by Jane Kindred
The name, as always, sent a chill down Lucien’s spine. “So there is one, then.”
“Of course there is one. Why on earth do you think I’ve been prolonging my life?”
Lucien had assumed it was the reason anyone would: fear of dying. “I hate to state the obvious.”
“You think it’s vanity? That I’m afraid of looking old?” Edgar shrugged. “I suppose there’s some truth to that. Age means frailty, and I cannot afford frailty. But more than that, my continued longevity means that Madeleine’s payment can be deferred. As Smoks, we deal in souls. Not the least of which are our own.”
Lucien had a sinking feeling he understood. “You’ve bargained your soul.”
“Not mine, Lucien. Yours.”
Chapter 23
The pain in Lucien’s arm intensified. “What do you mean, mine?”
“You know the story. Every seventh generation is required to serve in hell. I found a way to skip a generation—staying alive.”
Lucien wasn’t following. “But according to the family tree, yours is the sixth generation of Smoks since the last to serve.”
Edgar shook his head. “I’ve let you believe I was far older than I am so that you could get used to the idea of being the one to bear the curse. I’m not the first Edgar Smok. That was my father. Nevertheless, my lifespan was extended well beyond the time that my service was to come due, so the duty passed to my offspring. I know it seems callous of me, but you must understand that it was a decision I made many years ago, long before you were born.”
Lucien was the eighth generation. Edgar had cheated, selling Lucien out—selling Lucien’s soul—to avoid the Smok fate.
Everything made sense now. His father’s distance and coldness. Even the way Edgar had let Lucien get away with everything short of murder despite the gulf between them. It hadn’t made sense that Edgar wouldn’t be harder on him given the lack of warmth in their relationship. Lucien had pushed every boundary, trying to find out just how far he could go before Edgar would step in. But he’d only done so when Lucien had started seeing a Marchant descendant.
“You realize my staying alive also benefits you, Lucien.”
Lucien let out a choked laugh. “How the hell does it benefit me?”
“Because this isn’t a ‘pay on receipt of services rendered’ transaction. The bill only becomes payable upon my death. So the longer I live, the longer you can go on about your life. In that respect, we’re both very lucky that Carter Hamilton came along. The Smok family may lose a little power, but a Smok will remain the public face of this company. You’re free to enjoy a long, full life.” Edgar inclined his head. “But only the span of an ordinary human life. That was the deal. So you see, I can’t prolong the inevitable indefinitely. My time runs out when yours does. And vice versa.”
Lucien swiveled away from him. “And what happens, exactly, when the bill comes due? Say I die an old man, seventy years from now. Are you saying there won’t be any consequences until then? No physical effects from the curse in our blood?”
“Do you see any in me?”
Lucien swiveled back reflexively at the question.
“For all intents and purposes, you are fully human, just like the rest of the Smok family. The change comes, as I understand it, once the soul is delivered—which occurs without it having to leave the body. A sort of transmogrification.”
“You’re saying I’m going to turn into some sort of monster on my deathbed and get sucked down into hell.”
Edgar frowned. “You always see the worst in everything. I hardly think monster is the preferred term. As far as I know, you won’t look any different. You’ll simply be different. Most likely, youthfully restored. I expect you’ll look much as you do now.”
“Only I’ll be a demon reigning in hell.”
Edgar had on one of those smiles again. “Better than serving in heaven, as the saying goes.”
“And yet you’ve spent decades making sure you never had to.”
“Naturally, you make me out to be the monster. I’ve been the villain of your entire life. You have no idea of the sacrifices I’ve made for you. Am still making for you.” Edgar waved his hand in the air in irritation, as if he couldn’t articulate what he wanted to say. Perhaps his mind really was going. “That’s enough. Go home.”
Lucien had plenty to think about as he left the building. If Edgar was right about the terms of the Smok legacy, it could change everything. If shifting into something inhuman no longer loomed on the horizon, the threat of the loss of Smok Biotech was meaningless. What he had to consider was whether he could survive without the rest of what the Smok empire offered: power, money, a good life—everything he had access to now. He still had hopes of doing some good with that power, of changing how Smok operated and putting a stop to its complicity in allowing evil to prosper and proliferate. He was doubtful that anything would change with Lucy at the helm. She was too pragmatic.
There was also the fact that his fate, like Edgar’s, was only postponed. But it was hard to see something that was so many years away as the looming threat he’d always feared. Would defying Edgar affect that eventuality in any way? Could he even trust anything his father said? After all, Edgar had sold Lucien’s soul to the devil.
Having left the boardroom with an increasing feeling of hope, he was already cycling back toward pessimism and mistrust. Maybe he should have Fran give him some meds.
He was so deep in the vicious circle in his head when he reached the parking lot that he stepped off the curb without looking. A horn blared, wheels screeching, and Lucien found himself just centimeters away from the hood of a silver hybrid. Angry at himself, he directed the anger at the car and slammed his palm on the hood, ready to cuss out the driver.
Through the windshield, Theia’s wide gray eyes stared at him in disbelief. Both of them froze for a moment before Theia’s shocked expression turned dark.
She lowered the window and leaned out. “Why don’t you look where you’re going?”
Lucien took his hand off the hood and stood in front of the car, realizing how much better he felt just being yelled at by Theia—having any interaction with Theia. “I don’t know. I think I’m probably an idiot.”
“You got that right.”
The driver of the car behind Theia honked aggressively.
Theia glared. “Are you going to move or just stand there being an idiot?”
“Can I get in the car and be an idiot?”
Her mouth twitched, resisting a smile. “Depends on how idiotic you plan to be.”
Lucien smiled. “I never plan. That’s the genius of my idiocy.”
The horn honked again, longer this time, to let them know the irked driver meant business and would honk again, by golly.
Theia’s expression didn’t change, but the lock on the passenger door of her car clicked open. Lucien wasted no time in taking her up on the tacit invitation.
He slipped in and closed the door. “Thanks for not running me down.”
“It was touch-and-go there for a minute.” Theia pulled out onto the main drive. “It’s going to be awkward running into each other on campus like this. Although Lucy said she might fix that for me by making sure I got kicked out of my graduate program if I didn’t leave you alone.”
“She what? When did she say that?”
“Yesterday, when I tried to report for my first day of work.”
Lucien ran his hand through his hair. “Dammit. I’m so sorry. I mean, not about Lucy—although that, too—but about me. About all of this. It just happened so suddenly, and I didn’t know what to do.”
Theia glanced at him. “And do you know what to do now?”
“Honestly?” Lucien sighed, wishing he could give her the answer she deserved, but he hadn’t yet worked it all out in his head. There was still the issue of the Lilith blood. He wasn�
�t sure if that was separate from the legacy. He shook his head. “No. But I know that I hate not being with you.”
Theia kept her eyes on the road. “Well, that’s something, I guess. So where am I driving you? I assume you had a car in the parking lot.”
Lucien shrugged. “I can get another one.”
Theia laughed, though not humorously. “Wow. Your life is something else.”
“It is, isn’t it? Where were you heading?”
“Me? I just finished my last final and was on my way home. To my place, I mean. My apartment here in Flagstaff.”
“I haven’t seen your place.”
Theia threw him an annoyed look, the point of her bob swinging against her cheek with the quick movement of her head. “Well, yeah. Shortest relationship ever. Even for me.” The word relationship made the little blip of hope attempt a comeback.
“There are some things I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Things like Susie the siren?”
“Polly the—” Lucien stopped himself, reddening. “I’m not seeing Polly. She’s not a factor in this.”
“And what would ‘this’ be?”
“This would be me trying to figure out some very complicated things about who I am. And who you are.”
Theia glanced over again and nearly rammed the car in front of her as it stopped when the light changed. She hit the brakes forcefully. “Who I am?”
“The Lilith blood.”
“I thought we’d already discussed that. I thought you were okay with it.”
“That was based on the information I had at the time. I have more now.”
“So you want me to drive you to my home so you can tell me what else you don’t like about me in my own personal space. I don’t think so.”
Lucien reached for her hand on the steering wheel, and she flinched but didn’t pull it away. He felt a million times stronger, a million times surer of himself, at the touch of her skin.
“I want to figure us out. If you’ll give me a chance. I can’t promise where the conversation will end up, but I think we deserve to have it. We don’t have to go to your place, if it makes you uncomfortable, but I’d like to talk to you somewhere private. We could just sit in the car, I guess.”
Theia went through the intersection. “I have gourmet doughnuts at home. I think we might need them.”
* * *
What she’d dreamed about and feared, her worries about the dark prince—everything Lucien told her about the Smok legacy while she nervous-ate three artisanal doughnuts confirmed her suspicions that it was all coming to pass. He was the one. And fate had brought them together, as surely as it had Phoebe and Rafe, Ione and Dev, Rhea and Leo. She’d just kind of hoped her fate wasn’t really going to be this dark.
Theia leaned her head against her fist with her elbow propped on the back of the couch, trying to digest Lucien’s words along with the doughnuts. “So according to your father, you won’t descend to hell for sixty or seventy years.”
“Barring some kind of accident or disease. It was the first time he spoke to me about any of this, and given his ulterior motive in staying alive as long as he can, I have no reason to disbelieve him.”
“And Carter is going to help him do that.”
“Apparently, he has some secret to the fountain of youth.”
“Yeah, it’s called feeding on the life energy of other people. How do you know he isn’t planning to feed on yours?”
“That would be detrimental to Edgar’s agenda. He’s not going to do anything that would shorten my life.” Lucien smiled ruefully. “For the first time, my father is actually rooting for me to succeed at something.”
Theia returned the smile, but Carter’s involvement was worrisome. He certainly wasn’t doing anything out of the goodness of his heart. She was pretty sure he didn’t have one. Maybe the secret to his longevity was that he’d had his heart removed and kept in a crypt somewhere, magically preserved—and magically preserving him.
“So what happens if you don’t honor your father’s wishes? Does that change things?”
Lucien breathed in deeply and exhaled. “I’m not sure. Given everything he told me, I don’t see how it could. Except for one possible unintended consequence.”
There was always an unintended consequence. “Which is?”
“It’s the possibility that completely aside from Edgar’s manipulation of the legacy, some other factor would trigger it.” Lucien looked at her pointedly. “You.”
“Me?” Before the protest was even out of her mouth, the connection became obvious. “You mean my blood.”
“The theory is that it’s what drew us together. That’s why I tried to break it off with you so completely and so suddenly, without having the decency to tell you what was happening. I’m not proud to admit this, but I was scared. I was afraid that if I saw you again to tell you about Edgar’s ultimatum, to try to explain to you that he’d forced my hand because of the anti-lycanthropy research, that you’d seduce me.”
Theia couldn’t help the surprised titter of laughter. “Seduce you? I’ve never seduced anyone in my life.”
Lucien smiled. “But you have.” He reached for her hand and wove their fingers together. “Everything about you seduces me every time I see you. You seduced me from all the way across the room that first moment at the reception.”
“By choking on a grape.”
Lucien shook his head, still smiling. “My God, woman. I’ve never seen anyone choke on a grape so seductively in my life.”
Now she was laughing out loud. He stopped her with a kiss that, once again, took her breath away. Theia melted into him, moaning softly at the connection she’d somehow managed to convince herself wasn’t real. It lent credence to the idea that it could be the influence of the demon strain in her blood, called home by Madeleine’s curse—but if it was, more power to it. Something that felt this right couldn’t be bad. Except...
Theia let out another moan, this time in frustration, and pushed herself away from the firm plane of his chest.
Lucien’s strikingly pale eyes searched hers. “What’s wrong?”
“I want this—you have no idea how much—”
“I think I have some idea.” He dipped his head toward her.
She put her fingers against his lips as he tried to move in close again. “But I don’t want to turn you into something you don’t want to become.” She shrugged helplessly and let her fingers fall.
Lucien’s brow furrowed. “So now the thing we’re afraid is drawing us together is going to be the thing that keeps us apart?”
“We have to think this through. We have to be sure about what we want.”
“I don’t want to think anymore. I’m tired of thinking. I want you.”
“But doesn’t that back up your theory? You came over here conflicted, depressed, wanting to tell me why this wasn’t going to work—” She stopped midsentence and glared at the insistent shake of his head. “I could tell that was what you were thinking, Lucien. Don’t deny it. I could feel it.”
Lucien let go of her hand and launched himself off the couch with a one-armed shove. “So now I’m just some stupid pawn who doesn’t know his own mind. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just want us both to be clear about what we’re doing, why we’re doing it and whether we’re prepared to accept what might happen.” She fixed him with an unflinching gaze. “Are you?”
Lucien clenched his fist in the hair at his forehead. “How can I know that, Theia? How can anyone know they’re not going to die tomorrow? What I know is that I feel like my guts have been ripped out when I’m not with you.” He gave her a helpless little attempt at a smile. “I’m not prepared to go through life without my guts. Don’t make me.”
Theia rose and wrapped her arms around his neck,
and Lucien unclenched his fist and slid his good arm around her waist. Their bodies fit together like a set. His feelings for her were powerful and real—so strong that she had to make a conscious effort to separate them from her own. This wasn’t about blood for either of them.
“If it’s what you want, Lucien...” She took a breath of certainty. “It’s what I want.”
He bent to kiss her again, but something vibrated between them.
Lucien laughed. “That’s not a phone in my pocket, I’m just happy to see you.” He retrieved the offending device. “Let me just turn off...”
Watching the swiftness with which Lucien’s smile dropped away felt like stepping off the sea floor in the shallows into a bottomless drop.
She withdrew her arms. “What’s wrong?”
“My father... Lucy found him unresponsive on the floor of the boardroom. He’s in the hospital.”
Chapter 24
Lucien was quiet as they drove to the hospital. Lucy was already there, hovering in the waiting room as they stepped off the elevator.
She threw Theia the side eye as she hugged her brother. “What’s she doing here?”
“I was with her when you called.”
“Well, that didn’t take long. Did you walk straight out of the boardroom into her car?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Convenient, then, that Edgar’s unconscious and can’t disown you.”
Lucien stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “Watch yourself, Lucy. This has nothing to do with Theia.”
“Then I repeat, what is she doing here?” Lucy jerked her arm out of Lucien’s grasp as he started to answer. “It was a rhetorical question, asshole.” She paced away from them, facing the doors to the ICU.
Theia spoke quietly to Lucien. “Do you want me to go?”
“No. No, please stay. I need you here.” He took Theia’s hand, and Lucy made a derisive noise as she glanced over. “How did this happen?” he asked her. “Do the doctors know anything?”
Lucy sighed and folded her arms but didn’t turn. “They think he’s had a stroke. They said he has an unusual amount of plaque buildup in his arteries for his age.” She glanced at Lucien. “Of course, I didn’t tell them...” Her voice trailed off as she eyed Theia once more.