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Chapter Sixteen
Lucifer’s quarters were a stereotype. Dark, full of silvers, black, reds and expensive-looking furniture.
It was similar to the room I’d been given, in terms of layout and size, though it had no bed in the main room and had an additional door to the side that probably led to a sleeping area. Instead, it had more seating, set up like a living room rather than a hotel.
Lucifer still wore the slacks from before but had lost the jacket and tie. It didn’t stop the way he appeared entirely in control. “Are you pleased with your team’s treatment?”
“How would I know?” My heels clicked against the floor, and I prayed I didn’t fall. Somehow, I was pretty sure my tough chick act would go by the wayside if I took a tumble.
“Because the hellhound came to see you. Do you really believe I don’t know what is going on in my own palace?”
I pressed my lips together, choosing to look around the room instead of at him. “They’re fine. Well, I mean, someone tried to kill them.”
“If that ever didn’t happen, I’d worry about people working together against me.” He stopped by a large bar against the wall. “Would you like a real drink or water?”
I thought back to how thosedrinkswere made and shuddered. “I am never going to touch that stuff again. It’s like seeing sausage made. It ruins it.”
Lucifer shrugged as he poured himself a drink from a large silver bottle with intricate designs engraved. “Your loss. Also mine, since in hell, clean water is far more expensive than any other drink.” He grabbed another bottle from the shelf, one that looked just like the ones in my room.
When he handed it to me, the bottle chilled my palm. While I could have worried about being drugged, the truth was that he could have done that at any time. He could have killed me whenever he wanted, so I sipped the water without worry.
Lucifer took a drink of what he’d poured himself, then strolled over to another large cabinet. It was strange how much different he seemed.
Then again, he was the king of hell. I suppose out there, in the center of a party like that, it made sense that he might have to play a part.
Not that it made me trust him. Just because someone acted differently in public and private didn’t mean either were good.
When he turned from the cabinet, he held a bracelet in his hand.
“I’m not a jewelry sort of girl,” I said.
“You promised me four truthful answers. I’ve lived far too long to take anyone at their word.”
“Is it true you can’t lie?”
He nodded as he gestured toward the couch. “That is correct—I cannot lie.”
“Aren’t you the father of lies?”
“The stories are quite often twisted. What I suggest to people is to never believe a story, because the real ones are rarely interesting enough to last.” He set his drink on the table in front of the couch as I sat down beside him. “Hold out your arm.”
I let out a long sigh before giving him my wrist. His fingers were strong but thin, and he opened the hinged bracelet, then clasped it around my wrist.
A quick burn happened, one that made me hiss and jerk backward.
Lucifer released me right away, his hand up. “Try to relax and breathe slowly.”
“What the hell is this? Why does it hurt?”
“It is enchanted and will cause pain when you lie.”
“I’m not doing anything so why does it feel like my arm is on fire?”
Lucifer shrugged before picking up his drink again as if my issue wasn’t his problem. “Sometimes it can react that way when people are particularly conflicted.”
I clawed at it, though the longer it was on, the more the pain evened out. It didn’t go away, but it wasn’t so localized or intense. “You could have mentioned this first.”
“I saw no reason to. Besides, this doesn’t usually happen. You must be extraordinarily at odds with yourself for such a reaction. I wonder what exactly is going on in that head to cause this.”
