Chapter Nineteen

Hawthorne

I fully expect to be bound, gagged and tortured by the two kidnappers. Instead, when I wake, I find myself in a lavishly decorated room with verdant green carpet and floral-patterned paper on the walls. The woman and man are sitting on a long chaise wrapped up together in a tangle of limbs as they read.

"Where am I?" I groan, stretching.

They glance my way, though neither set their books down. "You're in our home." The man grunts in disbelief. "Where else would you be?"

Sitting up fully, I furrow my brows in confusion. "Well, I suppose I thought you were going to kill me."

"No silly," the man says, though the woman's reply is, "We were."

What an odd couple. They certainly don't appear as though they should be in a relationship together.

"Then why am I here with all my limbs?" Sitting forward on what appears to be a floral sofa, I school my face to hide my utter confusion.

That has them each setting their books aside on the table. The woman immediately takes the lead in the conversation, sitting up, licking her cherry-red lips with a smirk. "Let's introduce ourselves first, shall we?"

The desire to roll my eyes lingers, but I am unsure of their mental states. At any moment, with any pretense, I feel the woman would take my head from my shoulders without a second thought. The man I am unsure of seems bored with my presence, as though I am here only to make the woman happy.

She slowly untangles her limbs from his, crossing the room toward me. Once she's in front of the sofa, she sits herself down with an ungraceful plop. "My name is Lilith. I am the mother of demons."

Lilith extends her hand for me to take. When I hesitate for a moment longer than she wishes, she grabs it, forcing my lips to the top of her hand. With a chuff of annoyance, she lets it go limp, mumbling under her breath. I scarcely believe she could be The Lilith, though she is certainly terrifying enough for the title.

The man, however, doesn't move from his place upon the chaise. His bored expression shifts briefly to one of curiosity as he looks down his nose at me. "I'm Luce."

"Honey, tell him your real name," she chides him with a saccharine lilt to her voice, as if she constantly needs to remind him to tell who he is. It's the way a mother speaks to a child when he must apologize for misbehaving.

"I'm Lucifer." He turns his hand over and over in a mock wave and rolls his eyes, annoyed with her. "The king of Hell."

My body goes rigid. I am in the presence of royalty, the king and queen of hell, and yet I had no idea. The power I sensed earlier immediately comes to mind; it's no wonder that it felt so suffocating.

"Oh, snookums, look at him!" Lilith snickers, patting at my thigh. "He's terrified."

Her constant belittling of me irritates my nerves; however, she's correct. I am utterly terrified of them. "Why am I here?" I stutter with shuddering breaths. My rough swallow echoes in the room, forcing my awareness of my anxiety. My palms are sweaty, sticking to the fabric of the couch as my hands dig in, searching for something to grasp.

Somehow, I find my voice, grateful my curiosity overtakes my desire to flee. I press them again, asking, "Why have you brought me here away from Aamon?"

Lilith hums, her gaze drifting over her nails as if this entire conversation is uninteresting, though I sense mild frustration simmering under her fa?ade. I suspect she wishes she could be the one to announce my purpose here. Lucifer, on the other hand, shifts slightly, straightening his posture with an air of superiority, his shoulders squaring like a king.

"I don't want to scare you," he begins with a low voice. "Truth be told, we wanted to end your life." His gaze burns into mine as he leans forward. "Humans are clearly not my favorite things, daddy issues and all of that. Still, once we heard word of Aamon's… little plaything, we grew rather concerned.."

Lilith cuts him off with a playful tone accompanied by a smirk. "The last one turned out to be a big cunt."

That brings my anxiety to a new height, flavored with a twinge of jealousy. Of course, I can't be the only one Aamon lured here under false pretenses. My heart skitters to a halt. I force myself to school my features into that of indifference, but truly I feel disappointment holding my heart captive. The Marquis couldn't even bother to come rescue me, allowing these two to take me without the slightest effort.

"I do not quite understand what that has to do with me." I exhale the breath I'm holding. They enjoy the dramatics of things, it appears, and are toying with me in order to keep me frightened of them.

"It has nothing to do with you." Lilith gives a tiny pat to my thigh once again. "Instead, we realized how helpful you truly can be."

Lucifer nods in agreement. "Most provinces are having similar issues. The food sources are struggling more than we care to admit. I may be the man with the plan down here, but, unfortunately, like the human world, we too deal with drought, pestilence and death."

Lilith turns her body toward me, her voice dropping to a sly whisper as if someone may overhear. "We need your help, and Aamon would rather die than share you. His plan is to manipulate your shared pact for his own advantage."

There are many things I believe about Aamon. At one time, I truly believed he was not above manipulation. Now I realize he has a fondness for his people and me. Every instinct in me screams to defend him, but the possibility of speaking up doing more harm than good makes me think remaining silent is to my advantage. Lucifer and Lilith appear to have a disdain for Aamon. If they feel I am not essential to him, then perhaps that increases my chance of survival.