Page 50 of The Devil's Waltz

I cross the living room toward the kitchen, but I pause at the violently graphic images that flash across my eyes. The largest, sharpest knife from the butcher block on my counter, slashed across her delicate, porcelain throat. Blood as black as her eyes spilling down the front of her deep purple blouse.

“Good morning, son.” Her regal yet melodic voice snaps my focus back to reality as I keep moving.

“Is it?” I ask, stopping beside her to press a chaste kiss to her cheek before I move around the counter into the kitchen. Her smoky lavender scent fills my senses, and I clench my jaw, unable to escape it. A smell that should bring me comfort—coming from my mother and only parent—turns my stomach.

“Hmm. You seem to have gotten yourself into quite the predicament.”

I cross my arms, leaning against the counter opposite the island where she’s perched. “So that’s why you’re sitting in my kitchen, drinking my coffee?”

She clicks her black painted nails against the side of her mug. “I am here, Xander, because you and Blake have been neglecting your communications.” She turns her head enough to glance toward the living room. “And where is he now?”

I shrug. “I don’t keep a leash on him, mother. He comes and goes as he pleases, and I’ve told you before he doesn’t live here.”

She huffs out an indignant sigh as she faces me again. “That will not do. Your name is on the top of every hunter hit list in the state, if not the country. As heir to my throne, you must have protection.”

A muscle ticks along my jaw, and I shove my thoughts toward the memory of Camille sitting in the spot my mother is currently occupying. That experience—cooking dinner for her, watching her fall asleep during the movie, simply being around her—was one of the best of my existence. Topped only by the night we shared in her bed.

“Mother—” I start.

“I will have Francesca take over if Blake cannot perform his duties.”

I bite back a growl. There’s not a chance she’s stepping foot in my apartment. “Fine. I’ll talk to him and let him know he needs to be here to wipe my ass.”

“Enough,” she snaps. “Do not forget who you are speaking to.”

How fucking could I?I swallow the bile in my throat and meet her sharp blue gaze. I can’t remember the last time she looked at me with even a hint of softness or care. Perhaps she never has. “My apologies,” I force out.

She nods, taking a sip of her coffee. “Now, we must discuss what we are going to do about that pesky little human.”

My eyes narrow a fraction as the hair on the back of my neck stands straight. “I’m doing what you want,” I say carefully.

“Not fast enough. And now that she knows who you really are, things need to progress quickly. I am moving up the timeline.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes and exhaling a sigh. “How do you expect to do that when the last interaction I had with her, she had just found out about me and my relation to you?” I don’t think I’ll ever get the look on her face out of my head. The raw disbelief and hurt that she felt. It made me sick, but it also called to the darkness inside me, who ate up every second of Camille’s misery like sweet candy.

Lucia offers an icy smile. “Figure it out, Xander. Use that charm of yours and do what needs to be done.”

I nod stiffly, because even if I hate it in the marrow of my bones, Iwilldo what’s necessary. It’s what I’ve told myself since the night Lucia shared her plan of using the hunters’ daughter to infiltrate the organization. Camille has always been a means to an end—the end of me being tortured by the queen of hell simply for existing with a soul.

It doesn’t matter that I’ll be ruining Camille. Taking everything she gave me and pretending to care for her.

Pretending?The twisted, demonic part of me cackles with amusement at what it perceives as a weak, pathetic lie. And there’s not a thing I can do to defend myself, because it’s right. At some point, whatever I was doing with Camille wasn’t an act anymore. At least, not all of it. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll see this plan through and then I’ll escape my mother’s clutches forever. I’ll flee to the other side of the world if it means I’ll be free of the monster who raised me.

Lucia stands, pinning me with one last look. “Go to her. You are running out of time, and my patience wears thin. You know the plan you agreed to.”

“I’m well aware,” I say firmly.

She looks as if she might say more, like hurl an insult my way or remind me of what a disappointment I am, but instead, she presses her lips together, inclining her head in a subtle nod. “Keep me apprised of all developments. I expect daily updates from here on out.”

I rake my fingers through my hair, still a mess from sleep, and exhale a sigh. “Is that entirely necessary?”

“Are you questioning me?”

She’ll leave faster if you’re more agreeable.

“Of course not,” I say in a forced but level tone.

“Good.” Between one moment and the next, her form shifts, fading into black smoke. It’s something only the oldest, most powerful demons can do. Lucia disappears from my sight in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a tightness in my chest and a storm of nausea in my stomach.

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