best described her state.
“Lucifer is trying to keep you off-balance,” he continued.
“Point for him. Kayley was always going to be here, wasn’t she? No matter what night we finally showed?” God, she was tired of being manipulated.
“Yes.”
Okay, she could deal with this. Not like she had a choice. She tracked her sister’s movements, soaking in every minute detail.
“I don’t know her at all,” she murmured. And that hurt worse than she could ever have imagined.
“No, you don’t.” Maccus’s voice was a deep rumble in her ear.
The past ten years of her life, she’d consoled herself with the knowledge her sister had gotten away from the devil, was living a carefree and simple life, pursuing her art. It was all a lie, one she’d told herself so she could accept the life she’d chosen, convince herself that her sacrifice had been for the greater good.
But it hadn’t been. Not at all.
But Kayley said they’d talk later. Maybe there was more to the situation than she was aware.
As much as she tried to kill it, hope refused to die. A stubborn part of her refused to believe her sister had betrayed her, in spite of the proof in front of her.
Maccus stood beside her, his gaze deadly and watchful. Good thing one of them was paying attention because she certainly wasn’t. Their enemies were still out there and could launch some kind of attack at any time.
She was not being a very good partner.
“Do you see anyone suspicious?” she asked. A waiter strolled by, and she liberated one of the glasses of wine from his tray. She needed something to settle her churning stomach and calm her nerves. She didn’t bother taking one for Maccus, unable to imagine him sipping white wine. Maybe that wasn’t being fair to him.
“Want some?” She held out the glass to him. He surprised her when he took it and had a sip. The delicate glass looked ridiculously small in his oversize hand.
“It’s safe,” he pronounced before handing it back.
“Um, I assumed it was.” After all, the wine was being passed around to everyone in attendance.
“Never assume.”
“Right.” Best not to forget who and what they were dealing with. She took the wine and had a cautious taste. It was better than what was usually served at such events. Not that she’d been to many, but every year or so, she’d take herself to some cultural event, just to feel as though she was still a part of the world. Demon hunting was all-consuming and soul-destroying.
It would be so easy to lose her humanity.
Was that what had happened to her sister?
Her phone rang. She closed her eyes and sighed. Why now? She dragged her cell out of her pocket and answered. “Yes.”
“Are you enjoying the show?” Not Emmett, but Lucifer. She motioned to Maccus but needn’t have bothered. He was staring intently at the phone. Knowing he could hear the conversation helped settle her.
“Not particularly. The art isn’t to my taste.”
“Really?”
“Not my favorite subject matter.” It was official. She was out of her mind taunting him like this, but some devil had her tongue. The unintentional pun almost made her smile. Almost.
There was nothing funny about the situation she was in.
“You obviously lack taste. I’ll be seeing you.” The line went dead, and she stared at it for a long moment before tucking the phone away.
“What do you think?” she asked Maccus.
“His goal is to unsettle you. He may be here himself, but I don’t think so, not yet. Which means he has someone here. Let’s walk.”
Depositing the still mostly full glass on a low table, she followed. The art lining the walls drew her attention. The skill was undeniable, even as the content was horrific.
Her nightmares were up on the wall for everyone to see, to dissect and discuss over their drinks. None of them understood the brutal and terrifying reality. And her sister had painted every single one of them.
All