Every hackle is raised, but no one disputes his claims. And honestly, as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. We only have one demon strong enough to fight a Seraph. One. And there’s no telling how many angels they’ve dragged to their cause. Lucifer could be a valuable ally, but would he really be on our side? Is anything about him honorable and honest?
Other than the love and loyalty he holds for his brother, of course.
So maybe he is telling the truth. Considering that’s the only person he’s shown to care about, I don’t think he’d do anything to jeopardize Legion’s existence.
Fuck the rest of us though.
“So what do you propose?” Legion questions, his expression anything but receptive.
Lucifer shrugs. “Have your little party. But I want in. One word of advice though…bench the angel.”
“Why?” Adriel frowns, showing her first sign of disapproval.
Lucifer completely ignores her and speaks directly to Legion. “Well, if the Seraph somehow detect her and take her, you’ve screwed yourself out of your insurance policy.”
I swear, I can hear crickets from the other side of the room. Insurance policy? How? And why didn’t that ever cross my mind?
“Oh. She doesn’t know, does she?” Lucifer muses donning a wicked smile. “My bad.”
Adriel looks at Legion; her expression crumpled with hurt. “What is he talking about?”
Legion squints his disdain for Lucifer, yet speaks to Adriel. “Uriel still wants you, meaning he’d be less inclined to strike knowing we have you.”
“And let’s not forget the little matter of your blood,” Lucifer adds. His shit-eating grin is so wide, he looks like the fucking Joker.
Legion releases a little growl of warning, but confirms Lucifer’s claim, shoving the knife embedded in Adriel’s heart in a little deeper. “We have reason to believe that angel blood can be used to heal a wound from the Redeemer. Phenex has been working on a way to synthesize it, so your presence here is necessary.”
“So in other words, dearie, they need it straight from the tap.” Lucifer is diabolical. I know they have history, but damn. This attack seems personal.
I see the pain on Adriel’s face, and I can’t help but feel a little bad for her. Still hate her, but I can’t imagine what she’s thinking right now. She’s only here to act as leverage, plus they need her blood. So maybe…maybe Legion isn’t keeping her around because he still has feelings for her. Maybe her presence is merely necessary for survival.
“Now that everything is out on the table,” Lucifer says, turning to take one of The Watcher’s petite hands, “Irin, I want to thank you for having me. Anything you need from me is yours.” He brings the hand up to his lips and brushes a kiss along her knuckles.
“You’re quite welcome, Lucy. As long as you manage to behave, this should be entertaining.” She snatches her hand back and snaps her fingers. Kairo appears seconds later, looking red-faced and flustered. “Kairo will show you to your room. My staff is at your disposal for whatever you may desire. Enjoy.”
Kairo bows, then looks up at Lucifer through long, black lashes, a seductive smile gracing his lips. Now I understand why he looks so flushed. He wants Lucifer. And judging by the way Lucifer gazes back, unblinking, I’m thinking he isn’t opposed to Kairo warming his bed during his stay here.
And that makes me feel…warm. Stifling hot.
I never thought about Lucifer with men, but now that the idea has been presented, I’m more than a bit curious to know what that might be like. Would he be rough with Kairo, or gentle? Would he worship his body, or demand that Kairo devote himself to please him? Shit. Just the thought of two beautiful men together, sheets twisted at their feet as their naked bodies tangle in ecstasy…I don’t see how I can focus on anything else for the rest of the night.
The Se7en begin to rise and disperse, but Legion seems hesitant to leave, his eyes going to me then to Lucifer. He’s worried. About what, I’m not sure. The cat’s already out of the bag—I know everything. Legion knew more than he let on. He lied to me. And even though what Lucifer did was ten times worse, if it wasn’t for him, I may not ever know the truth. He’s an asshole, but at least he’s somewhat of an honest asshole.
“Eden.” Lucifer is suddenly in front of me, hand extended to help me to my feet.
I quickly glance over at Legion, who stares back unabashedly. I opened my heart and my body to him, and he knew things about me—things he hadn’t planned to disclose. He didn’t want to believe that being with me would affect his judgment because maybe he didn’t care enough or think I was significant enough. I’m not stupid enough to think that Lucifer is any better, but what Legion and I shared…I thought it was special. I thought it was real. Now, I find it was all a lie. I was literally made to be his plaything, something for him to fuck and fondle instead of focusing on the real threat—my father. It’s sick and degrading, yet I let it happen. More than that, I craved that sickness. I dropped to my knees and begged to be degraded over and over again.
I take Lucifer’s hand, ignoring the pang of guilt and shame in my chest. His touch is just as I remembered, and a dozen memories of my time with him flood back to the forefront of my mind. The way he watched me over his wineglass at his many elaborate dinners. How I woke to find him watching me while I slept. How he wasn’t afraid to show his sense of humor when we had breakfast in his suite. And the way I felt in his arms as he twirled me around his ballroom…
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so beautiful in my entire life. The dress and the shoes were gorgeous, yes, but the way he looked at me in them is what had me coasting on a cloud of contentment.
“You’re looking beautiful, as always. Angel blood agrees with you,” he drawls.
“What do you want, Lucifer?” I huff, hating the way his touch makes me feel. Hating the way my body instantly remembers what it was like to have him deep inside of me in Irin’s bathroom.
“Just wanted to extend my congrats. As you know, Nephilim are rare. Seraph Nephilim even more rare. You should consider this an esteemed honor.”
“And should I consider you trying to get me killed an honor too?” I bite back, snatching my hand from his grasp. “Or how about threatening to hurt my sister so you could kidnap me when that plan didn’t work?”
He raises his hands and shrugs. “All’s fair in love and war. And in war, there are casualties, even those that you love. You’ll understand that sooner than you think.” He spies my neck, where a fading bite mark still lingers, and his brows raise. “I see you may already know what I’m talking about.”
I shake my head and look away. Angry tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let him see that he hurt me.
Lucifer hurt me.
I wanted to believe there was something redeemable within him, and there was. Just not where it pertained to me. Silly, stupid girl. What made me think I could change the Devil’s heart? And why did I want to?
“Look, you’re here, and I can’t change that. But do me a favor? Stay the fuck out of my way.”
With that, I turn on my heel and march out of Irin’s quarters without a single glance in Legion’s direction. I don’t stop until I’m in my bedroom, panting, my back pressed to the door. When a knock sounds from the other side, I yelp with a curse.
“Holy shit,” I gasp when I swing open the door to find Niko standing there. He hurriedly enters and shuts it behind him.
“Seriously, if you don’t want to get him worked up, maybe you shouldn’t speak his love language.”
“What?”
“Lucifer,” he answers. “He practically had an instant hard-on after you told him to fuck off. You’re playing right into his sick, twisted game. The best reaction is no reaction, E. He literally thrives off your resistance.”
“So what? I’m so supposed to fawn over him like Kairo? No thanks.” I cringe at the thought of looking like a love-struck puppy for Lucifer. I’d rather pull a Jinn and cut out my own tongue.
“No. You’re supposed to make him believe that no matter what he does or says to you, he can’t affect you. I told you this before when we were Hell. Same rules apply.”
He’s right. Shit. I should have followed Niko’s lead and remained quiet and cold.
“I know,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s just…I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.”
“Well, that won’t do either.” He goes over to the bed and settles down at the foot.
“Why not?” I frown, sidling up beside him.
“Love. Hate. They’re the two strongest emotions one can covet. And to him, they’re both essentially the same. If he can make you feel one, he can make you feel the other just as passionately.”
I flop back on the bed and release a frustrated breath. Niko does the same, resting his head beside mine.
Shit.
I’m so fucked.
The last thing I want to do is work on my light wielding abilities with Adriel, so I put all my energy into weapons training with Cain, who is a little more than surprised at my improved skill at target practice.
“I’m a quick study,” I remark, slipping off my headphones and safety goggles. I set down the Glock. It’s starting to feel good in my hands. Natural.
Cain glances over at the paper target and nods. Headshots, just like he taught me, although I landed a few in the chest. “Can’t argue with that.”
“You think it’s the Nephilim thing? The reason I’m able to pick things up a bit faster than the average person?”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing. It’s an advantage. Use it.”
“Yeah, but I’m not thrilled at who gave me these abilities. All my life, I’ve wanted a father. And then I find out he’s a crazed maniac angel who wants to wipe out mankind?”
Cain shrugs. “Be careful what you wish for.”
After putting away the weapons, we head up to the gym for the rest of my training. Crysis is still on the mend, apparently. Being blasted with holy light, even indirectly, took a lot out of him, and I feel like shit for it. Cain mentioned that a blast like that at close range would have instantly killed a human. I wonder what it would do to a demon. Or even an angel.
A tiny, jealous part is tempted to find out when I spy Adriel sitting on a wooden bench alongside the boxing ring. I dismiss the thought the moment it enters my head. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t set out to hurt females just because they pose a threat to my relationship. Especially when there is no defined relationship. Plus, Legion had no issue being affectionate with me in front of her after my mishap with holy light. And if what Lucifer said is true, Legion’s attachment to her is not romantic. At least on his part, it isn’t. And now that she knows the truth, I doubt she’ll be arranging any more hallway rendezvous.
Still…
I don’t trust her. I know learning from her is necessary to avoid anyone else getting hurt, but we’re not going to be planning any sleepovers or mani/pedi dates anytime soon.
“Good luck. Don’t kill anyone,” Cain snickers with a menacing smirk that highlights his scar. In many ways, the disfigurement is terrifying, but it suits him. It’s actually grown on me. With the muscles, tattoos, and beard he’s started growing out, an unblemished face just wouldn’t fit the whole bad-ass-demon narrative. Plus, I’ve discovered that he has a bit of red in his hair, which totally makes him look even more sinister.
I flip him the bird as he saunters over to the weights, laughing the entire way.
Actually, everyone is here. The Se7en, including Legion. Nikolai, who hasn’t felt the need to set foot in the gym since we arrived because apparently “you can’t perfect perfection.” And Lucifer and Irin. Of course, Niko, Luc, and Irin aren’t donning any activewear nor are they using the equipment. They’re simply watching. Waiting.
They came to see the show.
Sweat beads all over my body. My mouth goes bone dry. I feel sick to my stomach.
Shit, I did not bet on an audience. Not for this.
“Eden.” Adriel stands at my approach.
“Adriel,” I nod and look around, noting all the prying eyes. “They’re all here.”
She tips her head to one side. “They’ve never seen a Nephilim light wielder before. Some have not even seen a full blood light wielder since not all angels are equipped with the gift.”
“And you are.”
She nods. “Yes. As was Legion and Lucifer. They no longer possess light…for obvious reasons.”
“I don’t think I can do it again,” I mutter, feeling self-conscious. “I don’t even know how I did it in the first place.”
“Well, like all gifts, it comes from within.” She touches a hand to her chest. “Imagine it as an intense emotion that’s just too great for your heart to contain.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I seriously doubt whatever made me do that came from my heart.”
“So what was it that you were feeling at the time?”
I go back to that incident. Hard to believe it was only yesterday that I was pummeling the heavy bag, simmering with rage and pain at what Crysis had said about me. And it wasn’t just his words that cut me to my core. It was the fact that part of me knew he was right. I had become stupid and blind when it came to Legion. I accepted any little crumbs that he would offer me because it was better to have a small part of him than nothing at all. And when Crysis threw that in my face to hurt me then tried to make me relive it, I lashed out because I was humiliated and ashamed.
Reading the memories playing across my face, Adriel comments, “He broke your heart.”
I shake my head. “Crysis and I just had a stupid fight. It was nothing.”
“I’m not talking about Crysis.”
Simultaneously, we turn to Legion. His gaze goes wide as if having us both staring at him has stripped him bare. The two women who love him: the mate of his enemy and the daughter of his enemy. I wonder which one of us he considers the bigger mistake.
“Come on,” Adriel says, breaking her stare first. “Let’s get to work.”
We step into the ring, and a quiet hush falls over the room. Fucking vultures. It’s like they’re begging for a fight. Adriel positions me across from her, but not into a fighting stance.
“Hold out your hands, palm side up.” I do as she says. “Take a deep breath. And when you suck in oxygen, let it fill your chest until you feel it may burst. As if your heart is a balloon encased in blood and bone. When you exhale, release the heartache, the pain, the joy. Whatever you’re feeling, channel it, give it life, and let it take flight from your fingertips.”
I lift a brow, feeling utterly silly. Ain’t no damn way white fire is spurting from my fingertips.
Adriel huffs out her irritation. “Fine. Watch me.”
She closes her eyes, sucking in a deep lungful of air. As she slowly releases it, her eyes open, and within them lay pale flames, reflections of the ball of white fire suspended above her palm. It’s glorious, mesmerizing. And if I considered myself religious, I would say it was the light of God. Just a fleck, but there was definitely something divine within that fire.
Our audience looks on with varying shades of amusement and awe. For all her daintiness and grace, Adriel is still one of the most powerful creatures to have ever walked the earth. The white gowns, her long auburn waves, her pale skin…it’s easy to forget that as an angel, she’s a formidable opponent. I just have to wonder, when all is said and done, whose side will she fight for?
“Ok. Your turn,” she says, closing her palm and extinguishing the light.
I look around me, feeling every eye on my back. “I can’t.”
“You can. You have been given a gift, Eden. God does not make mistakes.”
Mistakes. That’s what I’d been told my entire life—that I was a mistake. But for some strange reason, I was created for a purpose. Abuse, starvation, neglect, poverty, abandonment, assault…I had survived them all. And this is why. Nights so cold I should have frozen to death as I curled up in a bal
l on a dirty mattress in a roach-infested shack without heat or electricity. I still woke up each morning—weak, hungry, and shivering, but alive. As if something inside me would not let me give up, would not let me perish. Something I could not see or touch or taste or hear, but I knew it was there.
Adriel.
Even with the knowledge that Uriel had created me to hurt her beloved, she did not allow me to die. Her presence sustained me just enough to keep my heart beating.
I owe it to her to try. I owe it to myself to prove them all wrong. I was not a mistake.
I lift my hands, palm side up, and close my eyes. I think of what it felt like the first time I woke up in Legion’s arms. I felt a sense of safety and comfort I never knew existed before then. And when he touched me, running the callused pads of his fingers over my ribs, I finally knew what it meant to be cherished.
But it was when he was deep inside of me, filling me to the point of bursting, that I tasted euphoria on my tongue. Every stroke was a prayer, every moan was a testimony. I saw God in those moments of complete and utter bliss.
“Um, Eden?”
I open my eyes at the sound of Adriel’s soft voice and gasp. My hands—both hands—are engulfed in white flames. Not a sphere of light like Adriel’s, but something wild, passionate. Something born of an emotion so pure and deep that my knees tremble from the gravity of it.
“Now, try to reshape it. Mold it into something more obtainable.”
“How?”
“Will it so, Eden,” Adriel commands, taking a step forward. “You are in control. It does what you tell it to.”
Deep breath. I plunge back into that memory, conjuring those feelings of pure ecstasy. And I remember what it felt like to have it all snatched away from me. Fear and rage flood my veins like ice water, dousing the fiery passion and replacing it with blazing contempt. They took from me. Stole from me. They stripped me bare and raped me of the tiny kernel of happiness I had managed to retain despite all the ugliness in my life. And now…now I would take it back.
Wicked Ruin (Se7en Sinners Book 3) Page 13