Page 88 of Endless Terrors
Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked around wildly, convinced Lucifer would be here as well, because I couldn’t ever escape him. But I was alone in my bed. Alone and … aching.
A fire still burned in the grate. It cast a soft-edged glow over everything. Moving more slowly now, I sat upright, my eyes going to those curtains on the other side of the room. They were shut. Nothing moved as I scanned every piece of furniture, every shadow.
Once I was sure the room was really empty, I eased back onto the bed. One second passed. Two. My hand stole downward, trailing along my inner thigh. Just I was about to touch the part of me yearning for Lucifer, that small voice returned. Fight him, Fortuna.
“Fuck.” I yanked my hand back out and let it flop onto the covers. A heavy sigh slipped out of me, and I stared up at the ceiling restlessly. As I waited to fall asleep again, I chanted those words like a spell. My heart beat like a dark rhythm.
Fight him. Fight him. Fight him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sweat streamed down my collarbone and the base of my spine. Breathing hard, I glared at the dummy in front of me as if I had a personal vendetta against it.
The gray, lumpy thing gazed back pitifully. No one had thought to give it eyes or a mouth, and its whole body was lopsided. Its placement on the short stand looked precarious, but so far, I hadn’t been able to knock it over. I prowled around the dummy in a restless circle, silently reminding myself that it was all in my head, the exhaustion. I should’ve been able to keep hitting for hours without stopping.
Holding this thought tightly in my mind, I launched forward again, swinging, striking, kicking, spinning. An ache began in my side and I ignored it determinedly, whacking the dummy so hard with the edge of my sword that a dent appeared in its side. Satisfaction ebbed through me; I was getting stronger.
I was back in the library. It was still too early to begin my excursion into the city, so I’d found Roger and asked if he could bring back one of the practice swords Lucifer and I had used for our little face-off the other day. As I passed the hours training, I kept going to the window and peering down. There was no such thing as night and day here, but there were certain stretches of time that were quieter than others. Safer. I’d learned that much, at least, during my time here. The busier the streets below, the more likely I was to run into trouble.
Lucifer wasn’t entirely to blame for my bad mood. Some of it, strangely enough, was because of Narfu. I had spotted the demon on my way to the library. He’d scuttled out of sight, but I’d seen his neck—there was still no collar. No reason for the fact that he hadn’t claimed his freedom or seized the opportunity to leave this tower.
I’d just started whaling on the dummy again when the elevator doors opened.
I didn’t stop or look to see who it was, but judging from the way my entire body lit up, it could only be one person. From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucifer lean his hip against one of the pillars. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched me. I was suddenly conscious of the thin tank top I was wearing, and that I hadn’t changed out of the tiny shorts I’d fallen asleep in.
The last time we’d seen each other had been just a few hours ago, when we were both very naked … thanks to me.
Tension shot through my jaw, and I forced myself to unclench it. I kept going, waiting for Lucifer to bring up the dream. Instead, he kept his focus on my movements with the sword and said, “I can teach you.”
I already have a teacher, thanks. I forced back the sharp response and struck the dummy again. “I’d rather go flying” was all I said.
“Maybe later. Come downstairs for breakfast.” Lucifer inclined his golden head, and it glinted in the firelight.
“Maybe later,” I said, mocking him. Fuck it. I was done playing nice, anyway. I’d gotten what I wanted from him. I hit the dummy, grunting.
Seconds later, someone else arrived on the elevator. I heard the familiar clip-clop of Roger’s feet, and the intensity of Lucifer’s focus finally moved away from me. His head bent as he and Roger had one of their secret conversations. Whatever the demon said made Lucifer’s eyes darken. I observed them as subtly as I could, making sure not to falter in my training.
Once they were done, Roger bowed and stepped back. Lucifer nodded at me in a silent goodbye, his expression distracted. He strode back onto the elevator, where Dagan was already waiting. I’d finally stopped fighting the dummy, and I stood in the center of the room, my gaze locked with Lucifer’s as the doors closed between us.
I couldn’t focus after that. Even after he had been gone for several minutes, my strikes were off. I wasn’t punching with as much force. Roger stood in the shadows, keeping his face turned toward the windows. Eventually I swung away from the dummy, growling. A burst of temper almost made me throw my sword at the wall. I took some deep breaths and placed it calmly on the table.
Roger moved forward. “Are you finished, my lady?”
“Yes.” I started toward the elevator, knowing the demon would follow. As he reached my side, I thought about the hours ahead. I could not spend them in that bedroom, where the sight of the rumpled covers would remind me of last night. Of why, exactly, I’d been tossing and turning so much. “Actually, will you take me up to the roof?”
“Of course, my lady.”
A minute later, I rushed off the elevator, arching my neck back to breathe in the open air. It didn’t matter that the need for oxygen was all in my head, I swore it helped. I passed below the stone circle that connected all the pillars, and walked through the shadows of the gargoyles that perched on top. For a split second, I could’ve sworn one of them moved. I halted in the middle of the circle they made, but I was still restless.
Roger must’ve sensed that I wanted to be alone, because he bowed and walked backward, away from me. The elevator doors opened and shut with his departure.
I tried to focus on today’s plan. I’d need a weapon before I left the tower. But I had never seen a gun here, and the knives were undoubtedly kept in the kitchen. A room I’d never seen, even during Lucifer’s tour. I could probably ask Roger to take me there, but he would undoubtedly tell Lucifer about it.
Wait. I frowned and came to an abrupt halt, realizing, belatedly, that I had started pacing at some point. Technically, I wasn’t a prisoner. What if I just … asked for a weapon?
My thoughts were disturbed by the faint rustle of wingbeats above. I spun around, and I hated how the breath caught in my throat.
Lucifer was like some beautiful statue in a fairy-tale courtyard. He’d landed on the ledge, and he stayed crouched there, head bent, hands folded loosely between his knees. The horizon rumbled behind him. He must’ve just been somewhere cold, because his cheeks were dark and his hair rested over his forehead in half-frozen waves. The devil’s wings loomed behind him like dozens of strange stars, catching every flash and flicker of red.
