Of course you’re not scared,I thought.You’ve never had to be.
“That’s the thing about you,” I said and I pulled the knife out of his hand and wiped it on his shirt. “You really believe you’re untouchable. Like the rules don’t apply and consequences are for other people.”
He smirked, breath hot and ragged. “Look around, sweetheart. I’m still sitting here, aren’t I?”
I leaned in until my nose almost brushed his. “For now.”
I straightened and turned away from him, palm skimming over the sheet-draped table. My fingers traced the outline of my “centerpiece,” the thing I’d built just forhim, for us, for the Devil who insisted on seeing every ugly piece of me and still came back.
Luci, I thought again, harder this time.I’m doing it. I’m choosing. So if you’re going to show up, now would be the fucking time. I’m trying to be all romantic and shit.
Nothing answered but the faint hum of the fridge and Callen’s heavy breathing.
I swallowed, throat tight. Maybe he wouldn’t come.
“Second dare,” I said through clenched teeth, forcing cheer into my voice as I turned back around. “Try this on for size: Callen, I dare you to remember.”
His brow furrowed.
“Remember what?” he asked, genuine confusion wrinkling his forehead.
That punched a hole right through my sternum because of course.
Of course he didn’t remember the girl he left for dead on a gravel road thirty years ago. Why would he? I was just a night out with the boys that no one ever spoke about.
My fingers tightened on the water gun.
“You don’t know, do you?” I asked quietly. “Who I am.”
His jaw flexed. “You’re some crazy bitch who thinks she’s going to scare me with party tricks.”
I laughed. It cracked halfway out of my chest. “Wrong. But thanks for playing.”
I squeezed the trigger. A sharp stream of holy water nailed him dead center in the face.
He sputtered and cursed, jerking his head away.
“Every time you lie,” I said sweetly, “you get a bath.”
“I didn’t lie,” he snapped, blinking hard. “I don’t know you as anything except the crazy bitch from the shipping yard who killed all of my men.”
I shrugged one shoulder, pretending the admission didn’t slice through me. “Exactly.”
The overhead lights buzzed.
Flickered once.
Twice.
Cold rolled down my spine like someone had opened a freezer behind me. The air thickened, pressure tugging at the place under my ribs that had belonged to him since the moment he burned that first brand into my wrist.
“I was beginning to think you’d do this without me,” came a lazy drawl from the doorway.
Every nerve in my body lit up.
Lucifer stood at the threshold between kitchen and dining room, one shoulder propped against the frame like he’d been there for hours and only just decided to say something. Black shirt, open at the throat; sleeves rolled, exposing pale skin, and bright eyes cataloguing everything.
“It’s about time you showed up motherfucker,” I said, and my voice shook more than I wanted it to.
