Fallen Reign (Se7en Sinners Book 4) Page 6

  “Done,” I call out quietly after slipping on the soft leggings and oversized sweatshirt. He even included undergarments and cozy socks. Sometimes I swear he can read my mind.

  Nikolai spins slowly, as if he’s afraid to spook me. “Better?”

  I nod. “Better. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Are you tired? “

  “No. I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. I just keep thinking about…” I shake my head. “It felt too real. Like I wasn’t just dreaming it. It was as if I was here but I was there too.”

  “And you think it’s Legion or The Many who took you wherever you were?”

  “I don’t know. The first time it happened, I thought maybe it was me that was mentally reaching out for him, trying to find him.”

  “Wait…it’s happened before?”

  “Yes. But this time…it was much, much worse.”

  He leads me to the sitting room and we raid the mini fridge, which is thankfully stocked with overpriced booze and snacks, and I describe the bar in my dream. Then, somehow, after not enough food and a tiny bottle of Jack, I tell him about that hallway with the ugly yellow wallpaper with pink flowers.

  “The Se7en think we’re in Detroit. That demonic symbol has been popping up everywhere, so we split up, hoping he’ll turn up. Legion has only been gone two days. There’s no way he could have done all this alone.”

  “But maybe there are lesser demons acting on his behalf,” Niko muses. He rips open a bag of peanut M&Ms and pours them out on the mirrored coffee table.

  “That’s what we’re thinking. But that would mean he could have been conspiring with them this entire time. Do you really think he’s capable of betraying us all?” My stomach knots as I wonder about our time together. Was that really him? Or something else?

  “You have to remember—Legion was most likely clueless about what was going on. I don’t believe he would do that to the Se7en, or to you. And if somehow The Many had been plotting unbeknownst to him, it couldn’t have been for long.”

  I pluck up a blue M&M and pop it into my mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “The Legion of Lost Souls was awakened the night The Alliance took you. Before then, The Many had been suppressed. They weren’t powerful enough to overtake Legion, even without his power.”

  “So if The Many were conspiring with any lesser rebels, it had to have been after he regained the power from the amulet.”

  “And where were we after that night?” Niko lifts a brow, urging me to realize what we should have known from the beginning.

  “Irin. You think she would support a demon rebellion? Given her stance on violence?” I don’t dare to mention why Irin’s beliefs go against the theory that she would be involved.

  “No. But she has many members of her staff who could be easily seduced to do their bidding. We all saw how they threw themselves at Lucifer. Who’s to say they weren’t interested in more than just pleasure?”

  I shake my head. “He’d never be involved in something like this. He wants to put a stop to this as much as the Se7en do.”

  “And you trust him?”

  “I don’t really have much choice, do I?” I shrug. “All I know is that he was there. After Grant Park, after my dreams…he was there.”

  Niko solemnly casts his azure gaze down to the floor, so I quickly tack on, “Just like you would have been there if you knew what was happening.”

  He doesn’t look at me when he mutters, “Is that why you’re here with him? Because I wasn’t?”

  “No,” I reply earnestly, hoping he believes it. “You are my friend, Niko. I care about you. Lucifer is…Lucifer is a necessary evil.”

  “I get that.” He uncaps a tiny bottle of scotch and downs it in one swig. “Just…just be careful, baby girl. He may be nice to look at, but there’s nothing but rot and death underneath the façade.”

  I smile, and for the first time in a long time, it’s genuine. “You’re nice to look at too.”

  He laughs, then leans forward to leave a kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to stay close. I have a house nearby, so I’m only a call away. Gabs and Dorian are in Skiathos but I may summon them. If something’s going down in my city, I need to be here.”

  “Your city?”

  He grins crookedly, nostalgia gleaming in his gaze. “Used to be. I ruled for decades until…well, let’s just say my exit was not by choice. But in many ways, my heart is still very much here.”

  I nod, understanding. “Amelie.”

  His grin stretches wider. “She came from a long line of New Orleans witches who once controlled all magic in the city. My father felt that their coven had grown too powerful, and sent me here to abolish it. I was good at my job and good at taking what I wanted from them and anyone who stood in my way. Until I met Amelie.” The light in his eyes dims a fraction. “They blame me for her death, and I don’t begrudge them that. So I turned New Orleans back over to them. For now.”

  We decide to flip on the TV to steer the conversation to other, less heartbreaking subjects, and I’m thankful for the distraction. Talking to Niko makes me feel like myself again. I’ve been afraid before—I know what real fear is. But what happened in that bathroom cannot be easily forgotten. And if I am to do the impossible and face every terrible, disturbing act of violence that The Many have planned for us, then I need to suck it up and move forward.

  “That’s odd,” Niko remarks.

  I turn the volume up on the national news channel and tune in. I’ve been out of the loop for so long that I had forgotten about the usual corruption our world was already wrought with. Political depravity, sexual abuse scandals, wars for profit… humanity is already doomed on its own. Maybe The Many can’t hurt us more than we’ve already hurt ourselves.

  We listen intently to a story about a new flu strain that’s sweeping the West Coast. People are dying. Schools are closing in fear of spreading it further. The flu shot has been deemed useless, and the CDC is at a complete loss as to what to do to combat it.

  “Fuck,” I spit. “Demons are literally running wild and now people have to worry about the flu?”

  “It’s messed up,” Niko remarks. “And the angels aren’t intervening.”

  “Would that be any better? The farther they are from Earth, the better. They’ve proven that they have their own agenda when it comes to mankind.”

  “Yeah, but these people are innocent. Kids are dying. Someone has to take responsibility.”

  “And someone will.”

  His voice is so haunting that I literally yelp with fright before turning to find Lucifer standing right behind us.

  “Holy shit! Where did you come from?”

  He ignores my question and stalks to the loveseat, his eyes glued to the screen. His clothes are pristine, as always, not at all stained with the blood that had transferred onto his crisp white shirt from my skin. Not a hair out of place and no indication of harm. I can’t help it, but I sigh with relief. He’s been gone for hours, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had called him away. Whatever it was, whatever it is, it’s still plaguing him.

  “It’s starting,” he murmurs, still not meeting my eyes.

  “What’s starting?” I question. “What’s going on?”

  He slowly turns to finally look at me and I see that his violet, sparkling gaze is churning with swirls of obsidian and his alabaster skin has gone ashen.

  “Lucifer…” I whisper, the fear creeping back in. “What is it?”

  His tone is as cold and dark as death.

  “Pestilence.”

  Nikolai doesn’t waste any time. He dematerializes into a plume of dark grey vapor right before our eyes before Lucifer or I can stop him. He must know what this already means. As for me, I’m still frozen with shock.

  Pestilence.

  How? Why?

  We have a horde of lesser demons and Legion to deal with. How on Earth can we singlehandedly take down something straight out of the pages of Revelations?


  “Are you telling me…?” It sounds so bizarre that I can’t even finish my thought.

  “Pestilence, the White Rider,” Lucifer explains. “The first of the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse.”

  Holy shit.

  HOLY SHIT.

  “But…how? They can’t be real, can they? Do you think Legion has unleashed them?”

  Lucifer shakes his head. “Pestilence has always been out. Deactivated, but walks freely.”

  “And who could have activated him? Or it? Or…whatever?”

  “Only someone with great dark power. The greatest dark power. Me.”

  I frown. “Are you saying you did this?”

  He shakes his head. “I would never. I have nothing to gain from triggering the apocalypse. I’ve taken necessary precautions to avoid it, in fact.”

  “Then who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Shit. Shit.

  I don’t know is not something you want the Devil to say when talking about the end of the fucking world.

  “Well, can’t you stop it? Put him back?”

  Another shake of his head. “I can only hope the other Horsemen are not triggered.”

  “Hope? You want to rely on hope? Lucifer, this flu epidemic is killing people! And spreading faster than anything anyone has ever seen!” I climb to my feet, needing to do something—anything—to keep from screaming. “Maybe we should call the Se7en. Certainly, they’ve realized that we’ve fallen off the grid and aren’t in Detroit. Maybe they can help.”

  “No. Calling them would only worsen the situation. We need to keep them out of this.”

  He also stands and turns towards his room. I’m right on his heels.

  “But there are only two of us. We can’t do all this alone. Lucifer, just listen to reason. If we all set out to find Pestilence, maybe we can find Legion.”

  “No.”

  “We can’t just do nothing! Do they even know what’s happening? We need help!”

  “I said no, Eden.”

  “Fuck it. I don’t care what you said. I’m calling Cain. He’ll know—”

  Lucifer spins faster than my Nephilim eyes can track him and grips my sweatshirt, shoving me against the nearest wall. The back of my head collides with the rigid plaster hard enough to crack my teeth together and send a throbbing ache to radiate throughout my skull.

  “I said no,” he seethes just centimeters from my face. “I don’t give a fuck about dying humans. I don’t give a fuck about the Se7en. And I sure as hell don’t give a fuck about what you think we should and shouldn’t do. You are my concern. That’s it. That’s all that fucking matters. So you can curse me. You can hate me. But at the end of the day, you know that I would let this world burn to ashes to keep you safe.”

  I’m left stunned, frozen against the wall, as Lucifer turns and stalks into his bedroom, leaving me to watch the door slam behind him.

  Seconds, maybe minutes, later, my heart rate slows and I’m able to blink again. I push off from the wall and walk back into the sitting area. Frustrated with myself for not challenging him, I flop onto the black leather sofa and snatch up the remote, turning the volume up to drown out my thoughts.

  I hate him. I hate him, yet, dammit, I get him. Because if it were me, and I had the power to do it all over again and shield Legion from The Many’s influence, I’d do whatever it took. But that still doesn’t explain Lucifer’s devotion to my safety. Maybe he feels guilty for infecting me with the Calling when I was just a fetus to ensure I landed on the Se7en’s kill list. Or maybe it’s all the bullshit afterward—dream-fucking me during a powder room orgy, ramming me with an armored car, tying me up with angel venom-soaked rope, manipulating me into going to Hell, making me watch as he maimed and tortured people for his enjoyment night after night after night—that he still feels bad about. However, I can’t see the Devil regretting any of that. In fact, I’d assume that’s pretty par for the course for him.

  I flip through the channels, not wanting any more news to fuel my nightmares and land on Food Network. I instantly think of Sister. I remember one weekend some time ago, she got the bright idea to play Chopped at home. Here we were, in this tiny, dilapidated apartment, trying to turn Ramen noodles, canned ham, and Doritos into gourmet fare. We died laughing, and even though our masterpieces were inedible, I would trade all the fancy food, private jets, and luxurious hotel suites for just one more day like that with her.

  She’ll never forgive me for not saying goodbye. I had time—I could have gone to see her as soon as we returned from Grant Park. I could have insisted we delay our travel so I could creep into her hospital suite. But I was selfish, and instead of doing the right thing, I guarded my heart, knowing that it would break me all over again to walk away from my big sister, the only family I have left.

  I refuse myself the anguished tears and focus all my energy on keeping my eyelids open. I don’t want to sleep. Sleeping will conjure the monsters. I’ve been plagued by fire and by blood. What’s next? Eaten alive by locusts? Given the fact that Pestilence has risen, I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up covered in oozing, pus-filled boils.

  I’m not sure how it happens, but in one blink, I’m staring at Bobby Flay going toe-to-toe with a contender chef. In the next, I’m groggily stirring awake to find that it’s dark and I’ve been covered with a warm, fleece blanket. But I don’t dream. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

  Morning comes much too soon, and I’m awoken by the sounds of my temporary suitemate rudely, and quite obnoxiously, clearing his throat.

  I’ve barely rubbed the sleep out of my eyes when he sighs heavily and proclaims, “I’m bored. Wake up.”

  I blink, stretching my arms above my head. “What the…” I force my eyelids open to take in my surroundings. I’m still in the sitting area, still on the couch, still dressed (thank God), and Lucifer is propped up on the arm of the sofa, literally inches from my face. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “Come on, Eden. You’ve been sleeping all day. Are you pregnant or something?”

  “What the hell, Lucifer,” I yawn, covering my face with the blanket. “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon.”

  “Noon?” I sit straight up and turn to look out the window. Sure as shit, it’s daylight. I felt like I just fell asleep thirty minutes ago.

  “Yes. Who sleeps that late anyway? I would have thought you were dead had it not been for the snoring.”

  “You only say that because you don’t sleep. And I don’t snore.”

  “Ha! You do. And you drool a little too.”

  I look for something to throw at him, but he swiftly stands and strolls to peer out the window. “I want to show you New Orleans. Get dressed.”

  “You’re kidding me, right? You want to go sightseeing?” I scoff incredulously. “First you disappear and don’t tell me what you’re doing. Then you drop the Pestilence bomb on me. And then you push me against the wall and pretty much tell me you don’t give a fuck what I want or what I think.” I run a hand through my wild, matted silver mane. “We aren’t here to see the city, Lucifer. We’re here to find Legion. So unless you’ve got a lead, my happy ass will be parked right here.”

  “First of all, I was cleaning up your bathroom—you’re welcome, by the way—and finding out how the hell someone or something breached the wards around the hotel. And second…there is no Pestilence bomb. That would be War.”

  I roll my tired eyes. “And my third point?”

  “I was caught up in the moment. Sue me,” he shrugs. “What if we case the city and enjoy the sights at the same time? Would that unknot your cotton, clearance bin panties?”

  “You’re unbelievable,” I huff, climbing to my feet.

  “I know. So now can you get dressed? And please…do something about that breath. Definitely one of the least charming facets of your humanity.”

  This time I’m prepared, and I chuck a decorative throw pillow at his face. Of course, he catches it before it can disturb a single hair
on his head. Frustrated at how freaking perfect he looks and what a mess I must be, I trudge to my bedroom before he can fling any more insults at the expense of my mortality.

  “And hurry! I’m starved,” he calls at my back.

  I flip him off, even though my stomach growls at the mere mention of food.

  Just as he said, the room is clean, with not even a speck of blood to be found. I should say thank you, but that would only make him gloat more. Plus, I have to admit that super intense Lucifer scares me. Buoyant, arrogant Lucifer is annoying, yet tolerable.

  I quickly freshen up and dress, anxious to get something more than overpriced bar snacks in my belly. When I step out into the common area, Lucifer makes a face.

  “What?” I look down at my jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers, one of the very few non-bedazzled, normal outfits that I was able to smuggle from Irin’s.

  “Don’t you own anything that doesn’t scream I buy my clothes from DICK’S Sporting Goods? We’re in New Orleans, Eden. Not Newark.”

  I put a fist on my hip. “You wanna go or do you want to just stand here and insult me all day? Because I’m sure I can scrounge up a sock with a hole in it.”

  “I kid, I kid,” he laughs, waving me off. He makes his way to me with elegant strides and extends the crook of his elbow. “May I have the honor of showing you around, mi’lady?”

  I eye the offered arm and snort. “First food. The rest is still debatable.”

  We take the elevator down without incident and step out onto the sidewalk.

  “Should we get a cab?”

  Lucifer shakes his head. “This is N’awlins, baby. Good food is on every corner. Come on.”

  Even early in the day, the city is bustling with bead-wearing, bar-hopping tourists decked out in rich jewel tones and Saints jerseys. I let Lucifer lead me through the fray as he maneuvers through the hordes of people popping in and out of restaurants and shops.

  “How are the streets already this crowded?” I shout as we pass a brass band.

  “This is nothing. We need to come back during Mardi Gras. Best party on Earth.”

  I don’t miss the we in his statement, but I don’t bother to address it either. He knows that could never—would never—happen, and if we’re not successful, there won’t ever be another Mardi Gras.