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“You know, or you hope?”
Lucien shut his eyes but said nothing.
“You clearly don’t know your father as well as you thought you did.”
“Maybe I don’t, but I don’t think he’ll kill you when you give him the engine.”
“And how’s that?”
“Because he’s already talked about bringing you into the fold.”
My eyes narrowed. “He what?”
“He thinks there’s a place for you here, with us. Your skills are useful, outside of helping him get into the vault.”
“My skills…” I said, nodding softly. “So, his plan is to make me give him the Infernal Engine, and then use me for my magical abilities for as long as it suits him.”
Lucien turned around, looking at me directly this time. “If you don’t do what he says, he will kill you. I promise you. And then your brother…”
“Don’t talk about my brother,” I snapped.
Even in the dark, I could see his facial features darken. “He’s alone, Beatrice. If my father kills you, it’ll only be a matter of time before he gets to him, and you know what he’ll do to him then.”
I swallowed hard. “I do…” I admitted.
He then scanned the room, as if he was looking for someone. Lucien hurried toward the bedroom door, I saw his hand ignite with warm, red light. He placed it on the door, uttered a series of quiet words I didn’t understand, and then he rushed toward the window, where he did the same.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Quiet,” he said, as he rushed over to my bed. Instinct made me want to back away from him, but I was on the bed, kind of helpless. There was nowhere to go.
I watch Lucien place his glowing, red hand on the headboard and speak those same quiet words he had said at the door and the window. Horrified, I realized there was an eerie delay between his mouth moving, and the guttural words pouring out of his throat. His eyes flashed deep crimson, and when he was done speaking, he pulled his hand away from the bed.
Something, I knew, had happened. I had felt his magic push through the room like a quiet shockwave. “What… what did you do?” I asked.
“I gave us a moment alone. It’s just us in here, now.”
I stared at him, my heartbeat deepening. “Why did you do that?”
He took a deep breath in through the nose, then exhaled. “What my father has done is wrong… and I’m going to help you.”
I stared at him, eyes narrowing. “I thought you said you couldn’t help me.”
“I can’t just magic you away from here. I can only help you if you help yourself.”
“What does that even mean?”
He placed a hand on the bedside table and leaned over toward me. “I mean it when I say he’ll kill you, Beatrice. I never thought he could be capable of the monstrous things he’s done, but now that I’ve seen it… I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“Considering what I saw that night, there’s not much you can do if he does decide to kill me.”
He turned his eyes away. I could tell my words had stung. Good. “I know,” he said, “But there may be a way I can get you out of here; orchestrate a chance for you to escape.”
In an instant, everything changed, and for the first time since meeting the Diaboli family, I felt hope. “Please, tell me this isn’t some kind of twisted Diaboli humor,” I said.
“It’s not. I need to think and plan this properly, for now just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Gee, thanks.”
