Page 29 of Broken Shadows (Corrupt Shadows Duet #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Lorcan

I cannot hide a glare as I exhale a tense breath. Evangeline stands in front of me, taller than Evie’s short stature, but still five inches shorter than me. She smells like musk, death, and lilies—all the trappings of a funeral. “Samuel tells me you’ve fallen for the witch, but we both know you don’t have a heart.”

I don’t stop her when she walks her fingers up my chest, at least until she reaches my throat. I grab her fingers and gnash my teeth. “Touch me again and you’ll lose those fingers.”

She laughs but recoils her hand. “Your threats don’t scare me. Your father will never let anything happen to me.”

“He’d never hurt his son, either.”

She smiles. “You’re right, but I’ve been whispering sweet, poisonous little lies into his ear for years. He thinks you abandoned him. That you hated him. It broke his heart.” She pouts and bats her long lashes. “You should have seen him.”

A growl rumbles in my chest. “Enough! I know it’s impossible to reason with a fucking insane person, but—”

“Insane?” Shaking her head, she turns from me to stare out the window. “You still take no responsibility for what you did to me, do you?”

“You got your revenge. I was locked in the Shadow Realm for a godsdamn century.”

Her palms lay flat on the stone windowsill as she hunches over, her spine misaligned at an odd angle. Her body quakes as she sucks in a lungful of air, and I grip the back of a chair. “You were never supposed to be locked in there in the first place!” She spins to face me, her head tilted at an almost inhuman angle before she straightens herself out. “You forced me to lock you in there after you betrayed me.”

“I used you, just like you’re using Samuel and my dad.”

She runs her long, ringed fingers through her dark, dull strands and lifts her gaze to me mine. “Well, you know the saying. If you can’t beat them, join them.”

“You’re fucking psychotic,” I say, realizing being nice isn’t going to work. Lying about my intentions won’t either because of one fucked up truth—she’s still in love with me. I can see it in her dilated pupils and the way she keeps floating closer to me as if she’s magnetically drawn into my orbit.

“Thank you,” she hisses. “Are you impressed?”

I scoff. “Do you want me to call you a good girl?”

Her brown eyes alight with gold. “You’re more playful now. I thought all that time in solitude would destroy your spirit. Or was it my great niece? Did she warm the cockles of your empty heart?”

I grimace. “No.”

“Good,” she whispers, then glides her hand up my arm without actually touching me. “I wonder what she’ll do to you when I tell her you’re using her like you did me? How did you convince her, by the way?” she asks, drawing closer. “That what I wrote in the grimoire wasn’t true? She must have believed you because she destroyed the portal.”

I’m just so fucking glad she doesn’t think I care about Evie, else my witch would be in genuine danger.

I tilt my head. The purple flames from the torches on the wall flickering in her mad stare. “You Fallenmoore witches always were so damn gullible.”

She brings her face closer to mine, then spits, “I don’t believe you. I know you’ve been protecting the witch.”

“I’m not.”

“Then prove it,” she hisses, her fingers dancing into the ruffles of her white dress. “Kiss me.”

“I’d rather tear out my tongue,” I snarl, and she swallows thickly. “I don’t want her, or you.”

“You will never see your dad,” she replies with a shake of her head as she steps out of my proximity. “He’s mine and for as long as he is, I’ll never let you know peace for what you did to me. You destroyed my life.” Tears gloss her eyes, and I realize she doesn’t recall how she treated me. No, she just remembers the bad things I did to her. “You pretended to be my friend. You made me love you, and then you tossed me aside like I was nothing.”

I lean in and whisper, “And does Samuel or my dad know about that?”

She shakes her head. “They know we were friends, and you threatened me.”

I chuckle darkly. “You’ve left out quite a bit.”

Her smile wavers, lips quivering as she attempts to pull herself together, but she can’t rid herself of the twitch in her eye. Perhaps she convinced herself that seeing me after all this time would be easier. She wipes the single tear trickling down her cheek onto the back of her hand and sniffs. “I won’t let you break me again. I died because of you, because I had to lock you away after you refused to… well, you pretended to love me.”

“I never did that,” I snap. “I used your friendship, yes, but I never showed that I was fucking interested.”

“You did.”

“You invented an entire convoluted romance in your head,” I yell, placing my fingers to my temples. “You were a fucking anchor around my neck, Eva. I didn’t care about you then, and I sure as fuck don’t care about you now.”

She juts her chin. An icy coolness seeps into her expression before the mask of apathy returns. Except now she looks as evil as Samuel, with pointed, dark eyes.

A waft of spicy cinnamon and rich, buttery dough pinches the air around my nose. At first, I think someone must have lit a candle, until I hear clashing in the next room of metal trays hitting the ground.

Dad’s voice filters through the door. “Bugger it, damned things.”

The door opens and Lucifer walks in, a tray in one hand, a second on the floor, with cinnamon buns everywhere.

He hasn’t aged a day in the last century. In fact, he looks a few years younger than I remember.

Patches of flour douse the dark curls against his forehead, and cling to his gray and black trimmed beard. His silver eyes—a hallmark of an angel, even a fallen one—meet mine. Placing the buns that didn’t fall on the table, he extends his arms out in a warm gesture as he walks to me.

My eyes widen, fear piercing through my veins as he pulls me into a hug. A fucking cuddle.

“My boy,” he says, patting me on the back. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon cling to the flowery apron of lilies and black dahlias, covering his white shirt and black pants. “One of my demons told me you’d returned to court. I didn’t believe it, but here you are.”

Evangeline forces a smile, putting several feet between me and her. “Hi, my love. I was just coming to tell you your son was here.”

He waves a hand in her direction. “Get my other sons, Darling. We’re going to have a ball tonight.”

She sucks in a deep breath, holds it, then says with forced cloying, “Another ball?”

“Of course. It’s a celebration. All my sons are back home, where they belong.” He steps back to get a proper look at me, and I hold still, not sure what to say or do. “I’d worried we’d lost you to the Human Realm for good.”

My brows quirk up behind my mask, my eyes flitting from him to Evangeline. Did he really believe I was in the Human Realm this entire time?

My brain fritzes, quickly catching up after struggling to process him just walking in on us. “Evangeline said you were not to be disturbed.”

“That was Samuel,” she adds quickly. “We know you’ve been so busy, working on your project.”

“Cinnamon buns,” he announces. “I had the perfect recipe some centuries ago but lost it somewhere in the Human Realm.” He shakes his head. “No matter, no matter. My oldest son has finally returned.”

He wraps me in another hug, and this time I allow it, fold into it, and close my eyes. Every crevice of my chest aches. Ever since Evie cracked it open, it’s like I can’t force the desire of more than lust out of it.

It’s fucking painful to love. It hurts so godsdamn much that I want to tear the organ out of its bone prison.

He pulls away again, tousling my hair. “I hope you’re planning on staying this time. I know I’ve no right to expect it,” he says with an arched, dark brow, “and I know a century is nothing to us, but you could have sent a letter. I’ve missed you.”

My throat tightens. “I’ve missed you too, Dad.” I pause, evaluating his face. He really knows nothing. “We need to talk. I wasn’t in the Human Realm the whole time.”

“We will catch up tonight,” he promises, and grabs a cinnamon bun. “Try this.”

“Uhh.” I pick up the swirl of golden brown and white pastry and sniff it first. “I’m not really into desserts.”

“Please, tell me what you think of it,” he says. “While it’s still hot, and be honest .”

He watches, eyes wide with anticipation, fingers spired together as I bring it to my lips.

The warm dough sinks easily between my teeth, the sugary sweetness subtle with a hint of orange extract, walnut, and vanilla. The filling is perfect as the dough breaks down between chews. “It’s good.”

His shoulders slump. “Good?” He nods his head. “See, I told you it’s missing something,” he says to Evangeline without looking at her, who rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

“I really do like it,” I offer and place the rest back on the tray.

“If it was perfect, you’d have finished it,” he announces. “Hungry or not. No matter, nothing will match up to my original recipe.”

“Wait, is this what you’ve been doing?” I ask, thinking back to Samuel’s comment about him being locked up, working on some ritual. “ Baking?”

“Well, how else am I supposed to spend my time?” he asks, glancing toward the window. “The demons do all the grunt work, and your brothers handle their tasks, which, you’ve been slacking,” he says with a waggle of his finger. “No matter. Now that you’re back, I assume you’ll be taking the reins back on your duties?”

“About that,” I begin, “I really do need to talk to you about Samuel and—”

Waving a dismissive hand, he cuts me off. “I don’t get in the middle of squabbles between my children. You can work it out at the ball tonight.” He rubs his hands together. “I love a party, and I haven’t seen Asher, Gideon, Ezra, Lazarus, or Silas in almost as long as I haven’t seen you. They’re always so busy with their duties, always somewhere on the other side of Hell or up to something in the Human Realm,” he rambles, completely unaware that he’s been isolated by the bitch behind him. “I know I can’t force any of you to visit.”

At least she has the sense to look terrified now we’re back and our dad knows it.

“Now, head on down. I know you have guests. I’ve sent them something to wear.”

“Already?”

He nods and grabs his tray. “Come now, Eva. I still need to visit the rest of my sons before the ball.”

She quickly races to his arm as he walks out, cinnamon buns in hand. “Love you, Lorcan,” he says before the door closes behind him. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

I press my hands to my forehead once I’m alone, smoothing out the deep lines forming.

Dad hasn’t changed a bit, I tell Ezra. He found me. Wants us all to go to a ball tonight.

Ezra tone skates through my mind like a current of energy. I just got the invitation. I’m going to go find him in a minute.

No need. He’s coming to find you soon. I pause, adding, He knows nothing. We need to get him alone, to tell him what they did.

He won’t believe us, Lor. You know that because he won’t want to believe it. He loves her and he’ll have to punish Samuel, and you know how he feels about punishment.

I walk out the room and shoot back to Ezra. Then we need to prove it to him. Evangeline was easy to get a rise out of.

Then, that’s what we’ll do. There’s a brief pause. Lor, I’m glad things worked out this way. I know it’s not what you wanted, but we are back together again and now we know the truth. I’m sorry, if I didn’t say it already, for everything I did to you. You always were my favorite.

I hold my breath. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?

Thanks, probably. Hmmm… perhaps, something nice too. I hear Ezra’s chuckle in my mind. Go to your old room. I’ll meet you there after I talk to Dad so we can plan.

He cuts out before I can answer that I want to see Evie first, but with Evangeline’s spies hanging around, that’d be a disastrous idea, anyway.

I glance down at all that remains of the cinnamon buns—a few crumbs—and wonder how a man in charge of Hell can be so upbeat.

He was always that way. Everyone expects the devil to be evil, often mistaking him for a demon, but he’s not. He’s an angel, and they’re born from light. Out of the eight of us in our family, Lucifer is perhaps the nicest, yet most powerful of us all.

I replay the memory in my mind of him tearing apart a soul in punishment, releasing his untapped, terrifying power in a split second, then sitting down and playing fire blocks with us after as if he hadn’t obliterated a soul out of existence.

I reach the entrance to my childhood bed chambers, happy to see nothing in here has been touched since then.

Except for the tuxedo on my four-post bed, along with a note. He’d only been gone for fifteen minutes, and Dad has already done this.

My son, this is for you.

You will accompany your stepmom tonight while I greet our guests and then join your love.

Love, Dad.

He knows. Of course he does. I just hope he doesn’t relay anything to Evangeline. He would have had his demons report everything to him by now, about my time in Hell. He might even know about the trials if he’s spoken to Ezra.

I pull the velvety fabric of the suit jacket between my fingers. The entire thing looks as if it’s been plucked from the night sky. I suppose it’s easy for him. Dad can manifest almost anything into reality, a gift no one else has.

I’m sure the dress he’s spun for Evie is just as beautiful. Not that it matters. She’d look fucking stunning in just about anything… or nothing but her rose and skull tattoos.

Evie. Fuck. She needs to know that we must be careful around Evangeline. I don’t trust the cunt not to attempt to hurt Evie if she knows, even more than she wants to now.

I reopen our bond, removing the mental barriers until I reach her. Evie? Little Witch?

Lor? An edge of anxiety hangs in her tone, and I suddenly feel awful for keeping her cut off that long.

Are you okay?

She hesitates than answers, Yes, but I was worried about you.

Don’t be. Look, I found my dad, but I couldn’t convince him. I need you to listen to me carefully.