Page 6 of Endless Terrors
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Not just to breathe, but literally how. Terror coursed through me, paralyzing my entire body as it went. Lucifer waited patiently for my response. His voice slipped through my head like a silk ribbon. It’s nice to finally meet in person, Fortuna Sworn.
But I couldn’t even pull the air back into my lungs, much less think of what to say or how to handle this. It felt like my runaway heart kept beating out his name. Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer.
I was still looking at the mirror beside us, and I watched the devil’s eyes crinkle at the corners, as if he was pleased that I’d figured out who he was. I hadn’t said a word, but my expression must’ve betrayed me, somehow. Shown a glimmer of recognition.
If he’d been beautiful before, seeing Lucifer smile was like watching the sun rise. My hold tightened on the doorknob. I couldn’t stop myself from staring, and for the first time in my life, I felt like the plain one. This fallen angel’s beauty lived up to the stories, the accounts, but it was more ethereal than the world’s standards. His jaw was strong and graceful, and his cheekbones were high, like a faerie’s. His lips were full and framed by the lines of a lean face. Like the fine, minute details of a carving. Golden hair fell across his forehead and against his neck, slightly longer than Oliver’s. The color made me think of a lion.
At last, I pulled my gaze away from the mirror and back to the man standing in front of me. Jacob Goldmann was dying. The truth struck me like a blow to the chest, but I tried to hide my horror. I met his bleeding eyes and told myself to put on the mask of the Unseelie Queen. She felt nothing. She was cold, and cruel, and unafraid.
Even if the man in front of her looked like he was about to burst.
“This isn’t real. You can’t be here,” I said finally. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder. Hello seemed to have completely disappeared, thank God. I didn’t blame her.
“Is it so hard to believe that after millennia, I managed to climb my way out of the pit?” Lucifer questioned. Then he added, “You don’t need to worry about your lover overhearing us—I’ve sent him away for a while. I didn’t want any interruptions. None of your other companions will hear, either.”
It felt like there was a hand around my throat. “Wh-what did you do to them?”
“Not a thing. They’re safe, I assure you. A friend of mine has merely placed a sound ward around me, which affects anyone nearby.”
By “friend,” I assumed Lucifer meant a witch. I didn’t answer. Jacob’s skin looked chalky now, and his nose had started bleeding, in addition to the thin streams still coming out of his eyes. Worried I might vomit, my gaze shifted back to the mirror.
Until this encounter, I’d thought I was immune to the power of beauty. But Lucifer was shattering a lot of delusions I had let myself believe.
Realizing I’d fallen silent again, the devil let out a weary sigh and waved his hand. “Please point your gun at me if it helps you relax, Fortuna.”
I hadn’t even realized I was holding it, but that wasn’t the only thing I found disturbing. The way Lucifer said my name was wrong, too. Easy, as if he had said it a thousand times and known me a thousand days. Once again, I squeezed the doorknob as though it were someone’s hand, keeping me upright, lending me courage. I didn’t know what this creature was capable of. I wasn’t sure I could beat him.
The thought sent splinters of ice through my veins.
And yet, in spite of the fear that had frozen every part of me, something in my body responded to the devil’s intent gaze. I didn’t want to name it, but the truth whispered through my veins.
Attraction.
For an instant, I hated myself for feeling it, and I fought a wave of guilt and confusion. As I drowned, Lucifer’s arm moved, slowly. I watched his fingers curl around the barrel of the gun and raise it toward his chest. He touched the weapon with disconcerting gentleness, as if it were really me he was touching. When I saw that, my guilt narrowed to a trickle, then evaporated.
Suddenly I was certain that divinity or knowledge wasn’t what tempted Eve in the garden—it had been him. Just him. Like Laurie with his illusions and Collith with his heavenly fire, Lucifer was no ordinary fallen angel. His power had something to do with seduction, and I needed to ignore the heat in my lower stomach, because it wasn’t coming from me. It was magic.
“What do you want?” I managed. My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears. Feeling foolish, I lowered the gun. Something told me it wouldn’t work on him, holy bullet or not.
Lucifer didn’t answer right away. He examined the loft with a polite expression, and there was a thoughtful twist to his mouth. “Do you know the meaning of my name?” he asked abruptly, refocusing on me.
It was difficult to speak, but he seemed to expect a response again. After several attempts, I managed to get out, “No. No, I don’t know the meaning of your name.”
He tilted his golden head. “Well, there’s more than one interpretation. Light bringer. Morning star. I am known for darkness, and yet, it wasn’t always that way. I’m not evil, Fortuna. So please stop looking at me like I’m about to murder you in this stairwell.” There was something about his weary tone, a sort of resignation that made the devil seem all too human. I caught myself actually wanting to believe him. Despite this, I didn’t miss that he hadn’t answered my question. An answer wasn’t necessary, anyway, because I already knew why he’d come.
She’s promised to him. That was what his witch had said to my parents, just before my father shot her in the face.
Lucifer wanted a host. One that wouldn’t deteriorate in a matter of hours, like Jacob Goldmann. I held back a cringe at the sight of a hole opening in his cheek, and quickly turned back to the mirror again.
“How can I see you in the reflection?” I asked. “Honestly, I can’t decide which one of you I find more revolting.”
Part of me had been hoping to get under Lucifer’s skin, to see his expression flare with temper. Instead, he looked down at me with a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming in a way that made the temperature rise between us. “There’s that fire I admire,” he murmured.
It was too similar to something Laurie would say, how he would act. Unnerved, I couldn’t think of any of my usual comebacks or insults. As we stood there like two statues, the devil’s hand reached up. For one breathless second I knew he wanted to touch my cheek. But then his fingers clenched, and his attention shifted.
I followed his gaze to a picture on the sofa table, which rested perfectly within his line of sight. It was of the five of us—me, Finn, Damon, Matthew, and Emma. We stood in the snow, wearing coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Our cheeks were red from the cold. At first, Emma had been behind the camera. Then Cyrus had walked by and offered to take it. She’d run at us, her stick-thin arms outstretched. Both Damon and Finn had automatically moved to catch her, and I’d stood off to the side, laughing, my nephew in my arms.
It had been a good day. One of the last good days, though I didn’t know it at the time. We never know it in the moment, when we’re doing something for the last time. We always assume there will be one more night, one more conversation, one more laugh.
