“Lucifer did open himself up to you. He regards you as a daughter, not an heir. He never called the last heir a son, not that I heard. You two have a connection. I can see it. Lucifer can see it. How can you so easily discount it?”
“I barely know the guy. He’s cool, and we have a connection, sure, but it is more teacher and student than kid and dad. I can pretend otherwise with some conviction, but that’s the honest truth.”
“Why is that?” he asked, giving me a searching look.
“Because I barely know the guy, like I said. It bugged me that he pretended to understand my pain, when he so clearly doesn’t. He asked me not to destroy this garden, hinting that it was special to him. That we shared the same grief. We very clearly do not.”
“I’m not following.”
“As if I could destroy something that reminded me of her. As if I could do anything but treasure it for the rest of my life. I miss her so much it feels like the blackness is going swallow me whole, even now, after she’s been gone for a few years. If he thought he had to say that, then he doesn’t understand me at all. He was trying to manipulate me, and to do that with my mother—with the pain that is locked inside of me at her passing—is all kinds of wrong. It is a forgivable offense in the grand scheme of things, since it was early in our relationship and he has goals, but I won’t forgive him until I’m safely out of here. You were absolutely right— her memory has kept me grounded, especially since I couldn’t let myself think of Darius and Penny and everyone else. He doesn’t have that kind of pull with me yet. We need to work on real trust before I can let him in.”
He nodded, and this time he did stand. Apparently I’d passed the test, whatever that was.
“I am sad for you,” he murmured before we started walking. “I’m sad you have to be torn like this. That you can’t experience the full happiness you deserve.”
“We all make sacrifices for those we love. If I can get Penny, Darius, you, and Emery out of here in one piece, I won’t regret a single thing. Let’s just hope Daddy Dearest doesn’t have any tricks up his sleeve.”
Eighteen
“Get him out of my sight.” I waved Cahal away when we reached the second-floor landing. “I will not be granting you a fucking mercy killing, Cahal. You and my da—Lucifer can suck it.”
He turned and showed me his back, straight and broad, like he was about to march into death without flinching.
He probably was, just not in the way our demon observers thought.
I kept my own back from straightening, my chin from rising.
I sensed battle coming. It was almost time to fight for my life in the best way I knew how—magic, steel, and fists. But not yet. I couldn’t show that side of myself without alerting everyone that I’d had a drastic change of heart. They knew me as a temperamental teen, basically. The broken heir who spent her days being coddled and training with her father. The moody, hormonal kid who was just getting her bearings. It was a façade that never would’ve fooled anyone who truly knew me. They would’ve called bullshit immediately.
I ripped away a wall hiding a little creepy demon and sent it scurrying with a ball of fire. I pulled Darius to the forefront of my mind, letting the longing soak into me. Drag at me. It would take the fire out of my eyes. The determination out of my jaw. It would help mask my desire to kick some ass long enough for me to get to my room and get things in motion.
Mr. Boobs found me on the third floor. I turned and blasted it with a shock of air, knocking it over the stone railing. It would catch itself before it went splat. Not like it mattered—it was a spy for Lucifer. It kept me in my place, happy as could be, and alerted the masses every time I did something big, like ripping down a huge wall that had sectioned off part of the castle or cutting a hole in the ceiling.
They must’ve thought I was incredibly gullible all these weeks, acting up but largely falling in line. I could just imagine Darius asking why he’d never gotten this Reagan, who could be trapped and cowed, happy with only friendly banter and fun training sessions.
Yes, I did like this place. But I liked being me better. This return to decisiveness felt damn good. It was like I was pulling off a smothering sheet. I had a job to do: save my friends, bang my boyfriend, and then knock the elves down a peg so Lucifer could open up the Underworld and I could come and go as I pleased. That was the real end game. That was what I wanted. I wanted to be here on my own terms. I wouldn’t mind taking a spin in the ruler chair, but I’d need freedom, and to also keep my home in the Brink.