Chapter 19

Nineteen

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Lucien and I were alone… despite being surrounded by people. We were in a restaurant, a busy place somewhere in Beacon Hill. I wasn't exactly sure where, since I didn't really know my way around the city, but I figured Diaboli's men would find us eventually. For now, Lucien and I could finally just talk.

Talk without fear of listening devices.

Talk without fear of his father.

Talk without fear of anyone knowing the truth about us.

"I can't believe we haven't even had a chance to hash it out properly yet," I said.

Though Lucien was sitting across from me at a small table in the back of the restaurant, his eyes were miles away. He seemed to be unable to stop himself from looking at the door, checking for his father's men.

"Hash what out?" he asked, giving me his attention, if only for a moment.

"Would you stop worrying? If they show up, they show up."

"Right…" he nodded. "What haven't we hashed out yet?"

"That we knew each other before we met."

"I'm surprised you've been able to keep it a secret."

"I've been locked in a room for days on end, mostly left to my own devices. You're the one constantly under your father's eye. If anyone should be surprised, it should be me."

"You thought I would crack?"

I paused. "I thought you would just tell him, if I'm being totally honest."

He frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"The same reason you gave him my amulet."

"I would never have given him that amulet if I had known what he was going to do with it."

I shook my head. "I believe you, okay? I really do. We don't need to get into that whole conversation. The more distance I can put between myself and it the better. I only meant that, what are the odds you would turn out to be… you… and I would turn out to be me?"

Lucien's eyes darkened. "Do you think I did this on purpose? Somehow set events up to unfold the way that they have?"

"Did you?"

"I didn't have a clue who you were, what your last name was, or that you… were like me. I only knew that you, out of everyone in that club, were the one who set my skin alight. You were the one who ignited this… this thing inside of me."

I swallowed. "Thing?"

"I don't know how to explain it. But I had never wanted anyone more than I wanted you, and once I had you, I had to keep having you. Again, and again, and again. It became a need, an insatiable desire. I don't know what you did to me."

Heat.

Panic.

I went for my glass of water and took a sip to cool off. This conversation had gotten away from me already, and we hadn't even started. "Right," I said, setting the drink down. "Well… uh, we should probably never talk about that again because, uh, that's not what we should be talking about."

Lucien's eyebrows arched slightly. "A solid sentence. Made perfect sense."

"Whatever. Let's talk about what we should be talking about."

"Which is?"

"The two elephants currently not in the room. We know they're going to find us. Do you have a plan on how to make them… not find us?"

He shook his head. "I don't."

"Do you have a plan for getting us away from your father at all?"

"It's… not as easy as that."

"What if we just left this restaurant, grabbed a car, and left the city?"

"Beatrice—"

"—Lucien, I can't go back to that house. I won't be a prisoner again."

"I don't want you to be a prisoner."

"Then help me get away, like you said you would."

"I will."

"When?"

"Look," he paused, took a deep breath, and sighed. "My father wants us to do this for him. He wants the crown."

"And?"

"I think we should get it for him."

My eyes narrowed. "Why should we do that? You saw what he did the last time he came into possession of a magical artifact. For all you know that crown will be the vehicle for his next murder spree."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Lucien, you can't be serious… he wants us to break into a Recondite temple and steal a piece of magical hardware for him—an artifact that we have no idea what it does, and have taken it at face value that it once belonged to your family. I don't think he expects either of us to come back; definitely not me."

"He needs you."

"For now. What if that crown somehow allows him to get into my family vault? By getting it for him, we're giving him another way to get what he wants, and then he doesn't need me anymore. Are you going to stop him from killing me?"

Lucien's eyes darkened. He glanced at the door.

"Look at me," I said.

He gave me his attention again. "I won't let him hurt you," he said.

Despite the tingles rippling through my stomach at the words he'd just said, I held my composure and my ground. "We can't do this for him. We have to leave, now, and get as far away from him as possible."

"I wish it was that simple."

"Why isn't it that simple?"

"Because you don't know my father, Beatrice. If we leave right now, right this very second, maybe we make it out of the city—maybe we even make it out of the country. But trust me. He will hunt us down, and he will not stop until we're found. You, me, even Max if we manage to find him, the three of us will be watching over our shoulders every second of every day, just like I'm doing right now. Do you really want to live like that?"

"We'll use magic. We'll use the amulet; we can stay way ahead of him."

"And maybe that'll work for a while, but he'll find a way. You have to believe me."

"So, what… we have to get that crown for him and hope it's not a death sentence for me?"

"It won't be. It can't be. You said yourself, your family's wards are powerful; the only way into the vault is with that amulet."

"As far as I know, but I'm not an expert or anything."

"We have to believe that's true, and we have to believe he thinks that's true."

"That still leaves us possibly dying while trying to steal a magical artifact for him. And then what? Even if he can't use it to get into the vault. What's the plan?"

Lucien glanced at the door again. "I need to figure out how to get away without him hunting us down."

"Not to sound insensitive, but it seems like the only way that's happening is if he's dead." I paused. "Actually, no, I am going to be insensitive. It would be way better if he was dead. Let's do that."

He looked at me again, only by the look on his face, I didn't think he had liked the suggestion. "I can't do that," he said.

And there it was.

Simple confirmation.

Lucien wasn't anything like Mason Diaboli. Short of killing his father, it didn't sound like there was a way for us to escape, and Lucien was either unwilling or unable. I supposed I couldn't blame him for the situation he was in. Even if I had witnessed my father commit cold blooded murder right in front of me, I doubted if I would be able to enact any sort of justice.

My father was my father. The man that raised me, changed my diapers, played with me when I was young, sang me to sleep when I was scared. Watching him do something terrible wouldn't have been enough to make me want to kill him.

Whilst I couldn't imagine Mason being anywhere near the gentle, supportive, and loving parent that my own father was, I didn't think Lucien was any more capable of patricide than I was.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling like I had made a mistake.

He shook his head. "You don't have to be," he said.

"No, I do. I'm sitting here, running my mouth about murder… I'm not like this. I've never been like this. Before now, I had never even thrown a punch, let alone consider stabbing someone in the throat with a letter opener."

Lucien's eyes widened. "When did that happen?"

"The night I was brought to your house… I saw it on a table. I was going to grab it and use it on your mom."

"Carla isn't my mom."

Ah. I guess that made sense.

"Right…" I paused, unsure of how to proceed at this point. "And, your mom?"

"I don't think now is a good time for that conversation."

I nodded, mind spinning to find something, anything, to say that would break the tension.

He glanced at the door again, only this time it was to hide something I had briefly glimpsed in his eyes. Sadness? No, pain. There was pain in there, somewhere.

"So…" I ventured. "We do this for your father, try not to die… then what?"

"I'm working on that."

"Care to fill me in?"

"As soon as I have something to work with, I'll let you know." He turned his gaze on me again. "I promise."

And there, in that moment, I found myself doubting him again. I couldn't shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, Lucien was using me to do his family's bidding. He was, after all, still a Diaboli, and that had to mean something to him. It probably meant more to him than the life of the girl he had been fucking in the club once upon a time.

The girl that had ended things with him because she hadn't wanted to get too attached.

I'm in trouble.

We ate in silence, after that. The food was delicious, but I found myself not being able to stomach too much of it. My mind was elsewhere, my thoughts scattered to the four winds. Here I was, sitting in a restaurant with the son of a rival family, placing all of my eggs firmly in his basket, hoping he would find a way to get me out of the mess I was in.

That… I couldn't do that anymore.

I couldn't put all of my trust in his hands, because if it turned out he was just trying to use me, or manipulate me, then I was dicked, and not in the good way. I needed to take control of the situation, somehow, and find a way to increase my chances of escape all on my own.

When we were done eating, we headed outside into the crisp, Bostonian night, and walked back toward the hotel. It wasn't long before we ran into the two morons who had been trying to find us ever since we gave them the slip.

Or maybe they had been waiting all along, on Lucien's orders.

I suddenly found myself entirely out of my depth. I still wasn't sure whether I could trust Lucien or not. It didn't help that there were times when I couldn't read him at all, when I had no idea what he was thinking.

The best thing I could do right now was keep him where I could see him, while also keeping him at arm's length.

A prospect that instantly shattered the moment we returned to the hotel room and I found myself staring at the bed we were going to have to share tonight. That… was going to be way closer than arm's length.

That… was going to be a problem.