happened. Well—what the result is.
The how of it all is probably a mystery Adrian’s hoping someone else is going to solve for him.
“Dead, yes,” Adrian says simply. Too simply.
My pulse stutters, and my chromius lets out a very vindictive whine of appreciation.
Psychotic creature.
“We’re in unprecedented times, and we need to band together as a family to maintain control of the narrative. We can’t have any weak links, and we can’t let this news travel.”
If he wanted to keep a secret, he probably shouldn’t have shared it with the lot of us. Fool.
“Are we expecting a repeat?” Tarun asks, voice careful, eyes darting.
“And why him?” Gavin adds, and, for once, his voice doesn’t grate on me.
Shame. Silence suits him better.
Julian opens his mouth, his lips parting around words he doesn’t want to say.
Such a weak little boy.
Hadrian tenses beside me, ready to lie if it covers whatever unease he’s feeling.
Another idiot who clearly has never had to think for himself.
Lucifer’s shadows crackle under his skin. This one might be insane, but at least he’s eager. Prepared, hungry… ready to win.
Brianne picks that exact second to slide her gaze towards Hadrian. And she smiles like she knows exactly where to stick the knife.
“It’s obvious, Gavin,” she purrs. “Her.”
The table turns to me like I’m the punchline of a joke they’ve all been dying to finish.
I give them a smile bright enough to be rude.
“Aren’t I just so lucky. Another one of my enemies dead. I should really send out thank-you notes.” I smirk to cover my anxiety. “You lot want to be careful because we’re working our way down the most hated list, it’ll be one of you next.”
You know, after another eighty or so people. Adrian’s mine to handle, and the rest of these people don’t rank high enough to warrant being a target.
But if I can unsettle them, then I will.
“Now, Maeve,” Hadrian drawls, winking when I pout, “don’t ruin the bonding. We don’t want your bloodthirsty admirer targeting my family. That’s our job.”
Lucifer beams. “See? This is why you’re my favourite, baby cuz.”
“Wait—what?” Julian starts, but Gavin slices him off with a snarl.
“And that is why you two are the disappointments of the family,” Gavin snarls. “You can’t be serious, even in the face of true threats.”
“What’s threatening for you about Garrison being dead?” I ask, raising a brow. “Unless… oh, Gavvy boy, did you make a mistake and let the judge cover up some of your dirt? Uh, oh.”
“Uh, oh indeed.” Lucifer doesn’t even try to control his glee. “Nothing better than a dead man holding the secrets of your corruption. Unless… well, unless he told someone.”
“Who is to say?” I ask, tapping my nails onto the table. Brianne tenses, and it draws a flinch from Leanne.
It’s worth my own discomfort if it can rattle them.
Marianne hums as she places her napkin delicately in her lap. To her, it’s almost as if we’re debating brunch menus and not dead men and political rot.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” she says. “But that’s not my worry—it’s you. None of you boys have told the truth since being here.”
That’s the worst change of subject I’ve ever witnessed. She’s not even flipping the narrative, she’s just discarding it like it never mattered.
“You look exhausted, nephew,” Brianne says, soft as poison, as she reaches over to take Julian’s hand. He’s so desperate to be loved that he takes it.
Fuck me dead.
I don’t know whether to scream, cry, or leave.
“Overworked. Stretched. Burdened by something you’re trying to carry alone,” she continues gently. “Don’t throw your life away to try and impress your cousins. They’re useless to you, my sweet boy.”
It’s intriguing that it’s Brianne who has to make this plea rather than Julian’s own mother. Instead, Leanne’s staring at her other son, her lip curled up in a sneer.
Hadrian’s fingers curl around the table, wood groaning under his grip. A pulse of darkness ripples under his skin.
“Aunt—” he warns.
But Julian snaps, snatching his hand back to everyone’s surprise.
“Don’t. Stop trying to fucking manipulate me. You’re toxic—all of you. I’m done. I’ve seen past the bullshit and the lies. We’re not better than anyone else. I quit. I quit this fucking purity parade.”
“Oh, boys,” Marianne sighs, dripping pity so fake it should be flammable. “You all used to be such a united front. Now look at you.” She bristles her fingers, tracing the air between the cousins. “Fractured.”
Lucifer laughs sharply. “Fractured implies something was whole to begin with.”
Brianne ignores him—because, of course, she does—and swivels her attention to me.
To me.
“And, Maeve,” she coos like I’m an unstable child she needs to try and rein in. “I imagine you’re feeling… lost.”
Leanne leans across the table, faux-warmth surrounding her. “Confused.”
Bharlo nods, slow and predatory. “Afraid.”
Their words slither through the air like smoke, thickening, curling, poisoning.
Have they not heard about the years of torture I endured from Sonia? The alkonost who I had to learn to resist.
Do they really think that their fake pity is enough to sway me?
How pathetic do they think I am?
Adrian watches everything. He doesn’t say a word and instead is scanning every reaction like he’s reading the chessboard to decide which pieces deserve to be sacrificed first.
The men around me go still—three different predators scenting danger.
Their bodies angle subtly towards me, tension spiking so high I can taste it.
Across the table, Gavin lifts his glass, that smug little sneer twisting his mouth.
“So,” he says. “Perhaps someone here would like to tell us exactly why Maeve’s pussy is—”
“You fucker,” Lucifer roars, and then he’s gone. The heat of his body leaves, but the danger increases.
I startle as, within the blink of an eye, the man is gone, and, in its place, a tiny red blur erupts where he’d been sitting.
His imp form is a creature no bigger than my hand, wings slicing the air with demonic fury.
He’s practically non-existent. I don’t even understand how he can be so small but contain so much power.
It’s pouring from him, smothering the air, practically drawing the shadows in.
Another blink—and he’s gone again. When he reappears, it’s behind Gavin.
The pegasus whines sharply, panic slicing through the polished air. But no matter his power, the pegasus is no match for Lucifer.