Page 62 of The Devil In Blue
Father Eli’s words echoed in my head. The way he said she called for me. How she wished I would come for her. How she allowed herself to forget only to save her from a fate that I could not rescue her from.
Had I known the truth, I would have cursed all the laws of the realms. I would have found a way to cross plains—to defy the order of things—to pull her from that hell. And I would take whatever punishment the universe bestowed on me if it meant she was safe.
Instead, I had been gullible and foolish.
My nose twitched when I caught a familiar scent. Briar’s scent. I followed her flowery smell up worn steps to a second floor, only it was leading me further up a narrow corridor and into a small room at the very top of the manor’s tower. It overlooked orchards and the ugly cathedral in town. A large chest sat at the foot of the bed, the lid open like someone had recently sifted through it. A white dress was draped over the lid and when I touched it, I could smell his filth all over it. His sweat. His spend. I bared my teeth and hissed, tossing the over-worn fabric.
He’d fucked her in that dress. How many times, I didn’t know. Sickness rolled inside me again.
Good. I was going to use it. I deserved to feel every ounce of it until the day I was dust.
Walking around the bed, I smelled Briar on the sheets. On the pillow. I saw her sorrowful strokes on a painting of an apple tree near the window. A stack of dusty books sat on the nightstand and another was on a desk opposite the bed.
She did love to read.
After exploring her tight, drab confines and finding myself wound up with more emotions than I wanted to ever experience, I found myself standing in front of that window. I stared at the view that I was certain Briar stared at every day during her time with the wicked Lucien. Even with a broken mind, I knew in my gut that she would have wanted to look into the world and imagine what she’d do if she was ever truly free to explore it.
My breath trembled at the thought. The rage was building, one fiery drop at a time, waiting for Lucien to return. I would wait until the Glyn ripped me back from the mortal plane if I had to. And I would wait in front of that window where my Briar once stood, breathing in the filthy air of the realm that stole her from me. The realm that had twisted her and cut her up into tiny, discernable pieces, all for greed. All for the fae bloodI’dgiven her.
Guilt had a bitter taste, like blood and acid combined, and I used it to stoke the flames of my wrath when I heard the door downstairs creek open.
He was home.
The day was late. The house was dim. Lucien’s manor was far off the beaten path, isolated from prying ears. Silently, I glided downstairs and sat myself at a long dining table in what was clearly Lucien’s seat. I heard two voices. A woman and the snake himself. When the woman came into the dining room and headed for a few lanterns to give the room light, I waited, watching her plump form waddle around.
She was just a servant. Guiltless, I suspected, and likely better off without her employer. When she lit the first lantern and the light passed over me, she gasped, nearly leaping out of her skin when she saw me lounging in her master’s chair. Quietly, I raised a finger to my lips and she clamped her mouth shut. Lucien entered the room behind her, holding his pocket watch in one hand like he was tight on time.
“Mr. Tilken said they’ll continue questioning—”
He choked on the rest of the sentence when he saw me and froze. It took everything in me not to stand and lunge forward to rip out his throat, but that was too easy. I recalled his sickly face at the masquerade. Naeve had been kind enough to put mushroom powder in his drink, ensuring he’d be out of the way most of the night while I circled my prey. At the time, it was Briar. Now, I wished I’d focused on Lucien.
“Who are you?” he demanded, looking me up and down.
I remained seated and looked once more at the help. “Go on,” I said softly. “Tell your peelers that Baron Van Lock is dead.”
“What?” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.
“You heard me.” My eyes went back to Lucien, watching them round in fear. “You found him, mutilated on the floor of his estate.”
“I—”
“Now,” I cut her off.
She quickly spun and sprinted out the door.
As I suspected. She held no love for him. Who ever could?
Lucien tried to follow, but as soon as he moved, I was behind him. I gripped his throat, pulling him up and off his feet before slamming him down onto the dining table. Candlesticks crashed to the floor and the noise made the woman yelp as she scurried out of the house. I could hear her muffled voice screaming for help as she ran. Hearing it made Lucien scream for help as well. I would have covered his mouth to conceal the shrill noise, but I loved it. So, instead, I soaked it all in, smiling maniacally.
“Scream,” I snarled. “Scream all you want.” I grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him toward me, eyes glowing with hatred. “Lucien Van Lock.” I emphasized every word with disgust before moving my nose over his face, taking in the stink of tobacco and bourbon. “Do you know who I am?”
“Y—You’re him. The one they said would come for her.”
“So, you don’t know. Not really.”
“I—I—”
“How did you get Briar in the first place? Did you see a young woman alone and snatch her up? A young woman like her must have looked perfect for the taking.”
