Chapter 12 #3
She scowls. “Fuck.” Then her eyes narrow. “Wait a minute. Demons are all supposed to be confined to Hell, where they were banished by the archangels, so what’s that one doing here?” She stares at the floor. “How did it get down there?”
“And now you’ve pretty much caught up to where we are,” Sam says.
“Hang on.” Dusty holds up her hand and sniffs the air, much as Lucien did when he first walked in.
Looking confused, she turns her head and sniffs again.
Her gaze falls on Lucien, and she leans in close to him, inhaling tentatively.
Suddenly, her eyes widen and she takes a step back, sucking in a sharp breath.
“You’re not human,” she whispers in shock. “You’re Hell-born.”
I look at him in surprise. That explains the impression of smoke and ash I got when I shook his hand. It also explains why his skin’s so hot, but I haven’t really got a clue what a Hell-born is. Beyond, of course, what the title would suggest—that Lucien was born in Hell.
“Perceptive, aren’t you?” Lucien grins.
I’m aware of Sam moving closer to me, and I’m so tempted to lean forward and breathe in the sexy scent of him, which is really inadvisable.
I’m pretty certain that will only lead to a live-action replay of last night in my head, and my sore arse is enough of a reminder without me sporting an inconvenient erection to match.
“You’re not a demon, are you?” Tristan tries to push Danny aside so he can see.
“No, I am not,” Lucien says indignantly. “Just because I was born in the Hell dimensions doesn’t automatically make me evil. It’s just like Earth.”
“Sorry, come again?” Sam blinks in confusion.
“Humans are born on Earth, but they’re not all born equal,” Lucien replies.
“You’ve got your pure of heart, your do-gooders.
You know, people who donate kidneys to strangers, devote their lives to the betterment of others, give expecting nothing in return.
Then you’ve got your pure evil, your serial killers, politicians, bankers…
those people who leave the cap off the toothpaste and squeeze the tube from the middle.
My point is you can’t stereotype someone just based on where they come from.
It’s the deeds that make the person, not the circumstances. ”
“He has a point,” Sam concedes.
“Are we just supposed to trust you?” Danny squints at Lucien. “For all we know, you’re the one who killed Viv.”
“Viv?” Lucien tilts his head thoughtfully before pointing to the photos still out on the desk. “I’m guessing that’s Viv?”
“Didn’t Mr Hadley explain everything to you?”
Lucien shrugged. “He gave me the basics. From what I understand, Hadley and Mason have had some suspicions about a devil’s trap for several decades, but they were unable to confirm, and the owners of the property were being quite tight-lipped.
For someone like me, who’s from the Hell dimensions, recognising demon activity is pretty easy. ”
“And you definitely can’t read the symbols that were used on Vivienne?” I clarify.
Lucien shakes his head. “Like I said, that particular version is one of the oldest forms, a lost language. There’s only one person I know who would definitely be able to read it, but she’s busy right now.”
“That’s not very helpful.” I cross my arms, more to keep from touching Sam than from any real annoyance.
“You know, the demon that’s trapped down there?” Lucien strokes his beard. “If he’s old enough, he probably knows the language. Which means he’s awake enough to be whispering in someone’s ear.”
I’m vaguely aware that Lucien is explaining to them that whoever raises a demon and binds it by magic would literally be a god among men. But I don’t need to listen; I know first-hand because I’ve witnessed it.
It’s the power Cordelia wielded.
“Does anyone else get the feeling we’re in really deep shit?” Sam murmurs.
“I have to go.” Lucien frowns. “There’s someone who needs to know about this.” He turns towards the door. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Wait!” I call out, and Lucien pauses, twisting to look back in my direction. “What do you know about the trap itself? How was it made? How was it used to imprison a demon?”
“I’ve only ever heard of one other demon trap like this one.
It was created and sealed with blood magic, the strongest magic there is.
If this is the same, then it means it can only be unlocked by the blood of a direct descendant of whoever trapped the demon in there in the first place.
I have to go,” he repeats, and without another word or backwards glance, he stalks out of the shop, the merry tinkle of bells ringing out in the sudden silence as the door closes.
I stare at the door and as I try to make sense of everything I’ve discovered, Lucien’s words keep repeating in my mind.
He’s awake enough to be whispering in someone’s ear.
My mouth is dry and a wave of nausea washes over me as a new and terrifying thought occurs to me. What if I have this all wrong? What if it’s not Cordelia showing me her memories.
What if it’s the demon?