“I probably would too,” I say with a shrug. “I mean, they’re demons after all.”
“I trust things have been quiet here as well,” Julian asks, curiously eyeing the mattress on the ground. “What happened to your room?”
“Nothing,” I tell him. “We wanted to sleep by the fire. It’s romantic and will be warm since the house is currently freezing.”
He nods, not really understanding why. “Fires are warm.”
“You catch on fast,” Lucas says, and I give him a pointed look.
“Do you want to stay the night?” I ask Julian, ignoring Lucas’s annoyed glare. He likes having the house to ourselves, and while I do too, Julian is always invited.
“I cannot,” he tells me and reaches into the pocket of the leather jacket he’s wearing. He took my advice to heart, it seems, to dress for the weather so he doesn’t raise suspicions of humans. It’s cold out now, and humans wear coats. “This is from your father.” He extends his hand, holding out a piece of folded paper.
My heart leaps in my chest and I eagerly unfold the paper. It’s blank. I flip it over and then hold it up to the light.
“I don’t get it,” I say slowly. “There’s nothing written on it. Is there some sort of code or spell?”
Julian shakes his head. “All he said was you would see when the time was right. He’s been charged to lead the search for Lucifer. We were only able to meet for a moment before he had to leave.”
I carefully fold the paper back up and go over to the fireplace, putting it behind the framed photo of my mother on the mantel. At least Lucifer talks to me and doesn’t send cryptic messages…if you can even consider a blank piece of paper cryptic. It’s fucking annoying more than anything else. He cares about you. Really? He’d be here if he could, but he doesn’t want to risk it. Even Lucifer found a loophole and he’s the one I’ve been warned about my whole fucking life.
“Has anyone gotten close to finding Lucifer?” I ask, secretly hoping no one has.
“No. He’s quite good at evading us.”
Lucas adds another log to the fire, bringing the small fire to a nice roaring blaze. Light and warmth fill the room.
“What’s going to happen when they do find him?” I ask apprehensively. Part of me doesn’t want to know, though I’m sure it involves throwing him back into Hell and slamming the door.
“What always happens,” Julian tells me. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”
“Kind of.” I close my eyes and let out a breath. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. But Lucifer has been more involved than Michael has, and yes, I know Michael has more at stake and wants to keep me undetected.” I stop myself before I say something I regret and let out a sigh. “Thank you for bringing…whatever that was.”
“I am sorry. I wish I knew what it meant as well.”
“Don’t feel bad,” I tell him and wave my hand in the air. “Don’t shoot the messenger, right?” I push my hair back and yawn. “When will you be back next?”
“I do not know.”
“Thanksgiving is only a few weeks away. We should be moved into the new house by then and I know you don’t eat, but I’d love if you could come and just hang out.”
Julian smiles. “I’d very much like that. I will do everything I can to be there.”
“Good.” I step forward and give him a hug, knowing he’s going to disappear in a rustle of feathers just a moment later.
He does.
“Are you all right, my love?” Lucas takes me in his arm and pulls me down onto the mattress.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, letting out a long breath. “I don’t get the blank paper, and I’ll probably be checking for hidden messages nonstop, but…really. I’m fine.”
Lucas nods, nuzzling his head against my neck. My eyes are heavy and it’s so nice lying here by the fire. My familiars are all stretched out on the couch, and Scarlet takes up the entire loveseat, which has been pushed back against the wall to make room for the mattress on the floor.
“I need to shower,” I say lazily, raking my fingers through Lucas’s hair. “And you need to too.”
“Yes, and showering together is the responsible thing to do.”
“Right.” I nod. “It saves water.”
Lucas kisses me and gets to his feet, holding out a hand to help me up. No surprise, we have sex in the shower and the water is cold by the time we’re out. I eat the rest of my leftover pasta, brush my teeth, and fall asleep in Lucas’s arms, snuggled and warm in front of the open fire.
I wake up right around sunrise, needing to use the bathroom. Lucas is asleep, looking dead since his chest doesn’t rise and fall and he’s lying perfectly still. The fire is just smoldering ash now and my familiars and Scarlet are all on the couch together.
Slowly, I move off the mattress so I don’t wake Lucas, and go upstairs to pee. I wash my face and get dressed, putting on black leggings and a long-sleeved black dress with a scoop neckline that shows off my cleavage. I add the stars-and-moon necklace Lucas got for me, and the simple silver bracelet that once belonged to my mother. I magically curl my hair in just seconds, and run my fingers through the curls to loosen them.
“Morning,” I say, seeing Lucas sit up as I pass the living room.
“Good morning, my love.” He speeds over and kisses me. “Have you been up long?”
“No, only five minutes or so. I had to pee. And now I’m hungry.”
“What do you want for breakfast?”
“The rest of my leftovers from last night.”
“Human food is unappetizing enough,” Lucas starts. “But leftovers in a Styrofoam container are plain disgusting.”
“I recently learned some countries don’t even let you take leftovers home because it could make you sick if you don’t store it properly.”
“Gross.”
“I’ll take my chances.” We go into the kitchen together and I plug in the coffee pot, knowing I’m gonna need a caffeine pick-me-up later.
“The head of the vampire contractors called last night after you were asleep,” Lucas says, sitting next to me at the small island counter. “They completed the last of the upstairs bathroom renovations, and it is possible to route pipes to the third story if you want a small half-bathroom up there.”
“Where would it go again?”
“There’s a closet to the left when you walk up the stairs,” Lucas reminds me. “It would go there. You’re the one who will use it.”
“It might be handy to have a bathroom up there. How long will it take to put it in?”
“About a week. Faster if we don’t have to special order any material.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to order anything fancy. I’m good with whatever we can get locally. And a week isn’t bad.”
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not. And we can start moving some of our possessions over now. I’ve already contacted a moving company to come this afternoon and load up a truck full of your storage bins. They’ll take them into the basement of the new house for us.”
“A moving company?” I raise my eyebrows. “To go a mile down the road?”
“They’ll be able to load up the truck in the daylight,” Lucas says, and I feel a twinge of guilt. Things feel almost normal while we’re in the house together, sitting in the light of day at the kitchen island.
It’s easy to forget we’re far from normal, and Lucas is housebound during the day. For now. I’m still not ready to accept the fact that I can’t figure out a way to let him day walk.
“I will bring the bins up into the foyer. The movers will be here at two PM to put everything into the truck. I will have them take my stuff from the guest room as well. Would you like to meet with the interior designer tomorrow? She’s free.”
I take another bite of pasta and nod enthusiastically. It’s exciting to move forward with the new house and go all out shopping and decorating. It’s our house, and everything for it has been done together. We live together, but this house ver
y much feels like mine. Yet it’s a little bittersweet to leave.
Not selling helps, and Betty will be over the moon when I tell her she’ll be able to move in by the end of the month. I’m leaving most of the furniture here—assuming she wants it, which reminds me that I should text her and go over things so I can make arrangements to have a charity company come and pick up what Betty doesn’t want.
Lucas and I spend the rest of the day packing and sorting, and I never realized how much stuff I own until it came time to box it all up and carry it into the foyer. We go to the new house after sunset, double-checking things were moved where they were supposed to. Some of our new furniture we ordered a while ago will be arriving this week, and I’m stupid excited for the white barstools for the large kitchen island.
They were crazy expensive, something I’d never even give a second look to before. I’m going to put a towel down on the seat before I go to eat out of fear of staining them.
“You’re good with me putting up Christmas decorations like as soon as we’re in, right?” I ask Lucas, stopping at the top of the stairs overlooking the foyer. It’s two stories tall and is perfect for a fifteen-foot Christmas tree.
“It’s the first week of November,” he deadpans.
“So, you’re saying I better get a move on, then, right?”
“Wait until Thanksgiving?”
“The day before?” I ask, batting my eyelashes. “But for real, I’d like to have the house all done up before everyone comes over for Thanksgiving.”
Lucas narrows his eyes. “You want to decorate the house for Christmas before your friends and family come over for Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you just wait?”
“I get impatient, and it takes me hours to get everything up. I want to enjoy it as long as I can. Last year my tree went up on November sixteenth. It was a record for me. Usually I do wait until a few days before Thanksgiving, but it was a, ah, stressful month.”
Lucas moves behind me, arms snaking around my waist. Christmas is a weird reprieve for me, and would probably confuse the hell out of therapists. I was treated like shit and it all came to a screeching, fake-as-fuck halt when the tree went up in my childhood home. The house was full of guests and reporters, and we had to play the part of a big happy family.
That sense of safety never went away, and the more decorations I put up, the stronger that feeling is. I probably should seek professional help at some point, but not until I’m drowning in tinsel and gingerbread.
“I had a company put Christmas lights on the house in Lincoln Park last year,” Lucas tells me. “Only because Eliza insisted, we blend in with the rest of the street. It was the first time I decorated for a holiday.”
“Ever?” I ask incredulously. “How can you have lived for over a thousand years and never once wanted to decorate for a holiday?”
“Thanksgiving has no appeal.”
“That one I get, since it’s all about food. But Christmas?”
“I didn’t believe in angels, demons, or God until recently. And I’ve always known the truth about Santa.”
“But Halloween? How can you be a vampire and not like Halloween?”
“It’s too commercialized.”
“Those are pretty much the only three I celebrate.” I turn around and hook my hands around his neck. “And definitely the only ones I decorate for, though I do have apothecary jars I like to fill with pink candy in February for Valentine’s Day.”
“If decorating for holidays makes you happy, then we’re going to decorate for every fucking holiday there is.” Lucas’s large hands slide down my waist.
“I’ve always thought National Wine Day should be a major holiday.”
“Speaking of wine, I have a surprise for you.”
“I can’t drink, remember?”
“I know,” he says. “But you will be able to again eventually.” Taking my hand, he leads me down the grand staircase and into the basement. All of my holiday decor bins as well as a few other boxes full of stuff I’m not able to part with are to the right of the stairs, pushed up against a brick wall for the time being.
This basement, like many basements of houses this age, is dark and cavernous. The ceiling is surprisingly tall, and if we ever wanted to finish a room or two down here, we could. The house has more than enough space, and using the basement for storage is perfect. The basement is pretty damn cool, actually, and is sectioned off in little rooms. A few have neat brick arches, details you just don’t see in new houses anymore.
“Close your eyes,” Lucas tells me and takes my hand, leading me forward. I hear him open a door, and he guides me a few more feet forward. “Okay, you can look now.”
I gasp, hands going to my mouth, when I open my room. “A wine cellar!” The arched doorway has been fitted with custom wooden doors, and the walls are lined with dark oak shelves, ready to house hundreds of bottles of wine. A table and chairs are set up in the middle of the room, and the whole thing has a gothic feel. “Lucas!” I tear my eyes away from the walls and look at my husband, getting all teary. “Thank you,” I squeak out before I start crying.
“Every mansion needs its own wine cellar.”
“I have to show this off,” I laugh and take pictures to send to Kristy, Nicole, and Naomi. “And now I cannot wait to start filling these shelves.” I look at Lucas, knowing and not caring that I have a goony smile on my face.
“You can’t say I’m cheap now.”
Laughing, I stand on my toes to kiss him. “No, I can’t. Though the real test will come when it’s time for me to start filling these shelves.”
“Start now,” he says. “Have whatever you want shipped from the vineyard. You can’t drink it now, but we both know you’ll want to show this room off to your friends on Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, for sure.”
He takes my hand and we walk out of the basement. We spend a moment chatting with the workers, getting another progress update. Everything has been running along smoothly now that the main issues have been addressed. A few windows will need to be replaced if we want the house to be energy efficient, but it’s nothing major.
“Want to go out tonight?” I ask, taking a big step down from the porch to the ground. The stairs haven’t been replaced yet.
“Are you tired?”
“It’s not that late. We could drive to Newport and see a movie. I can’t remember the last time I actually went to a theater and watched a movie, but now movie theater popcorn sounds so good. With extra butter of cour—” I stop short, getting a sharp pain in the center of my forehead.
My hand flies to my head and I double over, grunting from the pain. Lucas grabs me, not sure what to do.
“What’s wrong?”
A sick feeling twists in my stomach, and the pain in my head intensifies, like someone is jamming a railroad spike right between my eyes. My ears ring, so loud it drowns out whatever Lucas is asking me. Dizziness crashed down on me, and if it wasn’t for Lucas holding onto my shoulder, I would have fallen over.
The pain in my head starts to dissipate and I straighten up. The hurt is fading but something else presses down on me. I gasp when I look up, and Lucas follows my gaze, turning to see what startled me.
A man, wearing a long brown robe and a golden crown on his head, steps forward from the shadows. His eyes are black as coal, and his skin is silky pale. His eyes meet mine and his thin lips curl up into a smile.
Bael.
Chapter 30
“Go back inside,” Lucas tells me, fangs coming down. He steps in front of me, ready to charge at Bael.
“Wait,” I pant, pushing my shoulders back. I hold out my hand, summoning an energy ball. It glows bright blue, sizzling and popping with magic. Bael tips his head, looking at the energy ball curiously. I bring my arm back and throw it, and it whizzes right through Bael, landing in the grass behind him. “He’s not really there.”
Though that’s not necessary a good thing. The last ti
me Bael was able to project himself down to earth, he had powers, powers strong enough to get past my warding and nearly kill us all. He knows I’m a Nephilim, and specifically the daughter of an archangel. His whole attack on us weeks back was a set-up to see what kind of power I’m packing.
For only archangel blood can be invoked and used to kill demons.
And now we know his plan was to use me, to force me to be his demon bride and storm the gates of Hell with me by his side, bowing down and kissing his feet when he finally sits on the throne. I conjure another energy ball and grit my teeth.
Not today, asshole.
The celestial blue ball explodes into fire, swirling around in an invisible sphere. Bael’s eyes widen and his projection inches forward. He’s not afraid, but is looking at me hungrily. I send the fireball flying forward. Like the energy ball, it goes right through him, but this time it hits his crown, pushing it back just an inch. Bael reaches up, and the shock on his face is obvious.
He wasn’t expecting me to be able to touch him, and to be honest, I wasn’t either. He pulls his robes forward and disappears into the night.
“The fuck?” I pant and Lucas takes both my hands. “He’s back? How is that possible?”
Lucas looks at me for a few seconds, needing to make sure I’m okay, that there were no repercussions from doing whatever the hell I just did. “Call for Julian,” he tells me, and I nod. I take my hands from his and bring them together.
Julian? I really need you right now. Please, if you can hear me, come here.
My lips part and I look around the yard, waiting to feel that shift in energy that always comes just seconds before Julian appears.
“Bael was using Ruth to break him out of a demonic prison,” Lucas starts. “That didn’t pan out, but it would make sense for him to try again. He knows you’re half archangel, and if he somehow heard Lucifer is not sitting on the throne, he’ll see it as an opportunity to take over without having to fight the devil.”
“You’re right,” I say as his words hit me. The demons were scheming to take over Hell even with Lucifer there, but without him…it’s one less obstacle to jump over. Time is of the essence, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
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