Page 14 of Discord and Cinder (Fire Witches of Salem #7)
DISCORD
C inder wished for her soul to be shredded into oblivion.
It was the only explanation my mind could comprehend.
Why else would she be so bold? No, not bold.
That wasn’t the right word to describe her transgression.
Stupid. Moronic. Imbecilic. She was lucky Lucifer hadn’t struck her down in that instant.
We both were.
“You seem to forget my fate is tied to yours,” I whispered as we followed a servant toward the dining room. “You’re supposed to be following my lead.”
“I might do that if you were actually leading. All you’ve done so far is grovel, put on a show, and kiss his ass. At least I’m moving the conversation forward.” She brushed her hair behind her bare shoulder and shrugged dismissively. “If you have a plan, I’m all ears.”
I blew out a sharp, irritated breath. “My plan was to test the waters. To only say as much as his mood allowed.”
“His hair was blond. You said that meant he was happy, so I went with it.”
We stopped outside the dining room doors, and as the servant opened them, I regarded Cinder. Perhaps bold was a good word for her. She’d seen an opportunity and taken it, and if she’d been speaking to anyone other than Lucifer himself, I’d have applauded her effort.
The servant gestured for us to enter, and we stepped inside.
The grand table, which could easily seat thirty, was set for seven.
The polished black granite gleamed beneath half a dozen candelabra made of gilded bones.
Orange flames flickered in response to my magic…
possibly to Cinder’s as well…casting dancing shadows onto the walls, and ornate silver goblets sat beside black chargers etched with red veins that pulsed softly.
Atop the chargers sat neatly folded black napkins with Lucifer’s monogram embroidered in crimson thread.
Two harpies entered from a swinging door and tugged two chairs from beneath the table, their gazes cast downward as always when in the presence of royalty. We took our seats, and they exited the chamber, leaving me alone with the thorn in my side called Cinder.
“What’s the plan, Captain?” She started to take the napkin from her charger, but I caught her hand and shook my head. If her mouth didn’t get us both obliterated, her manners would.
“We accept Lucifer’s hospitality with grace. Do not mention your demands again until he asks, and do not, for any reason whatsoever, reveal my mark on your arm or mention our blood bond.”
“It’s not much of a plan, but okay.” She dropped her hands into her lap.
Another door opened, and four new members of the court sauntered in. I recognized Bedlam, Ruin, and Tumult immediately. They wore black suits with blood red shirts, and they’d all slicked their dark hair back in matching styles.
The woman accompanying them I had never seen before.
She had silver hair, cropped short to her head, and she wore a dark blue satin pantsuit with nothing else beneath the jacket.
If the seer hadn’t shown me the changes of the past centuries, I’d have been appalled at her appearance.
Now, it seemed women could wear whatever they chose, even in the earthly realm.
“The mighty Discord has returned.” Bedlam pulled out a chair for the woman, tucking her in as she sat. Arrogance seeped from his pores, and he laughed before taking a seat.
“And he brought a witch instead of his brothers.” Tumult sat next to him. “What are we to think of that?”
Ruin let out a hard exhale as he took a seat. “You should have stayed across the veil.”
“This witch has a name, and you will use it.” I crossed my arms, straightening my back. “Cinder, meet Ruin, Tumult, Bedlam, and…?”
The woman tilted her head, her calculating gaze sliding over me before she focused on Cinder. Lucifer strode into the room, and the servants hurried in behind him. He positioned himself at the head of the table, and they filled our goblets with wine before placing the napkins in our laps.
As they returned to the kitchen to prepare our first course, Lucifer sipped his wine, eyeing Cinder over the rim of his goblet. A spark of possessiveness ignited in my chest. I instinctively leaned toward her and narrowed my eyes at him in warning.
He chuckled and set down his glass. “Four hundred years of sensory deprivation, and you haven’t changed a bit.”
“But I see your court has.” I glanced at Ruin, who sat at Lucifer’s immediate right…where I should have been.
“Someone had to pick up the slack while you were out playing with witches.” Ruin leaned forward in a feeble attempt to intimidate me.
“Believe me. He and I are not playing at anything,” Cinder said.
“And she speaks for you as well.” Ruin arched a brow, and I imagined my fist erasing the amusement from his face.
Sadly, Lucifer did not tolerate physical altercations at dinner, so I squeezed Cinder’s knee beneath the table instead, hoping to remind her of our positions in this power play.
Ignoring Ruin’s jab, I turned my attention to the silver-haired woman. “I don’t believe you told me your name.”
“You’re right. I didn’t.” She sipped her wine and said no more.
Lucifer clucked his tongue. “That’s no way to speak to our fallen prince. Tell him who you are.”
She flicked her gaze to the king before inclining her chin. “My name is Seraphine Gale. I’m the most skilled hunter you will ever meet, and I am the only witch in Lucifer’s court.”
She looked at Cinder. “It will stay that way.”
“There, there, Seraphine,” Lucifer said, speaking as if the witch were a child. “Cinder isn’t here to infiltrate us. Are you dear? No, she has her own agenda, I’m afraid.”
Cinder’s silver-tongue magic flared, but I squeezed her knee once more before she could speak. Hecate had been the only witch in Lucifer’s court for centuries. Her absence and apparent replacement were concerning. The goddess had always been the calm to Lucifer’s storm.
The kitchen door swung open, interrupting the lethal conversation, and seven harpies entered, each carrying a silver-domed dish. They stood behind us, and as Lucifer nodded, they set the dishes down and removed the domes in unison, revealing a thick brown puree.
“Leek and shallot soup, seasoned with essence of gluttony and shame,” the head servant said. “Enjoy.”
“Gluttony and shame?” Cinder leaned toward me, lowering her voice. “Is it safe for me to eat here?”
“It would be unsafe if you didn’t,” I whispered.
“ Bene sapiat ,” Lucifer said, lifting his glass before taking a sip and setting it on the table. “Enjoy your meal.”
Cinder eyed her soup, and I could almost see the calculations forming in her mind.
I picked up my spoon and dunked it into the salty liquid.
Shame was an acquired taste, one I never appreciated, which Lucifer knew.
Adding it to our first course was a not-so-subtle hint at my place in this realm.
I took a bite, and Cinder followed my lead, her lips tightening as she swallowed.
“How do you like it?” Lucifer suppressed a smile as he watched Cinder take another bite.
She swallowed and dabbed the napkin to the corners of her mouth. “I’ve always said leeks are the most underrated vegetable. They’re my favorite.”
Good answer. Perhaps we might survive this dinner after all.
The second course consisted of skunk cabbage salad with a dressing made from the tears of the tormented. Cinder cringed when the harpy announced it, but she ate, nodding her head in false appreciation. I could only imagine the nausea she must have felt with each bite.
Seraphine wiped her mouth. “Tormented tears perfectly counter the sweetness of the cabbage. Don’t you think, sire?”
“What do you think, dear Cinder?” Lucifer asked, making Seraphine clench her jaw.
Cinder swallowed and took a large drink of wine before answering, “I’ve always liked the combination of salty and sweet. Like salted chocolate or caramel. They complement each other well.”
She smirked at Seraphine and took another bite, her gaze never straying as she chewed and swallowed. Admiration warmed my chest, and I fought my smile. I never dreamed an earthly witch could be so skilled at underworldly diplomacy.
The harpies cleared our salad plates and returned with the main course. “A prime rib cut of Stygian steer with goose foie gras and garlic butter.” They refilled our goblets and returned to the kitchen.
Cinder cut into her steak and took a bite. Surprise flashed in her eyes, and she nodded. “This is delicious.”
“Hmm.” Lucifer’s gaze grew wistful. “It was Hecate’s favorite.”
“Was?” The question left my lips before I could temper it.
The hair at Lucifer’s temples began to darken, and Seraphine shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Bedlam, Ruin, and Tumult took larger bites as if now rushing through their meals.
“Dinner first.” Lucifer cut into the meat, tightening his grip on the knife, his movements growing aggressive.
Cinder tensed beside me, obviously aware of the shift, and she rested her hand on my thigh, tapping her index finger against my pants. I laid my hand atop hers, silently acknowledging the imminent danger.
Lucifer took a deep breath, and the darkness spreading through his hair stilled, leaving it dappled with black and blond.
We ate in silence, though my appetite had diminished greatly, and the final course, a sweet blood pudding with a raspberry and turnip reduction, sat heavy in my stomach like a lump of basalt.
With the dishes cleared from the table, Lucifer leaned forward, folding his arms on the surface. “Tell me, Discord, how this situation came to be.”
I straightened, casting Cinder a warning look to remain quiet before I began.
“A powerful witch summoned Chaos, Mayhem, and me over four centuries ago. She promised her soul and that of her firstborn in exchange for cursing the Holland bloodline. We agreed, but her power was greater than we could have imagined.”