Lucifer straightened his cuffs like he’d just stepped out of a board meeting, not my murder spiral.
“I liked that one,” he said mildly, nodding at the broken body at my feet. “The twist. Very… decisive.”
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I snapped, chest heaving. “I killed you.”
“You did,” he agreed, lips twitching at the corners. “It was impressive. Therapeutic, even. Ten out of ten, dearest Dany. I’d let you do it again.” His gaze raked over me, the blood, the tears crusted on my cheeks. “But I did tell you, Dany. I will always come back for you.”
My lungs burned. Rage and relief and want tangled in my throat. Rage for his manipulation, relief and want because…
Fuck. I still didn’t want him to leave.
“You could have warned me about Joe,” I spat, one last effort to force an apology that I wasn’t sure I even wanted. I’d rather him own his shit than try to console me with half truths.. “You could’ve told me who he was. What he was doing. Instead you let me fall for Callen’s fucking son like some tragic after-school special.”
His expression didn’t soften but there was something almost like regret in the tilt of his frown.
“I did warn you,” he said quietly. “You simply didn’t want to listen. Free will, remember? Infuriating little experiment.”
I lunged, fisting his shirt and dragging him down until we were nose to nose. His breath was winter and whiskey, cutting through the copper in the air.
“You made me like this,” I hissed. “You and him. You broke me and then set me loose in your little murder sandbox.”
He hummed, low in his chest, eyes darkening as he looked at me like I was something carved just for him.
“And look how you shine,” he murmured.
A wet sob tore the moment apart.
It was small, muffled, and so full of terror it sliced through everything else like a razor.
My head snapped toward the sound.
The container.
The girls.
“Later,” I said, shoving his chest hard enough my palms stung. “I have people to save.”
I ran toward the container, stooping to yank a ring of keys from one of the guards cooling on the ground with a dead, wild-eyed stare.
Behind the metal doors, the whimpering intensified. Chains clinked. Someone choked on a sob.
My vision went red around the edges.
I jammed the key into the lock. It stuck once, twice, and I growled, bracing my boot against the door and wrenching until the mechanism screeched and gave.
The doors swung open on a stale, sour rush of air.
They were all huddled together, tears leaving tracks down their dirty faces. Sapphire’s hair hung in greasy red ropes around her face. Trinity’s chin jutted out like she could hold the whole world up with rage alone if she tried hard enough. Nova’s eyes were glassed over, fixed on some middle distance only she could see. Lola had her arms around a girl I didn’t know, fingers dug in so tightthey’d leave marks.
Caramel.
“Ivy?” she whispered, voice wrecked.
It hit me then, really hit, what Joe had done. What Callen had done. My girls. My fucking family. Lined up and shipped out like product.
My hands shook. I wanted to burn the whole world down. I wanted to cradle them and tell them I would fix it. I wanted to go back in time and tear Callen’s throat out the first night he touched me.
Instead, I knelt in the doorway, forcing my voice steady.
