Page 98 of Endless Terrors
“Okay. Good night.” I tried to hide my eagerness as I nodded and started walking toward the door. My lips were still tingling. I wasn’t sure if the tightness in my chest was relief or something else. But the sound of Lucifer’s voice stopped me.
“Lady Sworn.”
“Yes?”
He turned his head, giving me a glimpse of his profile. “Thank you.”
I paused before responding. I told myself to say something cruel or mocking. Lucifer was the enemy. I hated him. He didn’t deserve kindness.
“You’re welcome,” I said softly.
The devil didn’t say anything else, so I walked away again. Halfway to the door, I faltered—there was a piece of paper on the floor. It was crumpled into a ball, just another piece of the chaos. It blended in perfectly. I would’ve missed it entirely if it hadn’t been near the door, all on its own, as if someone had dropped it on their way out. There was a glimpse of writing visible, and it didn’t look like Lucifer’s neat hand. I frowned and knelt down, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he hadn’t noticed. Following a stray, insistent instinct, I closed my fingers around the paper ball and tried to hold it subtly as I left. But Roger was distracted as he accompanied me to the elevator. Worried about his master, I thought.
I waited until I’d gotten back to my room to open my hand. Leaning against the closed door, I unfurled the paper and read the scribbled words written in the center. Once. Twice. My heart beat so hard that I could feel it in my ears. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, and my mind burst with a thousand new questions. What did this mean? Was it a warning … or a threat?
I read the note a third time, and I resisted the urge to clench my fist around it. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. The message was seared onto my brain, as permanent as the brand on my back.
Three words. Ink so deep that it showed on the other side of the paper. Letters shaky with rage, or urgency, or fear. Maybe all three.
Don’t trust him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Do I need to hide my face?”
I was nervous, and the feeling leaked into my voice. I tried to disguise it by relaxing my shoulders and tugging at the waist of the dress I was wearing. A green, long-sleeved design with a thin belt and delicate buttons down the center. My heeled boots clicked against the stones. A long, dark coat warded off Hell’s relentless chill.
“No. Don’t ever hide your face, Fortuna.” Lucifer’s gaze felt like a caress, and I pretended not to notice. “As long as I am at your side, no harm will come to you.”
Now that I could believe.
It felt strange to just walk past those frothy-mouthed dogs and out the front doors of the tower. I kept waiting for Lucifer to make some excuse, or for something to happen that would conveniently force us to turn back, but it seemed he was actually making good on his word. Today, Lucifer would show me his city and take me wherever I wanted, since I’d agreed to a protective unit.
Why, then, did this feel so much like … a date?
I told myself I was overthinking it, and focused on the landmarks and details around us. If Lucifer’s guards followed, I didn’t see them. They continued to stay out of sight as we made our way down the street.
We spent hours in the city. I didn’t know where to start with my search, and Lucifer ended up showing me his favorite places. I figured it was a good way to familiarize myself with the area, anyway. Unsurprisingly, the King of Hell turned out to be an excellent guide. Wherever we went, he had facts or history to share. He seemed to know everything, not just about the city but its citizens, too.
There was one borough called Edallosa with stalls full of gems. There was the mining district where I had first awoken. Another section of First City seemed entirely dedicated to sex clubs and brothels.
Demons and souls filled the streets as if it were Mardi Gras. As one would expect in Hell, nothing was off limits, and there was no kink too bizarre or macabre. I was careful not to look at Lucifer as we passed the windows, doorways, and stalls of this particular neighborhood.
Then we crossed a bridge made of what looked like elephant bones, and it was jarring when we entered a section of the city that was quieter. Everyone spoke in low murmurs. Objects hung on strings in the stalls, flashing and tinkling. Feathers, bones, stones. The air was full of smoke and strange smells. Drugs, I realized quickly, watching a small bag of white powder pass between a soul and a demon. A small, reckless part of me was tempted to try one of the wares on display, and I passed quickly through this part of the First City, as well.
Bursts of music accompanied us wherever we went, spirits playing instruments on busy corners, a hat or bowl lying at their feet. Some of the instruments I recognized. Some I’d never seen before. But no matter how disjointed the melody, or how strange the words were, it was beautiful.
Lucifer must’ve noticed how intently I listened whenever we walked by, because he went silent each time, allowing me to hear every kind of music his world had to offer.
For dinner, he brought me to a square with streets that looked like cobblestone, and glowing lights strewn across them like the string lighting from my world. There was still nothing green, but there were bits of colored rock embedded in the doorframes and around the windows. The music that floated through the air here was playful, almost whimsical. Lucifer and I sat at a small, round table illuminated by candlelight. Our server placed something between us—a strange, spiky object that pulsed slightly—and it emanated one of the most pleasant scents I’d ever encountered. As I continued to breathe it in, I felt myself relax. I even ordered a dish that resembled a coral reef and took several bites of it.
As we ate, it was obvious that every single soul and creature here knew who Lucifer was. The other patrons stared in our direction, but they were subtle about it. I could feel the pressure of eyes on my skin, yet every time I looked up, no one was looking back.
We were still sitting there when another band of musicians arrived. There were four of them, each one of a different demon species. But their wings and talons and claws didn’t prevent them from holding instruments. The music floated through the air, low and unrushed. There was something ancient and sensual about how the notes ran together. I sat there, hands in my lap, swaying.
Lucifer slid out of his chair. Our server hurried over, her expression alarmed, and he said something in Enochian, his tone reassuring. She backed away again, her double-lidded eyes darting between us nervously. The devil turned and bowed, his hand extending toward me. I’d had wine with my meal, and after an entire day of being at Lucifer’s side, breathing in his scent, I’d forgotten how to hate him.
I stood and allowed him to take hold of me.
