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The little house we're standing in matches Aria’s description of her dream home. I smiled for the first time in days.
Inside the house, there were easels everywhere, half-finished paintings and paint on nearly every flat surface. The itch to pick up a brush and start working on one of them was almost overwhelming, but I didn't dare try while he was with me. All it would take was a flick of his wrist, and we would be back in Hell—back in mycage.
"Not really," I responded after he gave me a withering look. "I'm usually painting visions."
This reminded me of the last time I’d painted something; Aria’s horror over the bodies of our friends was pushed to the forefront of my mind.
"You should. Once you're in Hell, there's really nothing to do besides torture or be tortured, so make sure you're living your life to the fullest."
The advice would have been sweet if he, personally, was not plotting to drag me to Hell and keep me there to the end of my hopefully long life.
I walk through the little house with reverence, taking in the little details that I would never have come up with on my own. It was peaceful and secluded. There was an office and three bedrooms; the master had rumpled sheets like Aria was just around the corner somewhere, and another had a bassinet in it that knocked the wind out of me. Every other floorboard creaked, but it didn't bother me. I was too busy absorbing our dream home with wide eyes while Lucifer trailed behind me.
"It's unfortunate that you won't get to see it again,” Lucifer remarked. My tranquility shattered like glass at the reminder. "If only things had gone in my favor back then, you could have had something like this."
He tsked while I battled the urge to scream about that not being fair.
Nobody actually cared about the Fallen, nor whether they deserved to spend their afterlife in Hell—it was just a fact of life. You drew the short straw, so you had to deal with it, just like everyone else.
Except “everyone else” didn't end up spending eternity suffering or causing suffering just because their lab work came back a certain way.
The house swirled like it was. going down the drain, and then I am—predictably—back in my cage.
Lucifer's brow furrowed and smoothed in one swift motion. "Maybe that was a bit cruel of me to show you, but I think it's vital that you see what you're being deprived of. I'm not the one who made the rules, after all."
He nodded to himself—or maybe me, but it was always hard to tell from how he rambled—and then twirled his wrist. The chalice appeared in his hand, and he sipped from it before finally focusing back on me with a grin.
"Your bond is so fragile, isn't it? I really assumed you two would connect and throw a tantrum that I'd interfered, but…" His whistle made me flinch. "What a mess. And honestly, think of how dangerous this is."
My stomach clenched. "What do you mean?"
Danger? Why would we be in danger? I knew that the mate bond had hurt Aria while we were apart before, but whatever crazy magic Lucifer and Barimuz had done was keeping the pain at bay, so what else was there?
"Barimuz!" Lucifer was outraged that I hadn't already put this together, apparently, and rolled his eyes. "What if he slept with your mate, and the bond considered it a rejection? Even setting that aside, the Upper Council now has a foothold in the Resistance camp. You're the brother of their Leader, right? Little Auren? How is he, by the way?"
He stared like he expected an answer, so I begrudgingly gave him one. "He's fine. Not as traumatized as I imagined he would be from… everything."
"Splendid! He was such a bright child; it was no hardship to lie to Azazel when he came calling to figure out if there was any way he could be revived. I probably saved your life, come to think of it."
I hadn't even considered that. Of course, he would have tried to revive Auren, though—his entire plan had been derailed when Tyler had “killed” the wrong kid, and he’d had direct access to the man who collected us when we died.
The thought was chilling.
"Anyway, we now have a spy in your camp—he even gets to sit in on your brother’s plotting with his own council. Could you imagine the intel we could feed back to the Upper Council?"
"Last I heard, they were busy dealing with the Free Kingdom," I grumbled, making him grimace.
"And that isembarrassing, make no mistake. I can't believe we had to lower ourselves to fighting with those—" Lucifer cut himself off, then took a steadying breath, waving a hand like he was trying to clear a bad smell. "Don't distract me, Sariel. Where was I?"
Taking another sip from his drink, he began pacing outside my cell's bars. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't feeling so raw.
"Ah, right!" He snapped his fingers. "This is all your fault. If you'd completed your bond, I would have taken no notice of you at all. Or even better, if I had, you could have fought off just about anyone I sent to collect you."
Lucifer's head cocked, that unsettling smile tilting his lips. "Well, maybe not Barimuz. He specializes in things like this, after all, but maybe if I had sent one of the others. Lysandra would have definitely dropped the ball."
Irrationally, I wondered what the Hell Lysandra had done that had him convinced I would be able to take her in a fight, but he'd already carried on in his tangent.
"And poor Aria. She trusts Barimuz so much right now, it would be no problem to just….”
