by Kim Faulks
I’d bring all my power into play, and I’d find him…no matter how far he ran.
I shoved through the front doors and left the building behind. The police report slapped against my hand with the breeze as I made for my car. My fingers trembled as I hit the button and yanked the handle.
One pale-yellow butterfly floated in front of my face and landed on the top of my car. But then it was gone again, whisked away by the wind.
The memory of the swarm of butterflies stayed with me, and that feeling of someone…somewhere listening to my plea.
The shake in my hand stilled as I pulled the door open and slid inside. Kill him…don’t kill him. Hate him…love him. Inside, I was reeling. The report stuck to my fingers until, with a shake, it floated to the passenger’s seat. I gripped the wheel…and stared through the windshield.
The past held me prisoner…just like it had my entire life, and I was done…I was so fucking done. I reached into my pocket and pulled the journal free. The power was there, burning through my mind with her unspoken words.
I swiped my eyes with the back of my hand and opened the pages…
September
He’s happy. He say’s he’s happy, but it’s been a week now, and he refuses to talk about the baby, and changes every damn conversation when I bring it up.
I can see it in his eyes, he doesn’t want this baby, and now I’m left feeling pissed off and alone. What the hell do I do now? And to make matters worse, ‘work’ apparently needs him to stay back, as if that’s not a damn coincidence.
We were so happy, weren’t we?
So why does that have to change?
I skimmed the next page…and the next…she left blank pages…no, not blank. I ran my fingers along the paper and felt the marks where the paper shriveled and curled—in perfect drops.
They were tears. She left them because she was crying.
And any normal human might never have done something like that. But my mom was a natural-born witch, even if she didn’t know it yet.
And her tears had power…
That power bled into the pages and mingled with her words…and even as I turned to find the next entry, I could feel that power turning hungry and feral—like a wolf backed into a corner.
October
Another late night and I’m in bed alone. So, this has become our thing now…this is what we do…
Inky shadows clung to the edges of my vision. The city street in front of me dimmed. I clenched my grip around the wheel as the diary came to life.
The soft bedside lamp was on, throwing a faded gloom across her face. Even with dark circles under her eyes and a haunted stare, she was beautiful—so very beautiful.
The heavy thud of the front door closing cracked through the apartment. I wrenched my gaze to the glowing numbers on the clock beside her, just as she did.
Three a.m.
Three a.m and the selfish sonofabitch didn’t care if the mother of his child was sleeping. Heavy footsteps echoed along the hall, getting closer.
“Stephanie!” He roared. “Get out here…now!”
I caught her flinch, and then movement as she slowly dragged her knees higher.
“Mom,” I murmured. The shadows had a reason now…and not just to mask the dull fucking decor. They seemed to swirl around her, clinging to her hand as she reached for the comforter.
“There you are.”
My heart clenched with the savage tone. I jerked my focus toward the doorway as he stumbled into the room.
Just human…I tried to comfort myself with the words as this stranger stepped closer. Dark eyes sparkled, filled with the kind of hunger that made your skin crawl.
There was a shuffle to his step as he skirted the foot of the bed. I scanned his body and then those cold, unflinching eyes as my mom shook her head and snarled.
“Go to sleep, Jay. You’re drunk.”
His top lip curled, hate flared like a shooting star in his frigid gaze. He watched her like a predator as she climbed from the bed and headed toward him.
I dropped my gaze and skimmed her body. She was so small and thin, barely even a tiny bulge in her belly. I caught the movement as his gaze followed mine.
His lips parted, his words were savage and cruel. “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do. You don’t control me, bitch.”
There was a shake to my Mom’s head. “Now you’re just being cruel. I don’t want to fight you, Jay. I’m tired, you’re tired. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”
But sleep was the last thing that lingered in his eyes as he took a step and closed the distance. “You think lying to me, and manipulating me will work?”
She flinched with the words, and slowly shook her head. “I never thought that. Please, Jay. I’m tired and you stink. Where were you tonight? Hell, where do you go every night?”
“None of your fucking business, that’s where. He understands me…he talks to me, tells me all about women like you.”
“Who?” She snarled, anger flaring in her eyes. She was the one who closed the distance this time. She was the one who fought for control. “Who’s filling your head with lies? Who’s using you?”
“You don’t understand. He’s powerful, far more powerful than your tiny human mind could fathom.”
I stilled, heart hammering. The way he said it…the way he spoke—it’s as if he knew about us…
The energy seemed to change. Shadows grew darker, there was a presence…a cold, hungry presence as my mom’s anger spilled free. “Who is it, Jay? Who’s lying to you? I want a name. Give me a goddamn name!”
He was a blur as he cocked his hand and lunged. The slap was a gunshot through my head. I jerked in the driver’s seat and drove my nails into the molding of the steering wheel.
My mom stumbled backwards and lifted a hand to her cheek. There was a moment of stunned surprise…a moment where the vision wavered with fear.
“You want to know his name?” The piece of shit stared at her with the cold, unflinching stare of a killer. “The unseelie. That’s what he called himself. Now you can run off to mommy and tell her I’m finally the asshole she always thought I was.”
Her sob was a punch to my chest. She clutched her cheek and shoved past him.
“Run now, little Stephanie,” he called behind her as she scurried along the hall. “Run…run…run…but you best be careful, there’s bigger monsters out there than I am.”
The unseelie…
I clawed myself out of the dream long enough to turn my head and stare at the police record, before I was drawn back in.
Her footsteps echoed along the hall, timed with the heavy thud inside my chest, and I followed.
She stopped at a pile of folded clothes on the counter, yanked on slacks and a shirt. It was the first time I saw her hands tremble, the first time I saw her sway on her feet. But then she grabbed a coat and her bag and barreled through the front door.
I glanced over my shoulder at the room. The journal was back there…but then I was pulled toward the front of the house like an out-of-body experience, tethered to the one woman I’d waited my entire life to see.
The vision blurred. Her headlights glared, bouncing off passing cars as she drove. I’d missed pieces, missed her starting the engine, missed her backing out of the drive.
And I never wanted to miss a second of this.
I never wanted to look away, in case she just disappeared. Her soft sobs were haunting, tears glistened in the oncoming lights. I wanted to reach for her, wanted to brush my fingers along her cheeks.
I’d kill him…father or not, I’d find the wife-beating sonofabitch, and exact a little payback of the Payne-family kind.
Was this why Alma didn’t want me involved?
Because I’d finally know the kind of man my father really was?
Horns blared, wrenching me from the thought. My mom jerked the wheel and pulled the car alongside the curb. She lifted her gaze to the rear-view mirror and stared. Even in the dark, I saw the glowing red outl
ine of his hand.
She pressed her fingers carefully to her cheek and winced.
Fucking bastard…fucking piece of shit. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to stab him in the fucking eyes…I wanted to bind him and wrap him in the power of my blood and take him to a nice quiet corner in Hell.
She dropped her hand and then her gaze. In the distance, bright lights shone from an all-night diner like a beacon in the dark.
She sniffed, swiped her nose with the back of her hand, and then shoved open the car door. I followed her like a ghost, as she pulled her collar high and started walking.
The glass door swung open and then closed as early morning workers entered, as some left. Steam wafted into the bitter fall air. One guy glanced her way and kept on walking.
She stopped at the first step as the door opened again, and a young woman dressed in a business suit stepped out. She glanced at my mom and held the door open.
It was all she needed, taking one step and murmuring, “thank you.”
I could almost smell the freshly ground coffee beans, almost smell the heady aroma as the machine hissed and roared. Two young waiters worked the register. One glanced up as mom entered.
The place was sparkling, single seats sat alongside the wall with today’s newspaper in front. The other side of the diner was filled with shiny booths, three already taken, leaving only one vacant.
Others moved aside as she covered her face with her hand and stepped up to the counter…just coffee please…in a mug.
The waiter punched the buttons on the register and took her money. There was a hiss of a machine, and a harsh bark of laugher somewhere along the single seats. She flinched with the sound, turning to face the counter.
I’d never seen someone look so haunted, so alone…and it killed me to see someone I’d loved my entire life hurting. Seconds slipped away as customers came and left around her.
I barely saw them…I barely saw anyone, as the waiter handed another order over the counter, and then reached for hers. “Here you go, ma’am.”
Downcast eyes lifted to meet his. She tried to force a smile as she grabbed the mug and turned toward the empty booth.
She wasn’t even looking, only staring at the steam that drifted up from the cup as she slid into the booth on one side…and someone else slid into the booth on the other.
“Oh dear…I’m so sorry.”
And that voice filled with midnight and seduction assaulted my ears.
My heart hammered as I jerked my gaze high.
It was him…it was him.
She stared…stunned, as a younger version of the man I’d come to love gave a sheepish smile and gripped the edge of the table.
He glanced over his shoulder at the other filled booths and murmured, “Do you mind?”
She glanced at the door. I could almost hear the frantic voice in her head…run…run…run…
“Forgive me,” he murmured so damn perfectly, and started to rise.
“No,” she barked, drawing attention in the crowded place. “It’s fine, please. It’s totally fine.”
He looked at her then, really looked at her. Sparkling dark eyes skimming her face and settling on the mark on her cheek. There was a second where the sparkle in his gaze hardened to a glint just like the edge of a blade.
“Okay, thank you,” he answered and eased down.
He was beautiful and handsome with jet black hair that was cut short and a perfect black suit with an open-collar white shirt. He could be on the cover of GQ right in that second and look the part.
“Busy place,” he was trying…really trying.
She just stared at her coffee and forced a smile.
He lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip, then with a smile he finished with, “but the best damn coffee in the city.”
She took a sip and watched the steady stream of early morning risers stumble in, shivering and desperate, and then spoke. “It is a very busy place, isn’t it?”
“It’s the offices across the street, all the lawyers and their minions. It won’t matter how early you get here, they’ll beat you to the damn apple and pecan muffins…every single time.”
She cracked a smile and turned to her companion.
And in that moment, it was just her, and him, and the hiss of the coffee machine as she sat.
“My name’s Lucifer,” he murmured, and held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to enjoy this morning with you.”
God, he was so damn smooth, so perfectly handsome…and I wanted him to be my father like I’d never wanted anything else in my life.
“Stephanie,” she answered, “and thank you.”
He had a way about him; with one shake of his hand, she smiled a little brighter, eased a little more. I realized the difference then, the one thing that made him far more powerful than I could have ever imagined.
It wasn’t just anger, or hate, or fear he controlled…it was love, and desire, and ease…right at that moment, it was ease.
“Looks like you needed it, anyway.” He lifted his cup and took a sip. “Your cheeks are a little flushed.”
She knocked the handle of her mug and reached for her face. The whites of her eyes shone as her breath caught, and yet Lucifer never missed a damn beat, pressing his lips to the rim and then swallowing.
The silence lingered for a second before he spoke again.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not the police, and it’s not like I know his name…unless you want to tell me his name?”
Danger danced in his silky tone.
“I…ah…it’s not like that…I—”
“Save it,” soft words slipped from his lips. “I’ve seen more battered women than you could ever imagine.”
Her top lip curled as she leaned across the table and hissed, “It’s not like that…I caused this. I pushed him.”
She was fire and flame, and feral, and Lucifer just smiled, that soft, sad smile, and eased backwards. “There’s no judgment here, God knows enough of that goes around.” He lifted his head and gave a salute to the ceiling.
And on anyone else, the words would’ve been lost.
But not to me…not to the one person who knew him.
She slipped her fingers through the handle of her mug and held on as the waiter sidled up to the booth and slid a saucer filled with two fresh steaming muffins and a small container of butter on the table in front of him.
She glanced at the saucer, her lips mashed together, bloodless and tight.
“Would you like some?” Lucifer never once broke his gaze on her face as she gave a tiny shake of her head. “Maybe something a little more substantial? Eggs, bacon…my treat, of course.”
Her eyes shimmered under the harsh lights.
“Two more, Jeffery,” Lucifer ordered. “And fresh coffee, for myself and Stephanie.”
The waiter gave a small bow from the waist and answered. “Certainly, Mr. Lucifer.”
The saucer grazed the table as Lucifer slid the saucer in front of her and gave a nod. “Ladies first, and they’re heavenly when they’re hot.”
There was a tiny shake of her head, until she stared into his eyes and stilled. Something changed in that moment. It was physical, not any spoken word. But it was there, just as day became night and then turned to day.
It was there.
My mom just nodded. “Thank you.”
Another saucer hit the table and slid in front of him, as well as two more coffees; a mug for her, and a cup for him.
They ate in silence, cutting and then spreading butter on the steaming muffins before taking one bite after another.
There was a relaxed look of pride as he watched her eat. Small chatter began with a moan of delight and a guilty look from my mom…and slowly, bite after bite, she relaxed.
“I did warn you,” he murmured. “Now that the spell has taken hold, there’s no escape. You’ll be back for more, and, like me, you’ll make the same mistake of thinking, if you only arrived a little earlier, you wouldn’t miss out.”
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She licked the warm, dribbling butter from her fingers and popped a whole pecan into her mouth. “It’s true, I think I’m in love.”
Lucifer gave a shrug, and then leaned in. He lifted his hand, motioning her closer to murmur. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Now, I’ll expect you to swear you’ll keep this between us.”
Her smile grew wider, as a childish look of delight crossed her face. She held her hand up, palm out, “I’ll carry it to the grave.”
There was a flinch in his eyes, a cold look of fear that he smothered in an instant. “Every Friday morning at this exact time, I pay them additional to make a fresh batch just for me. Now, I’m willing to share this fresh batch with you, but I’m afraid they are just too good to take home, so we must eat them fresh from the oven and enjoy this delicious Harbor City coffee.”
Her brows arched, with a feigned look of surprise. “So they don’t travel well?”
“Not at all,” he answered with a shake of his head. “It’s a shame, a real shame. But comply with the laws of freshly baked muffins we must.”
Her laughter seemed to bubble out of nowhere, stealing the sadness from her eyes and the redness from her cheek. Lucifer gave her a cocky wink and leaned back against the seat.
And, for a perfect second, all was right with the world.
Even if he wasn’t my biological father, he’d stepped up to the plate. Which was more than I could say for the piece of shit, slimy fucking ham sandwich that gave me his genes.
I left them, then…left them perfectly happy and found myself in my car, hands still on the wheel, with a warm trail of tears cooling on my cheeks.
I wanted to carry his genes, wanted to rightfully bear his name.
I wanted him to forever treat her kindly and graciously, just as he’d done in that diner. I wanted him to love her…and that ache carried through my soul.
I wanted him to love her.
And I wanted him to love me.
Chapter Ten
Lorn