CHAPTER EIGHT #2
It was also why I didn’t hide the truth from her now. “I want a meeting,” I said.
“To save the Beast?” Lyari’s eyebrows knit together, her tone lilting with disbelief. She knew about my history with Oliver, of course, and the vow I’d made.
“To save everyone. The devil will keep killing until he gets what he wants, and there’ll be consequences whenever he does find that grave.” I paused, allowing her to see the unease in my eyes. “Something tells me all of this is only the beginning, Ly. I have to do whatever I can to stop him.”
The corners of her mouth deepened. “Even if I did agree to such a reckless request, I don’t have any connections to him left, my lady. I swear to you on the ashes of my bloodline.”
Lyari fell silent, probably waiting for me to argue. Unfortunately, I believed her. Shit, I thought. Of course this couldn’t just be easy. Out loud I said, “It’s okay. I’ll figure something else out.”
I couldn’t quite hide the strange note in my voice as I realized what this meant. Without Lyari, my only other connection to the devil was … Oliver.
I felt my friend’s sharp eyes assessing me.
Had she guessed what I was thinking? Just as I had with Emma when she’d been too perceptive, I allowed my exhaustion to shine through, hoping Lyari would blame that for whatever she’d seen.
Relief caught in my chest when she said, “Get some rest, Your Majesty. You look terrible.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” I said. She started to turn away again, but my voice stopped her. “Hey, Ly? Think about what I said, okay?”
She stood there for a moment, one hand on her hip, the other resting on the hilt of her sword. I couldn’t see her face, but something in the line of her shoulders emanated … consideration. “Okay,” she said at last.
Before I could say anything else, she sifted.
I was slightly disappointed as I moved to get my things.
I’d been hoping our conversation would end with her sitting in the passenger seat and returning with me.
As usual, I had been too fast, too ambitious.
Some things moved more slowly, and I needed to be patient.
Today was a start, at least. I remembered the look on Lyari’s face when I’d asked her to come back.
A good start, I thought.
As my car keys jangled in my hand, I realized that it was probably for the best Lyari hadn’t accepted my invitation. It might’ve just put her in harm’s way, like Finn. Tonight, I needed to be alone.
Tonight, I was going to summon Oliver.
For once, fate was on my side. When I got back to the loft, I found it empty.
With how many people lived here, and also people who didn’t live here coming and going, too, there was always someone around.
Making noise, living, talking. I liked the chaos, but it could make sleep a challenge.
Especially when one of your roommates was a baby.
As I set my keys down, I looked around the still, shadowed room and knew exactly what I’d do with this opportunity.
There was cleaning to do—since Matthew had come into our lives, there always seemed to be cleaning to do—and there were some things of my own I’d been wanting to do.
Things that were unrelated to Oliver and Lucifer, who consumed my every waking moment and most of my sleeping ones, too.
But cleaning and to-do lists would have to come later.
Instead, I went right to the couch and lay down.
There was a blanket draped on the armrest, which I shook open and draped over myself.
The scent clinging to the blanket hit me.
It smelled like Collith. All the tension left my body and I released a long, low sigh.
My eyes fluttered shut, and within seconds, I was falling into darkness.
Just before I plummeted to the depths, I had a single thought.
Oliver.
Summoning him was even easier than I’d thought it would be.
I could feel his familiar essence on the other side of consciousness, lurking like a shark beneath the water.
The moment our minds connected, I felt a burst of doubt.
Maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe I should’ve found another way to contact Lucifer.
What if Oliver used my power again? What if he hurt someone else I loved when I woke up?
It was too late to stop now. I’d already jumped. Terror ripped through me, and I opened my eyes expecting to find myself in one of Oliver’s dreams, which could only be rife with blood and death.
Grass rustled all around me.
Stunned confusion clouded my mind as I turned in a circle. I’d thought I would never see this place again. With Oliver free and the fact that we hadn’t been here since the night Finn died, I had believed it was destroyed, or at the very least lost in the dark recesses of my mind.
The dreamscape wasn’t destroyed, but it was changed.
The sky roiled with gray clouds. A few rays of light managed to break through and touch the ground, but there was nothing whimsical about the picture. Wind howled over the grass, whipping the long strands in every direction, making our peaceful meadow a violent sea.
Tonight I wore a white dress. It flattened against my breasts and thighs as I scanned the horizon, searching for him. A moment later, it felt like my heart stumbled in my chest.
Oliver stood in the distance, a dark shape against the dying light.
Slowly, we began walking toward each other.
The wind seemed to come from every direction, as if it couldn’t decide whether to urge me toward Oliver or push me away from him.
Once we were within earshot of each other, we stopped.
The wind tousled Oliver’s golden hair, and I longed to reach up and fix it as I had a thousand times before.
My fingers curled into fists. There was a beat of tense, tangled silence between us.
“Is this real?” I asked tightly.
As soon as the question left my mouth, I thought of Finn. I felt the gentle sway of the fishing boat beneath us as he told me, Depends on your definition of real.
It felt like I was going around in circles, asking the same questions and making the same mistakes.
Oliver was silent. I lifted my chin to face him, and he gazed back at me with sadness in his eyes. I knew I needed to ask about Olorel’s grave, but the responding ache in my chest made it difficult to think about anything except Oliver, and us, and how we’d gotten here.
“Why is this the first time we’ve been back?” I gestured to the hills around us. “Why haven’t I seen the dreamscape since you … since …”
I stopped, my throat filling, and Oliver’s shoulders hunched against the wind as if he was cold. It was that night, I thought as I watched his jaw tighten. He didn’t want to talk about it, either. Well, that was too damn bad.
“You guard your mind with a door. Until tonight, it’s been closed to me,” Oliver said.
The sound of his voice made the ache worse.
I swallowed and turned my head, looking toward the horizon.
In the short time since we’d been standing there, the clouds had gotten darker.
The sky that had once been such a bright, endless blue was bleak and churning, as if the dreamscape itself was mourning what we had lost.
I turned back to Oliver reluctantly, knowing we didn’t have much time.
Any second now, someone in my family would return home and probably wake me.
I’d come here for a reason. The wind blew a lock of hair into Oliver’s eyes, and he sounded so much like the boy I’d always known as he asked, “How are you?”
My heart was throbbing now. I wanted to respond with something cruel, but all I could bring myself to say was, “Not great.”
“Same,” Oliver murmured. His gaze bored into mine, so piercing and blue. I looked back and forced myself to remember the last house. The freshest memory of what Oliver was. Torn limbs. Exposed ribs. Red walls.
“I saw your latest,” I said abruptly. There was another heartbeat of thick, tense silence.
Then Oliver was the one to look away, his jaw clenching again.
So he did feel shame for what he’d done, I thought, watching the tics and tells in his profile.
Even from the side, I could read him better than any map or book.
I was still watching Oliver when I finally told him, “I found the note, too. What does Lucifer want with Olorel’s grave? ”
Oliver’s voice was flat. “I don’t know. He doesn’t trust me. He gives the orders, and I have to follow them.”
My eyebrows rose. “If his control over you is so absolute, how were you able to put the note back? Why did I dream about him torturing you? You’re not a dog, Oliver. You’re not his pet.”
My words made him withdraw even further, and the wind became ferocious now. It whipped more strands of Oliver’s sun-touched hair around his face as he growled, “I don’t want your pity.”
“I don’t pity you. You made every choice that got us to this point. The only reason I opened the door tonight is because … because I need you to arrange a meeting with him.” My heart raced as the words left my mouth.
But Oliver was already shaking his head. “No. He won’t tolerate any more delays, Fortuna. He’s merciless. If you do something to interfere, he’ll kill you. Regardless of whatever you think exists between you.”
There was no reproach in his tone, but I still bristled with guilt and shame. Above us, the sky continued to dim. “If you won’t help me, why did you even come?” I snapped.
“I’m here because I miss you.”
Oliver said it so simply, and his bluntness disarmed me. Grief burned through my veins, and for an instant, I swore I could taste ash in my mouth. I glared at him through a sheen of bright, furious tears.