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He cups my face and waits for me to meet his eyes. “Who’s Charlie, Eden?”
I lick my lips, biting back my guilt. “My sister.”
“Thank you,all of you, for your assistance today. This would have gone very differently without your help.” Lucifer reappears from the basement with Darnell and his men in tow after locking up Donovan, Sid, and company.
Lucifer offers courteous handshakes and words of thanks to the 402 crew as they leave.
“Are they all locked up and comfortable?” I ask Lucifer, drawing a menacing laugh from him. One of those laughs that send chills of fear skittering down your spine.
“Locked up, yes. Comfortable, not Sid or Donovan.” Shrugging out of his grey suit jacket, he hangs it by the door and undoes the top few buttons of his shirt.
“Did Marco tell you when they’d be ready to transport them to their holding facilities?” I walk into the parlor where Edward sits on the couch, raptly watching Eden and Daemon, who sit curled together on the floor in front of the fireplace. With Eden lounging between Daemon’s legs, her back against his chest. His arms are wrapped protectively around her shaking form.
I sit down on the chair closest to Eden. Anger and concern war inside my mind at the sight of her pale complexion and vacant eyes. I look up and shake my head at Lucifer, conveying the seriousness of the situation.
“What happened in there?” Lucifer asks, taking a seat beside Edward on the arm of the couch so he can be close to Eden.
“Virgil set the whole fucking thing up. He wanted Eden there,” Daemon informs us, his tone hostile. Once again, that fucker is a step ahead and pulling our strings. I fist my hands in my lap, attempting to hide my anger.
“How do you know this?” Lucifer, once again in leader mode, remains clear headed and asks the questions that need to be asked when all I want to know is who I need to kill.
“He left her a note in a ledger book that contains proof of Donovan’s side dealings,” Daemon continues to replay the events of tonight with Lucifer.
Eden’s expression remains far away, her eyes glued to the dancing orange and blue flames burning in the stone fireplace. Her fingers curl, her nails digging into Daemon’s arm where she grips him as though she’s a feather tossing in the wind and he’s the only tether holding her to this plane.
“Eden,” I whisper, reaching out and running a knuckle down her cheek. She blinks and slowly turns her wide frightened doe eyes on me. “What was the note about, little killer?”
She swallows and shakes her head.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know. Can you show me the note at least?” I try to keep my tone soft and soothing.
She nods, and Daemon hands me an envelope withLittle Dovescrolled in the same penmanship as Daemon’s black box and Lucifer’s threat.Fucking Virgil.I pull a picture from inside and flip it over, reading the back silently to myself.
“Who is this, Eden?” I ask, confused by what her relationship to the girl might be. They look nothing alike.
“My sister, Charlie,” she finally speaks, pulling her knees up and curling in on herself. “I didn’t think. I didn’t know. He’d never—”
I share a look with my brothers and father, unsure what we should do. Consoling guilt is not where my strengths lie.
Edward stands and pulls a foot stool over to sit in front of Eden. He takes her reluctant hands in his and gives them a squeeze. “Eden, my girl, look at me.”
She follows his directions, but the pain and guilt pouring from her is thick and suffocating. “I didn’t know. Didn’t think. He’s never touched her before.”
“I know, darling. Take a deep breath and start at the beginning for me so I can help you figure this out. Can you do that for me?”
Without argument, without question, she follows his lead, mimicking the deep breaths he takes. “Good,” he croons, offering her a sad smile. “Feel better, more focused?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Now, can you tell us about the girl in the photo?” Edward asks, maintaining a physical connection with her by holding her hands, grounding her in this moment.
“About thirteen years ago, Virgil brought home this little girl and told me it was my job to look after her. She was only four years old, and her parents had been killed—probably by Virgil himself. Anyways, I shielded Charlie from Virgil’s wrath. Always took the blame for anything he found offensive, like crying that was too loud or toys left on the floor. After the first year, something shifted in Virgil, and he started doting on her, treating her like she hung the moon. He'd take her places, buy her pretty dresses. He adored Charlie. I never thought … I never thought he'd do anything to hurt Charlie.”
She releases Edward’s hands and wraps her arms around her legs. “This is all my fault. I did this to her.”
“No,” Daemon growls from behind her, pulling her back flush against his front. “Don’t you fucking say that. You left to survive; you were no good to her if you were dead. Whatever Virgil had done or will do is on him, not you. He’s only doing this to lure you back there, don’t fall for his games.”
“He’s right, Eden,” I jump in, needing her to hear what Daemon said and understand we’re in agreement.
