possible. “I fell through the Nihil portal in the Vestibule,” I say, trying to keep my voice even instead of shaking with nerves. Channel Iceman, I tell myself. Be cool and smooth.
“You fell,” Elle says evenly, like she doesn’t quite believe me.
Lucifer suddenly leans forward, and I freeze, unable to answer. How could I have thought any kind of salacious thoughts toward this guy? I can feel the oppressive predator prowling just under the surface. If I had anything in my bladder, I’d be pissing myself right about now. His eyes hold me captive, worse than the bars down in the dungeon.
“Are you a spy?” he suddenly asks, a darkness descending over the dinner table. It’s menacing, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the menageries huddling in the corner, cringing away.
My heart wants to thump right out of my chest and run out of the room. This isn’t a threat that hangs in the air—this isn’t just a curious discussion over dinner. Everything is suddenly very clear. They won’t hesitate to end me, and then probably go right back to eating their fucking worms. I’m in mortal danger.
Suddenly, my right hand prickles with heat. I flinch at the sensation, and right before my eyes, my scythe appears in my hand, sturdy and solid.
My fingers grip around it at the same time that I jump to my feet with wide, shocked eyes.
There’s a collective gasp that rings through the air like a whip.
“You dare draw a weapon?” someone shouts—I’m not sure which male it is.
“No, I—it was an accident!” I exclaim as I try and fail to drop the damn thing. I shake my hand frantically, opening up my fingers, but the fucking scythe won’t drop. It’s like it’s super glued to my palm. Oh, now it wants to be best friends? Where was it when I was fighting for my life before? Or when my prick of an Abdicated father was locking me in a cell? I glare at the black and silver staff in my hand, not sure if I want to smash it to splinters or hug it.
“Tazreel, let me kill your offspring for this grave offense,” Ginger says, her face a blaze of wrath and looking even more like a warrior who’s ready to behead me.
Smash it to splinters, it is...
“Wait.”
Everyone freezes, including me, as Lucifer gets to his feet and walks over to where I’m standing, shaking in my heels.
“Luce—” Tazreel says, but the Devil just holds up a hand to shut him up as he stands in front of me, eyeing the scythe.
“I know this weapon.” His light blue gaze flickers up to my eyes, and a slow, scary fucking smile spreads across his face. “I know who your mother is.”
6
Peals of laughter fill the cavernous room, and I stare dumbfounded as I watch Evil Incarnate lose his mind to the giggles.
One second, he was standing over me with that creepy fucking grin after he announced the truth bomb that he knows who my mother is, and the next, hysterical with laughter.
I don’t know if I’m supposed to be offended by this, but I am really fucking confused.
I’m not sure which freaks me out more about the Bearer of Light: when he’s serious and exhaling pure foreboding or when he’s laughing so hard he has to wipe tears from his captivating frost-blue eyes. Both are pretty scary.
The room watches Satan slap his knee and hold his side, gasping for breath in between guffaws. I look to Tazreel, who watches his friend with a look of frustration, shock, and mortification. He does not like Lucifer laughing at his expense. Not one bit. I study the other Abdicated and see a mixture of surprise, satisfaction, and burning curiosity.
Lucifer looks over to Tazreel and shakes his head as he titters. “I don’t even know how you found her, let alone convinced her to fuck you,” he comments, upping the need that’s bleeding out of everyone to be let in on the secret that has him in hysterics.
“Who is it then?” Tazreel demands, his tone flustered and his eyes sparking with exasperation.
The Devil shakes his head. “Oh, no. It’s just too good. I might just have to sit on this one for a while longer. But new rule, Taz. You’re not allowed to punish this progeny of yours. She’s officially under my umbrella of protection.”
Tazreel crosses his arms and sits back in his chair with a humph, like he’s pouting. I jump when the Devil’s