Wicked Ruin (Se7en Sinners Book 3)
Page 19
“And they would do your dirty work.”
He shrugs. “Better them than me. Uriel is a prick, but he’s a resourceful prick. If he had a plan for you, I wasn’t about to be the one to foil it. But I would not have allowed you to be hurt. That I can promise you.”
But he did. He stood by and watched me suffer at the hands of my mother. Hungry, dirty, and forgotten, I was left to perish before I’d even learned how to tie my shoes. And when I failed to die from my mother’s neglect, she took things into her own hands.
And Lucifer did nothing.
So many nights I lay awake, silently praying for someone to take me away from the cruel reality of my life. So many nights I had hoped for someone to care—to just give a damn—enough about me to check in with us. They would have seen that she was sick, her mind corroded by drug use and hysteria, just as Uriel had wanted. And I could have known something other than the rot and ruin, dread and destruction that I had believed was my birthright.
And still, Lucifer did nothing.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Lucifer works his sensual mouth, searching for the right words, and I’m hit with the memory of his lips on mine just hours ago. But when he speaks, his tone is sharp. “It’s supposed to make you understand. Yes, your life was shitty, but you survived, just as I knew you would. Just as it was prophesized.”
Prophesized? Why would my existence be worth prophesizing?
Before I can ask him to clarify, he pushes off from the bed. I notice shadows around his eyes as he looks down at me.
“This will not kill you. It will hurt you, yes, but it won’t destroy you. He doesn’t have that power.”
I don’t have the heart to ask him if he’s referring to Uriel. Or Legion.
I cast my gaze down to my knotted fingers clutching the comforter around my naked breasts. But when I look up, Lucifer is gone, stealthily leaving the way he came. I’m left wondering if he was ever truly here. Or maybe his presence was merely a figment of my imagination, a conjured comfort in the midst of my desperate sorrow. Either way, I can’t deny the truth that’s staring me down: I was glad he was here. And I was glad Legion was not.
I fall into a fitful sleep soon after, my dreams just fragments of color and flashes of light. When I wake, still exhausted, I drag my weary body past the wreckage of my wardrobe to the bath to soak and scrub the night before off my skin. My face is still streaked with melted makeup and salted tear trails, my eyes bloodshot and puffy. I don’t know what happened last night. I don’t even know who it was that was holding me down and fucking me. And now that I’ve slept on it, I feel an overwhelming sense of disgust—at the violation and for finding a semblance of pleasure in the violence. I trusted Legion with my body, and even though he had no control, he betrayed that trust. I don’t know how we come back from that. And until he deals with the demons wreaking havoc from within, I don’t know if we should.
I don’t bother with makeup, and barely have enough energy to pull my hair into a messy bun before dressing down in the first casual garments I can find. My appearance truly matches the darkness in my soul. I look drab. Tired. But after what happened the night before at the masquerade party, I can’t afford the luxury of hiding out in my room and crying into my pillow like some heartbroken teenager. Now more than ever, it’s evident that I have to be trained and ready. So if that means shelving my current crisis and slapping on some manufactured confidence, that’s what I’ll do.
But all of that steely resolve vanishes the moment I step into the gym and every soul—demon, angel, or otherwise—stops and turns to stare, ceasing all prior activity.
I’m used to getting funny looks—that’s never bothered me before. But this is different. And they’re not gazing at me with expressions of curiosity or even disdain. I read pity in their eyes. Confusion. Shock. As if they lived that moment with me in my bedroom as Legion relinquished control to the darkest, most devious parts of himself. As if they felt that same pain that pierced straight into my heart when I realized that I wasn’t strong enough to help him fight those demons. That I wasn’t enough to make him fight for us. They know. They must all know. And how pathetic I must be for feeling grateful that he isn’t here right now, bearing witness to their judgment. Even now, I want to save him, when last night was a clear indication that I can’t.
“Eden?” Lilith’s voice is soft, and it almost startles me as she slowly approaches. “How are you?”
I try to manage a casual shrug, but I can’t fake it. “Ok.”
“Have…have you heard anything?”
I frown. “From who?”
Lilith mimics my expression. “No one’s told you?”
“Told me what?”
“Legion…he’s…gone.”
I can feel the blood drain from my face as I read the hurt etched in hers. “What?”
“He left…sometime late last night. We don’t know where he is. We can’t track him. We can’t even…feel…him. He’s gone.” She looks around the gym, her gaze landing on the remaining members of the Se7en. “We’re going out to find him. He would never leave us without at least discussing it. Something must be wrong.”
Something is wrong, I want to say, but the words catch in my rapidly tightening throat.
I should have known something was up when Cain wasn’t dutifully sitting at my sister’s side this morning. Instead, he’s here, with his brothers and sister, regarding me with a glimmer of skepticism in his black eyes. Maybe they don’t know what went down between Legion and me last night, but I’m sure at least Cain suspects something. Especially if they know what happened with Lucifer at the party. Maybe they think I’m to blame. Maybe they think that kiss sparked a raging darkness inside Legion. And honestly, I wouldn’t be able to dispute that, not when I experienced that darkness for myself.
“We’re training one last time before we leave. We don’t know what we’ll come up against,” Lilith says.
“I’m coming with you.”
She hesitates before she nods in response. “Adriel, Nikolai, and Lucifer have agreed to join us. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Truth be told, I’ll never be ready for what’s to come. There’s no way you can prepare for what’s meant to be your execution.
But still, I lie. To her, and to myself. Because the truth is just too painful to admit, even within the prison of my own mind.
“Yes.”
I spend my last couple hours with Sister, struggling to keep the crippling fear from dimming my features. Irin agreed to let her stay until she is completely healed, and after that, she will be free to stay or return to her old life, whatever is left of it. As much as I would hate to imagine my sister in a skimpy outfit, serving drinks to supernatural creatures during lavish parties, I truly hope she decides to stay. Safety is a novelty that only Irin can provide for the time being. If Toyol’s reports are accurate, the city is a war zone. There is no place for her there.
“So are you just going to let me ramble on about these rich chicks’ botched boob jobs, or are you finally ready to tell me what’s bothering you?”
I turn from the Housewives show I’m spacing out on, and plaster on a tight smile. “Nothing is bothering me.”
“Bull.” She clicks off the television, giving me her undivided attention. “I know you, Eden. You can lie to everyone else and pretend like you’re not scared out of your wits, but you can’t pretend with me. Come on…talk to me. Between you and Cain, I’m starting to freak out here.”
That piques my interest. “What did Cain say?”
“Nothing. That’s the point. He tells me nothing, as if he’s afraid that any hint of bad news will break me. I’m not that fragile. I know something is going on and I deserve to know what it is. Being in the dark nearly killed me, remember? I don’t think I’ll cheat death a second time.”
A pang of guilt pierces my chest at the mention of the explosion that nearly took her from me. The explosion that was a message for me. She’s lyin
g in that hospital bed because of me. I may as well have pushed the button on the detonator myself.
“Well?” she says impatiently. Determination narrows her glare. “I’m waiting. Spill it.”
I take a deep breath. Then another, just to stall. “L…he’s gone.”
“Gone? Like, stepped out for a smoke-gone? Or went to the store for a gallon of milk and been gone for twelve years-gone?”
“I don’t know. I guess the second one?” I shrug. “He just left. Didn’t tell anyone.”
“Damn. Like that other guy, right? Crysis?”
Shit. She’s right. Like Crysis, Legion left without a trace, without telling a soul he was leaving. And the only thing I can think about is how I had a part in both of their disappearances. Crysis ghosted shortly after he and I had that tiff, resulting in me blasting him with holy light. And last night, after….whatever…happened between Legion and me, I can see why he dipped out too. Although, I didn’t blast him…I think. I just assumed he had gotten ahold of himself and threw himself back into that wardrobe, leaving it in a pile of splinters and strewn clothing…
Fuck. What if that was me? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to hurt him, despite the fact that he was hurting me. But what if some inner angel, flight or fight instinct kicked in before I even realized what I was doing? It’s certainly possible. I didn’t see any light, but I was also being held facedown into a tear-stained comforter.
“Are you ok?” Sister asks, her voice full of sympathy.
“I don’t know. I’m worried.” And terrified. And angry.
“I know.” She rests a partially gauzed hand atop mine. “Did something happen?”
I look away and shake my head. There’s no way I can tell her about last night. She wouldn’t understand. Hell, I don’t even understand. But I know he left because of me. He abandoned his family—the ones who have fought alongside him for centuries—because of me. There’s no way I can stomach that fact without choking on my own guilt.
“I wanted to see you tonight because we’re leaving,” I finally admit.
“Leaving? When? Where are we going?”
“Not we, Sister,” I explain, turning back to face her. Her big, brown eyes fill with concern and confusion. “Me. I’m going with the Se7en to find L.”
“But I thought it wasn’t safe.”
“It’s not. Not for you, at least.” I try to smile through the pain, but I can’t force the act. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve been training every day. Cain says I’m pretty lethal with a gun.”
Her mouth twitches as if she wants to appear optimistic, but I know just the mention of her newfound companion pains her. She’s not at risk of just losing me. She could very well lose him too. And even if we somehow make it out alive, there’s no telling how long we’ll be gone. Or in what state we’ll return.
“Don’t go,” she whispers, her voice cracking under the strain of emotion. “Stay here with me. Please? I can’t lose you too.”
I blink back tears, refusing to let them fall. It wasn’t that long ago that she lost Ben, the man she had been planning a life with. She loved him. And it’s a miracle that she’s opened her heart enough to heal and find solace in Cain. Her life was stolen from her. Her job, her home. Yet, she never let it ruin her. Somehow, it only made her more determined to survive.
But I fear that losing me and losing Cain will destroy her.
Still, I believe that I have to do this for her. We have to do this for her. Even if we don’t survive, she deserves another shot at happiness.
“I wish I could,” I reply to her pleas. “I do. But I can’t let others fight on my behalf anymore. All this…it’s because of me. Uriel is still out there, and he has my mother, plus a weapon that could kill the Se7en permanently. I won’t be a coward. If everyone else is willing to risk their lives, I need to do the same.”
She nods, knowing that my words are as true as they are earnest. But I know they do nothing to soothe her aching heart.
“When?”
“Tonight,” I answer. When her gaze goes wide with terror, I continue. “The sooner we leave, the easier it may be to track Legion. Before he gets too far. He could very well be in danger.”
“I understand,” she replies, casting her gaze downward.
I don’t want to cause her any more undue pain, so I climb to my feet and lean over to leave a kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
“You better.” Her beautiful, brown eyes well with tears. “I love you, little sis.”
“I love you, too.”
I turn away before the first of my tears have a chance to fall. The sniffles at my back have me swallowing my own sobs as I open the door that leads to the hallway. I’m not surprised to find Cain standing there, propped against the opposite wall.
“You told her.”
I nod. “I don’t want to lie to her.”
“So she knows there’s a good possibility that none of us will make it back?”
“She knows there’s a chance that will happen, yes.”
A frown dimples the space between his dark, bushy brows and he strokes his beard. I’ve grown to learn that it’s his tell when he’s contemplative or troubled. “If things go awry, I want you to make it back here. If it looks like we’ll lose, leave us. Come back to her. She’ll need you more than ever if we’re not successful.”
“Successful. In finding Legion? Or in stopping Uriel?”
“Either. Both. If we fail at either one, it won’t matter anyway. If Uriel doesn’t destroy your world, Legion will finish off the job.”
My stare goes sharp and narrow. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.” He pushes off the wall and comes to stand in front of me. Even with his proximity, I’m not afraid of him anymore. Actually, I’ve grown fond of Cain. And with his newly grown beard covering most of his scar, I might even find him handsome. “There was a reason he surrendered his power to Lucifer. He could’ve resisted, but he didn’t. He didn’t want this.”
“So what do we do now?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“We find him. Then we go after Uriel.”
“In that order?”
He nods. “L is a sitting duck out there. Uriel knows that if he presses the right buttons and provokes him, Legion will do the very thing he desires. He will wipe out mankind.”
“And if it’s too late? If somehow Uriel finds him first?”
Cain looks away. Even his tone is distant. “We stop him.”
I hear the words, but know they mean something different—something more. We won’t just stop Legion. Cain is prepared to kill him.
“We meet in twenty. Suit up.”
He steps to Sister’s door but doesn’t turn the knob to go inside. Instead, he gently presses his forehead against the polished wood, a move that is so vulnerable, it almost makes him human. He’s in pain. Maybe even a little afraid.
I wish I had some words of comfort to offer him, but there’s no way I could offer fake confidence and optimism, not when my insides were twisted with anxiety. So I turn and slowly make my way down the hall, letting my tears leave a salty trail from Sister’s door.
When I make it to my room, I find that someone has taken the liberty of laying out clothes for me. Black leather pants, a long sleeve thermal, combat boots. Fighting clothes. There’s even a matching leather jacket with half a dozen inside pockets and straps built in, for weapons, I assume.
Holy shit. This is happening.
I mean, I knew it was happening, but it didn’t really sink in until now. I’d grown spoiled during our stay here. Too comfortable with the safety and security that Irin’s home provided. Now we are deliberately stepping into a war zone. And to be honest, I’m scared shitless.
I dress quickly just to give my shaking hands something to do and then slick my hair back into one long, silver braid. Whoever left the clothes also thought to include wool socks and leather gloves. It’s swelt
ering with all my layers, but I know it’s necessary to combat the Chicago chill. It’d be downright tragic to make it this far only to fall victim to hypothermia.
When enough time has passed, I make my way to Irin’s sitting room for the last time. The mood is somber. Even her staff have stowed their usual cheery demeanor. The Se7en are stationed at their designated space on the opposite side of the sectional, but Legion’s absence makes them seem even farther away. His presence filled the room. I could feel him in every cell, vibrating with the hum of his unnatural heartbeat. And now, he’s left a gaping hole—in my chest and within the Se7en. None of us are complete without him.
Irin is dressed in one of her many sarong and bra top ensembles, but this set seems less flashy. It’s black, just like everyone else’s clothing, and I have to wonder if we’re subconsciously having a funeral. Even Adriel has swapped out her flowing winter white for darker layers.
I’ve only just sat down when Lucifer comes striding in, Nikolai right behind him. The dazzling warlock comes to sit beside me, his expression unreadable. He isn’t in his usual dark suit, having traded the designer threads for slacks and a leather jacket similar to mine. I release a relieved breath.
“You’re coming?”
Niko nods. “Luc told me how he found you last night. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
He stares straight ahead, his jaw tight. I can’t imagine what he must think of me right now.
“He didn’t mean it… It wasn’t him.”
Niko’s head turns towards me so unnaturally quick that I nearly yelp. His eyes are pale and speckled with azure fire. “Wasn’t it though?”
He holds me with his glittering glare for nearly a minute before Lucifer clears his throat from his place beside Irin. When I look to him, he gives me a tight smile, so unlike the cocky grin that usually curves his sensual mouth.
Cain steps to the center of the room to address us all, his expression serious. He’s trimmed his short beard, revealing more of the scar that mars his face from lip to ear.
“If any of you are even the slightest bit uncertain, this is the time to speak up. Because the moment we leave this house, there is no turning back. There is no mercy beyond these walls—no safety from the terrors that await us. There is only violence. Only death. If you survive, you will live out your days with blood on your hands. Blood that may never wash off. So if you’re not one hundred percent sure that you can handle that, do us all a favor and stay behind. The training wheels are off from this point forward. This is war.”