He hated the idea that the old Abigail might have only loved him for the same reasons that Kelsie did. Maybe that was the real reason her soul wouldn’t return to him when he called for her in the underworld. Baba had said it was his love that had helped spark the growth of that sliver of soul he’d placed in her, but she might be wrong.
Even with leshi tears and the blanket he quilted, what would any of that matter if he wasn’t her true love?
CHAPTER NINE
Abby and Abigail
Lucifer gave Kelsie a quick hug in the morning to show there were no hard feelings between them. Baba raised an eyebrow, her disapproval evident.
He went over and kissed Baba on the top of her head next.
“You buttering me up for favor? I am immune to your incubus charms.”
“No. I was just thinking we all need some human contact from time to time. It makes the world less lonely.” He patted her hand gently, feeling the arthritis he’d gotten better at blocking.
“Pah. Do not try hugging leshi.” Baba tried to scowl at him, but he could tell she liked his hand on hers. Not in a lusty grandma way, but because she needed human contact too. Sometimes he forgot that about her.
“Today after breakfast, you should let me rub that salve on your hands and feet and we can see if we can get some of your arthritis to stop ailing you,” he said.
“Where is selfish young man from yesteryear?” Baba shook her head. “Who has replaced my apprentice?”
“The pod people,” Kelsie said.
He gave her a good-natured shove, and she shoved him back.
Perhaps he was making a mistake being so friendly and touching other people casually without a concern for his powers, but Lucifer wanted to ensure he didn’t alienate himself from Kelsie. He needed a friend, and so did she.
There was a world of hurt that opened up inside her each time he spoke about the leshi. He would be the friend she needed and help her through that.
He needed to collect the leshi’s tears. It wasn’t going to be easy for her hearing more stories that didn’t end with the revenge for which she yearned. But perhaps he could show her that this leshi wasn’t like the others. There was a good chance those leshi were now gone. If MacCoinneach had destroyed them in self-defense, that made him an ally, not an enemy.
This might be Lucifer’s chance to help someone forgive and heal. He could help Kelsie not repeat Abby’s mistakes.
While Lucifer left the cottage to collect water, a raven landed on the fence post, the talons curling into the empty socket of the skull. The bird growled out a croak, the cry ominous despite the otherwise cheery afternoon. The last time a raven had come, she had brought a package of letters. This time she carried nothing.
“Have you something to say?” he asked. “A message for me?”
The raven cocked her head to the side, studying him. She lifted off and left him.
A murder of crows—or more likely a conspiracy of ravens—circled overhead when he returned from collecting water. That alerted Lucifer it wasn’t going to be an ordinary day.
Perhaps they were Clarissa’s messengers intent on snatching up Baba’s books. Or perhaps they were the old Raven Queen’s spies and assassins, their need for revenge only satiated if they picked out his eyes.
“Should I be worried?” he asked Baba.
“Nyet. Time will tell.”
“Why don’t you consult your crystal ball?” Kelsie asked.
“My eyes are tired,” Baba said. “You use divination if you want to see future so badly.”
Baba did look tired. She’d wrapped two blankets around herself in her chair. Her fingers moved slowly as she knitted the yarn of her latest blanket. Lucifer hoped his conversation with Kelsie hadn’t kept her up. He rubbed balm on her swollen ankle and her hands before going outside to the garden.
Lucifer was using the hoe to weed the garden when the carriage rolled up. He recognized the swirling patterns decorating the exterior from the last time Queen Clarissa of the Red Court had come calling with Queen Vega of the Raven Court. School teachers turned witch queens—he couldn’t imagine anything worse.
The last time Clarissa had come, she’d taken Abigail away so that she might be safe from Baba. That had been two achingly long months ago.
The curtains of the carriage parted, and Abigail poked her freckled face out. Her auburn hair had been braided into a crown on top of her head. She looked like a storybook princess. His heart clenched in his chest at the unexpectedness of seeing her. He feared she might be a mirage.
Abigail grinned and waved. “Lucy!”
The chasm of longing in his chest since she’d left transformed to hope. He couldn’t imagine why they were visiting now without warning, but he didn’t care. He was so happy to see her nothing else mattered.
Lucifer ran to the fence made of bones and scaled it easily with his long legs. Abigail didn’t even let the carriage come to a full stop before she flung the door open and jumped out. She ran to him, her arms open and welcoming.
She leapt up into his embrace, covering his face with kisses. Lucifer felt as though he could have died happy at that moment, his relief at seeing her was so great. Her touch soothed the yearning in his soul. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her lips to his.
“Abby!” Clarissa called from the carriage. “Remember what we talked about. Ask before you kiss people.”
Clarissa’s words were enough to remind Lucifer he had an audience—and how improper this must seem to them. Abigail had progressed, but she was still like a child, and he was kissing her back. He wanted to stop and he didn’t at the same time.
Abigail pulled away, blushing. He set her down.
“Sorry about that,” Clarissa said, coming out of the carriage.
She was dressed in hot-pink stripes and polka-dots that matched her dyed pink hair. She looked like a doll with her diminutive size and her fluffy style of dress. Her attire was outlandish compared to Abigail’s modest green dress. Clarissa looked more like a child than Abigail, even if she was the older one now.
“She’s always kissing people on the mouth,” Clarissa said. “We’re trying to break her of that habit.” She sounded like she could have been Abigail’s mother. In a way, that was almost her role now.
Abigail grimaced. “I’m not always kissing people. Just people I like.” A shy smile tugged at her lips as she looked back at Lucifer.
He placed an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side. “Abby, I missed you so much.”
She tilted her head back, laughing with the abandon of a child. “I missed you more.”
He grinned at her in delight. “No. I missed you more.” It amazed him to hear her talking in complete sentences. “How much time has passed since I saw you last?”
Time ticked by differently in the Faerie Realm and pockets of time sometimes passed inconsistently. She looked so much older. He wondered whether she was eighteen yet.
“It’s been forever,” she said. “Six horrible months.”
She probably wasn’t even seventeen. Still so young. And her soul even younger. Six months was a long time to go without a complete soul. He couldn’t help feeling like he’d already let her down again.
“Has it been horrible?” he asked.
Two months in his time with only a couple of letters slipped under the door had been horrible enough. He could hardly imagine how hard it had been for Abigail to be separated from the only people she knew and to be forced to live with a new family. No matter how kind they might be to her in comparison to what Baba had done, the transition couldn’t have been easy.
“Horrible?” Clarissa marched toward them, a strained smile on her face. “You make it sound as if we don’t feed you and we lock you in the dungeon.”
“Queen Vega did lock me up once, but she said that was because I snuck down there when I wasn’t supposed to and if I wanted to see the dungeon that bad, I deserved to get a bett
er look.” Abigail giggled. “But I was only there for about twenty minutes before Felix found me and let me out.”
Clarissa stood before him. Lucifer didn’t know what she was waiting for. Perhaps there were formalities he was forgetting.
“Good day to you, Clarissa,” he said.
“It’s Queen Clarissa to you,” Vega Bloodmire said, exiting the carriage and sweeping past. She was opposite of Clarissa in every way—tall, brooding, and formidable in her all-black ensemble. The spiky crown set on top of her midnight hair glistened like an oil slick. Wordlessly, she glided into the cottage.
Clarissa rolled her eyes.
Kelsie exited the cottage, wiping her hands on her apron. “What am I? Chopped liver? Is Lucy the only one you give hugs to these days?”
Clarissa stared at Kelsie. Probably it was her hair, as vivid as the blue sky. They’d met before, though Clarissa had probably been too distressed about Abigail to notice anyone else.
Abigail stopped hugging Lucifer long enough to run to Kelsie and embrace her. She kissed Kelsie on the cheek. “I missed you too. And your cooking.”
“You’re a liar.” Kelsie shoved Abigail into Lucifer.
Abigail giggled. “Remember those cookies that were so hard we had to dunk them in tea to make them soft? Those were my favorites. Trevor is giving me cooking lessons in the kitchen, and we made biscotti. I think that’s the closest we got to your cooking. Also, I miss your bedtime stories and the times we used to sing together doing laundry.” Abigail hugged her again.
Lucifer couldn’t stop smiling. He’d been longing for her return. Her vocabulary was so much more advanced. She was progressing rapidly considering she’d woken months ago without a soul and without any memories of her past.
Of their past.
His smile faded. If she was advancing, that meant more of her soul had to be growing too. If that was the case, there would be less room for the old Abigail. He needed to find out from Baba how much time he had left before this new soul filled her body and it was too late.
More importantly, he had to know whether the soul inside her was progressing normally or it was becoming twisted and like a monster’s. She didn’t act like a sociopath.
In the cottage, they found Vega with a seat pulled up beside Baba’s rocking chair. She held the old woman’s hand in hers and spoke quietly. Abigail halted in the doorway upon seeing Baba. The muscles in her back tensed under Lucifer’s hand. He didn’t blame her for reacting this way. Her last memories of Baba hadn’t been pleasant.
Vega spoke to her grandmother in Russian, her voice too quiet to hear. Lucifer thought he heard Baba say the word for “ruby” in Russian. Vega possessed a ruby that gave her great knowledge. Perhaps Baba wanted to use it to help with Abigail’s condition. Or for another reason.
Kelsie poured tea into four teacups at the table and rummaged in the cupboard for two more mugs to fill. “I’m afraid we don’t have much in the way of refreshments to offer at the moment. I didn’t make any cookies. And I suspect my cooking isn’t fit for royalty.”
“We wouldn’t expect you to go to such trouble on our behalf. We brought our own food.” Clarissa’s strained smile needled Lucifer.
He couldn’t believe she would insult Kelsie like that. Kelsie was already self-conscious enough about her cooking. Kelsie turned to the cupboard, hiding her hurt expression.
Clarissa leaned toward Kelsie, her tone confidential. “We prefer cookies without the hearts of human children in them.” She seated herself at the table, not deigning to look at Baba.
Kelsie laughed, but she looked to Lucifer uncertainly.
Lucifer clenched his fists. As if he would allow anyone to feed Abigail human children. Clarissa was going to poison Abigail against them.
“Baba doesn’t put the hearts of children in her cookies.” He strode over to the cabinet and selected two glasses from the very top where Kelsie must not have seen them. That was all they had left to pour tea into. “If Baba told you otherwise, she was trying to scare you.”
As he turned back toward the table, he bumped into Abigail, hovering like a puppy right behind him.
“No hearts? Just fingers and toes?” Clarissa smiled through clenched teeth.
He could understand her animosity after what had happened to Abigail. He still had a hard time forgiving Baba. It made it that much harder knowing Isibeal would have died—and possibly her baby too—if Baba hadn’t used Abby’s fingers to sustain her through the pain and bleeding.
“How is Isibeal? And baby Lucille?” He set one glass before Kelsie’s chair and gave himself the other one so their guests could use the nicer china, mismatched as it was.
“We call her Izzy,” Abigail said, her excitement returning as her attention drifted away from Baba.
He smiled in spite of his worries. There wasn’t room for doubt about her soul, troubles of the past, and concerns for the future when Abigail was right in front of him, banishing his worries with her cheerful smile.
Eagerness bubbled out of Abigail as she turned to him. “We gave her a nickname. Mostly that’s because we don’t want anyone from the Verde Court to know about her. She’s a nurse in the nursery so she can spend time with her baby. Sometimes I get to help her. I love the babies because they’re so cute. Especially Clarissa’s babies. And Vega’s boy is so funny. It’s my favorite thing to play with them. Sometimes Izzy gets to come to classes with me because Clarissa wants me to have a babysitter.” She said the word with the revulsion of an eight-year-old who thought she was too old to be a baby.
He wished Abigail could remember when her own daughters had gone through that phase and hated the word.
“I suspect it’s a hard adjustment for Izzy after all the luxuries of court life,” Clarissa said. “But it’s better for her to lay low for a while, at least until King Elric has established diplomacy with the Verde Court and we can broach the matter of her . . . situation.”
Vega turned from quiet conversation with Baba, an eyebrow raised. “Are you going on about our latest mouth to feed?”
Kelsie poured the rest of the tea and made more. Clarissa reached into her little purse, her arm disappearing in the abyss. She set out platters of cookies, pastries, and savory pies she excavated from the bottomless purse. Soon the cottage smelled of rich foods. Lucifer’s belly growled.
The cottage was more crowded with people than it had been in months. Lucifer leaned against the wall, out of the way so that the others could sit and visit.
Abigail stretched out a hand toward him, a question in her eyes. He crouched at her side and took her hand in his. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to sit with you,” an edge of whininess crept into her tone.
He wondered what age she was inside. Eight? Ten? She might even have been thirteen. He couldn’t tell.
He kissed her delicate fingers. “There aren’t enough chairs. After you eat lunch, I’ll sit with you outside.”
“I can sit on your lap like I used to.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to slide off her chair onto his lap.
He nearly fell over as she did so and had to hold on to the table to steady his balance. He lifted her as he stood and seated himself in the chair. She grinned as she sat on his knees and took up her cookie again. He suspected he shouldn’t reward her for being so presumptuous, but at the same time, he wanted someone to reward him for surviving this long without her.
Clarissa’s jaw clenched as she eyed them.
Months ago, when Abigail had been like a baby, she used to crawl into his lap or Kelsie’s with the coordination of an oversized child. He had never felt self-conscious about showing her physical affection or allowing her to sit on him. Now that she was older, and they had an audience, it felt different. This was more like the time Gertrude had unexpectedly sat on his lap in front of Kelsie and Baba, and Vega had suggested they “get a room.”
That false smile on Clarissa’s face told him he was the equivalen
t of the unwanted teenage boy courting a daughter and behaving scandalously.
Clarissa shifted uneasily in her chair. “Abby, why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap?”
“I don’t want to.” Abigail pouted. “I want Lucy.”
“Remember what we talked about,” Clarissa held up a finger, her expression stern. “Today is a special treat. You are supposed to be on your best behavior. If you are a good girl, we will talk about another visit.”
Despite the wisdom of those words, Lucifer tightened his arms around Abigail protectively. Kelsie grimaced at him from across the table. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like Clarissa chastising Abigail.
“Tell us about all the mischief you’re making at home?” Kelsie asked. “I hope you haven’t dropped any spiders down anyone’s dress.”
Abigail giggled. “I only did that to you once.”
“Oh? You remember?” Kelsie grinned.
“It was funny, but not as funny as the tricks I’ve played on people since then,” Abigail said, her enthusiasm contagious. “I have so much to tell you about.”
“I want to know about it all,” Lucifer said. “How did you learn to speak so fast?” He attempted to serve himself a slice of pie, but it was awkward while holding Abigail. He had a sudden respect for adults who managed to eat a full meal while holding a baby.
“Clarissa is a teacher. And Vega—” Abigail’s smile wavered as she glanced at the formidable woman. “Queen Vega has a school. I’ve been in classes learning with the other children. Clarissa spends time with me every day, helping me learn reading and writing. And she hired a tutor. What did you call it? A speech therapist?”
Clarissa nodded. “That is one advantage of being a sovereign—and a school administrator. I can afford to hire anyone the children need to help them with their studies.”
The way Clarissa flaunted her recent status needled under Lucifer’s skin. He chided himself. This wasn’t a competition between him and Clarissa. They both wanted what was best for Abigail. Clarissa could afford governesses and tutors with skills he didn’t possess.
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