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CHAPTER SIX

After the past couple nights of activity, I was relieved to sleep soundly—so soundly, in fact, that I managed to miss not one, but two text messages from Otto Visconti. They weren’t urgent, but their tone and close proximity to each other gave me the sense that the cursed vampire was feeling lonely. My thoughts immediately conjured up an image of Birdie. I would never again enjoy a meal with the older woman. Guilt gnawed at my bones. I should’ve made definitive plans to have dinner with her. Maybe if I’d been there…

I forced the guilt into a box and slammed the lid shut. There was no point in wondering. I wasn’t there. Neither was Kane. We’d both have to learn to live with that.

I would, however, learn a valuable lesson and pay a visit to my friend Otto. Besides, the vampire was as knowledgeable as he was curmudgeonly; he’d be a good sounding board for the current issues.

As I ventured downstairs for breakfast, I heard a cacophony of chinks, clanks, and clacks, the source of which turned out to be Claude and Nana Pratt. The dynamic duo was in the process of rearranging my cupboards. The countertops were covered with bowls, plates, pans, and other types of kitchen paraphernalia.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

They turned toward me with matching guilty postures. “We decided to take on a project,” the ghost said. “I expected you to sleep longer. You were out late last night.”

I stretched my sore neck. “I would’ve liked to sleep even longer, but my body had other plans.” Kane and I had searched Birdie’s fire-ravaged house but turned up nothing useful. The computers had been smashed and then melted into a mangled mess. “Can I at least make coffee or is this a no-go zone?”

Claude skittered across the counter and over a pile of plates to reach the coffeepot.

“We anticipated your caffeine requirements and took the liberty of doing that already,” Nana Pratt said, as Claude poured the steaming black liquid into a mug.

“Thank you,” I said, plucking the mug from Claude’s gnarled fingers. When I turned around, Nana Pratt thrust the carton of creamer into my hand.

“Off you go,” she said. “The grownups are working.”

“What about food?” If I didn’t eat first thing in the morning, I felt nauseated.

Claude leaped over the plates with a croissant pinched between two of his fingers.

I accepted the offering and took a bite. “Where did you get this?” I hadn’t bought any pastries. As much as I loathed to admit it, nothing could compete with The Corporation’s donut.

“Claude says he found it outside the coffee shop. Someone must’ve dropped it.”

Cringing, I released the croissant from between my teeth and studied it. “How long was it on the ground? ”

Claude signed, Five second rule .

“I don’t believe you,” I said, but I took another bite anyway. It was delicious.

“I’d warm it in the microwave for you, but we can’t get to it at the moment,” Nana Pratt said, shooing me out of the kitchen. “Now go make yourself useful somewhere else. Claude and I will take care of the kitchen.”

“Don’t make too many changes or I won’t be able to find anything.” It was challenging enough when the grocery store rearranged the shelves, and I found myself staring at boxes of diapers where the bags of ground coffee used to be.

“We would’ve discussed it with you first, but you were nowhere to be found. If you’re planning to stay out half the night, you should at least leave a note, so we don’t worry.”

I had a feeling Nana Pratt’s banging and clanging weren’t entirely to do with the reorganization. “I’m sorry. There was an unexpected issue last night.”

She let go of her resentment long enough to express concern. “Did you and Kane quarrel?”

I drew a steadying breath. “No, Birdie was killed last night. I was the one who found her.”

Claude arched his fingers in a sympathetic gesture. Nana Pratt’s mouth made a small ‘o’ shape. “I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t realize.”

“Why would you? Anyway, it was a rough night. Kane’s upset, obviously.”

“Yes, of course.”

Ray materialized in the kitchen and observed the mess. “I told you to wait on this until Lorelei gave the green light.”

“What does it matter to you?” Nana Pratt shot back. “You’re in charge of the library. The kitchen is my domain.” Claude poked her in the side. “And Claude’s.”

Ray muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t come in here to argue. Lorelei, would you mind coming outside for a minute? There’s something you need to see.”

My skin prickled. “Do I need a weapon?”

“Not unless one of them has a pair of binoculars embedded in it.”

I understood the moment I stepped foot on the porch. “I don’t think I need binoculars for this.”

The crows were impossible to miss. They lined the finials of the iron fence that ran along the front of the property. Their silky black feathers shimmered in the sunlight, revealing deep blue and purple hues that weren’t typically apparent.

“They sure put the eerie in iridescent,” I commented.

“Seems like the scarecrow isn’t doing his job,” Ray said. “We might want to move him.”

“Buddy can stay where he is. The crows are here for a reason.”

“What do they want?” Ray asked.

“Not sure yet. Maybe they know who killed Birdie.” I had, after all, instructed them to find the killer. Crows were clever enough to manage it, especially this crew.

“Wait, Birdie’s dead?”

“Last night. Someone strangled her and then tried to cover it up by setting fire to her house.”

Ray eyed the yard with a nervous twitch. “The crows wouldn’t bring a corpse with them, would they?”

“I don’t think they’d kill anyone. Collectively, they’re a murder, not a murderer.” I hopped off the porch and walked to the bridge. “Hello, feathered friends. I’m glad to see you again.”

The birds cawed in response; there was a melancholy quality to the sound that tugged at my heartstrings. Each caw seemed to carry the weight of sorrow.

“I bet you miss Birdie. So do I. ”

Ray joined me at the foot of the bridge. “They don’t seem angry, just sad.”

“I think that’s why they’re here.”

“To mourn?”

“And because they’re looking for someone to validate their grief.” According to Birdie, crows were highly intelligent. They remembered human faces—which people treated them well, and which people didn’t. Their presence here suggested I was in the former category.

“Do me a favor, Ray. Go inside and get the bag of pumpkin seeds from the cabinet.” I would’ve gone for the popcorn, except the microwave was currently out of commission.

Ray disappeared without a word. The crows remained rooted to their posts, their beady eyes all fixed on me.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Birdie. She was an exceptional woman. She deserved a better death.”

They ruffled their wings in response.

Ray returned with the bag of seeds. I sprinkled them across the lawn until the bag was empty. I was glad I’d bought the family size. “I wish I had better food to offer you, but at least the seeds are organic.”

The crows flocked to the yard to devour the seeds. They’d probably relied on Birdie for many of their meals. I wondered whether they viewed me as her replacement.

“They seem hungry,” Ray remarked.

“Grief either empties you to the point where you’re ravenous or fills you to the point where you can’t eat.”

“Guess it emptied them.”

My stomach rumbled. “Makes me hungry.”

“The buzz of a bee makes you hungry.”

“All the more reason to see Otto.” As long as my kitchen was off limits, I might as well take advantage of my friend with a superior kitchen—and a chef to boot .

I waited until the crows took to the air to retrieve my keys from the house. I opted for the motorcycle today. I didn’t want to be trapped inside the cab of the truck. I needed freedom, to feel the wind on my face, like my new feathered friends.

As I walked to the outbuilding that housed the motorcycle, I called to check on Kane. No answer. Next, I tried Dantalion. No response there either. My heart hammered in my chest as I hit Josie’s name on the screen. Technically it read “PITA,” but I knew who I meant.

“He isn’t ignoring you,” Josie said, by way of a greeting. “His phone is off.”

“Now isn’t the ideal time to turn off his phone.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you doubt his ability to take care of himself.”

I huffed. “What about Dantalion? He didn’t answer his phone. Have you seen him?”

“Wait. You called me third?”

“Look at this way. I could’ve called Alessandro third.”

“Dan-Dan is parked outside the club. He took second watch.”

The knot in my stomach eased. “Will you ask Kane to call me when he feels ready to talk?” He’d seemed in decent shape when I left him last night. Sad and stoic, but not distant.

Josie was silent for a moment. “You don’t need to worry, Lorelei. We’ve got this.”

For once, I hoped she was right.

Otto’s house was one of the older, larger homes in Fairhaven, the Castle notwithstanding. Unlike my sprawling monstrosity, the house on Walden Lane was sophisticated, symmetrical, and shipshape.

I rang the bell and waited for Heidi, his stoic housekeeper, to answer the door. It seemed to happen in record time. Typically, I could count to five Mississippi in my head. I got the impression that she liked to keep me waiting.

“What’s the rush?” I asked. “Now that the weather’s actually pleasant, you don’t want me standing outside?”

Heidi didn’t crack a smile. “Mr. Visconti is in the study. I’ll take you there now.” She turned on her heel and trudged down the hall like she was about to meet with the executioner to discuss which blade he might use on her neck.

Music greeted us in the hall as we approached the study. Jazz. I hated jazz with every fiber of my being. Chaos in musical form.

“What’s with the sound of torture?” I asked.

“Mr. Visconti has company,” Heidi said. She left me standing alone in the doorway.

I peered inside the room. Otto sat on the sofa, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the arm. The pianist was tall and broad, with long arms that seemed capable of enveloping the entire width of the piano. His movements were frantic as the music reached its crescendo. The song came to its merciful conclusion, and I clapped, prompting Otto to turn toward the sound.

“I’d recognize that slow, mocking clap anywhere. Lorelei Clay, I’d like you to meet my special guest, Luke.”

“Luke,” I repeated. His face was more chiseled than the statue of David, and his dark eyes gleamed with intelligence and good humor. His reddish-blond hair appeared tousled, as though he’d simply raked a hand through it this morning and went on his way. The suit, however, was immaculate. Not a thread out of place.

He rose to his full height to greet me with a kiss on the cheek. I moved my head at the last second to avoid contact.

“I apologize for my European customs,” Luke said. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve visited the States. ”

“Lorelei won’t mind,” Otto said. “She lived in England for a few years.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? London?”

“Yes.” I watched as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. One seemed to be missing an essential element.

“Lorelei is such a pretty name.”

“Thank you,” I said, choking down the bile that rose in my throat. “Is Luke short for something?” Although I was fairly certain I already knew, I was still woefully unprepared for the answer.

“Lucifer.”

Otto started to choke.

Know with whom you’re having the pleasure , as Pops liked to say.

The corner of Otto’s mouth lifted high enough to reveal one stunted fang. “Surely you can’t be the Lucifer.”

“I can and I am.” He focused his attention on me. “Lorelei Clay. Do you know your name means death twice over?”

Every muscle in my body was screaming to run, get away, but I forced myself to remain still. “I’m aware.”

“I like your parents. I’m not a fan of subtlety either.”

I pictured Kane’s battered body from his nightmares. “So I’ve heard.”

“Ah, my reputation precedes me. That’s a shame, although I can’t say I’m surprised.”

His comment caught me off guard. “Why is it a shame?”

“I’m a changed demon, Miss Clay. I’ve seen the error of my ways, and I’ve come here to prove it.”

“Why Fairhaven? Why not prove it in Dublin or Dubai?”

He raised a finger. “An excellent question, and one I’d love to answer over a bottle of Pichon-Lalande.”

Otto offered a nervous chuckle. “I did mention that, didn’t I?” He slid to his feet. “Would you like to take a trip to the wine cellar? I have an excellent selection. ”

“I’ll wait here if you don’t mind,” Lucifer said. “I’d love the opportunity to get to know your guest a bit better.”

No doubt. I looked at Otto. “I’d like to try a glass. It sounds expensive.”

Lucifer’s mouth split in a grin. “A woman who appreciates the finer things.”

“Yes, because we’re in such short supply.”

Otto seemed to sense the tension and was reluctant to leave us alone. “On second thought, I’ll ask Heidi to retrieve the bottle. She works much faster than I do. I’ll only be a moment.” He hurried from the room, leaving me alone with Kane’s archnemesis.

Lucky me.

“How did you meet Otto?” I asked.

“At an auction house. He bid on the painting I’d been coveting.”

“Who won?”

“A third party.” He winked. “But only because I let him. He was trying to impress his father. I could hardly stand in the way of that.”

“Is this part of your efforts to rebuild your brand?”

“I suppose it is. I’d love to hear more of what you know about me.”

I laughed. “Spoken like a true narcissist.”

Lucifer gestured to the piano. “Do you play?”

“On occasion.”

He fixed me with a penetrating stare. “I sense immense talent. Please, indulge me.”

Please .

I resisted the urge to pull him into a nightmare reality and leave him there to rot. Thankfully, Otto returned with Heidi in tow. She carried a tray with a bottle and three wine glasses .

“Is Lorelei being modest?” Otto asked. “I think that’s her real talent.”

“Schubert is a particular favorite of mine,” Lucifer said. “I’d be honored if you played it for me.”

I couldn’t decide whether there was an ulterior motive buried in his request. My emotions weren’t entirely in check, so there was a chance I’d reveal more power than I cared to, although I wasn’t sure Lucifer knew my identity. There was no glimmer of recognition when I’d introduced myself, only a reference to my name that anyone with etymological knowledge would know. Either his spies hadn’t gathered intelligence beyond Kane’s location, or Lucifer was solely interested in his target.

In that case, why was he in Otto’s house and not threatening to huff and puff and blow down the Devil’s Playground?

My phone vibrated in my pocket. A surreptitious glance at the screen told me that Otto had done more than request the wine from the cellar when he left the study. Kane’s text message was blunt.

LEAVE .

My pulse quickened at sight of the urgency of the single word. Kane’s advice was sound, except this seemed like the ideal opportunity to gain the advantage.

I tucked away the phone. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?” I asked.

“I found a lovely B I’ve turned over a new leaf. I have no desire to exact revenge on Kane.”

“Then why come here at all? There are hundreds of charming small towns in America.”

“In truth, I was intrigued. Where on earth could be so wonderful that a traitor would choose to set down roots rather than cling to the shadows in his effort to escape my wrath?”

I bristled at the description. “Kane is a hero.”

“To some, perhaps.” He took another generous sip of wine.

“Why haven’t you seen him yet?”

“Only fools rush in. I would much prefer to handle it with the velvet gloves the moment deserves.”

“You aren’t worried he’ll run first?”

“No,” he said without explanation. “There’s no need to be concerned. My only motivation in coming here is to reconcile with Kane and put our bad blood behind us. I want him to see that I’m a changed demon.”

“So tell him, not me.”

“If I waltzed into his establishment and tried to explain that I’ve seen the error of my ways, do you think he would listen?”

“He wouldn’t be able to. The sound of Josie attacking you would drown out everything else.”

Lucifer chuckled again. “She is a firebrand, isn’t she? I could’ve used someone like her in my realm.”

“Birdie,” I said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you didn’t plan a sneak attack on Kane, why did you kill Birdie?”

“I haven’t the slightest inkling of what you’re talking about.”

“Is it because one of her crows found your cufflink? She’d already given it to me. There was no reason to kill her.”

His face remained impassive. “I regret to inform you, or perhaps I don’t regret telling you, that I had nothing to do with whatever you’re accusing me of.”

If Lucifer wasn’t responsible for killing Birdie, then who was—and why?

“I know I can’t prove a negative, but I’ve been forthright about other things. Perhaps you can extend a chap a bit of courtesy. The benefit of the doubt and all that.”

A memory flashed in my mind of the nightmare I’d shared with Kane, the one where Kane relived the torture Lucifer had inflicted upon him. Anger simmered in my blood, low in heat but ready and willing to boil.

“What makes you think you deserve the benefit of the doubt?” I ground out.

“Isn’t that one of the core principles of humanity? ”

“Like you would know anything about it.”

“After Kane’s failed rebellion, I had time to think.”

“You live in hell. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“You’d be surprised how busy it can get there. Bodies to flay. Punishment to exact.” He shrugged. “The days get away from me quite easily. I had to make a concerted effort to slow down and smell the sulfur.”

“At what point did you decide that Kane had a point about your leadership style?”

“I can pinpoint the exact moment, if you’ll indulge me.” A faint smile crossed his lips. “I was making the rounds in the torture pit when I saw a woman chained to a rock. You could tell she’d been a beauty once upon a time. Time and torture had ravaged her fine features.”

“Please don’t tell me it was the love of a beautiful woman that kickstarted your transformation.”

“Goodness no. She loathed me with the fire of a million ACOTAR fans. It was like really looking at a Monet painting for the first time. All those tiny little dots that create a work of art.”

I cringed. “You’re comparing the torture of this woman to a work of art? That’s next-level freak show. I don’t think you’re as reformed as you believe.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not explaining myself very well. Forgive me. Jack of all languages and master of none.”

“Your tongue is as silver as they come. Keep talking.”

“Oh, I’m glad you think so. That’s kind of you to say.” He sighed. “Suddenly it all felt so pointless. What did I care whether this woman was punished? Her actions on earth had naught to do with me. I’d formed a co-dependent relationship with my identity, if that makes sense.”

“If what you say is true, why haven’t we heard about your reformation? I would think it qualifies as big news, even in this realm.”

“You know how people are. They believe what they want to believe. It’s almost impossible to get them to see you in a different light without a massive PR campaign.”

My mind was whirring with questions. “How did you find Kane? As far as I know, your spies were killed before they could send word to you.”

He compressed his lips. “Is that so? Unfortunate collateral damage.”

No mention of Canto, which didn’t necessarily mean the lesser demon had kept his vow of silence.

“Melinoe, my darling, I would be eternally grateful if you would persuade Kane to meet me. Our reunion is long overdue and the only way to do this right is to have an intermediary.”

“Why me?”

“According to my intel, he trusts your judgment.”

“He does trust her judgment,” Otto agreed.

Lucifer’s eyes implored me. “Convince Kane to meet me. You’re welcome to join us, of course. I’ll make reservations at this lovely Italian restaurant I discovered. A jewel…”

I barked a laugh. “You want to have dinner with us like we’re old friends?”

“Kane is an old friend. One of my very oldest.”

“If that’s how you treat your friends, I’d hate to be your enemy.”

“Yes, you certainly would,” he replied, dark eyes gleaming with hatred.

Finally, a glimpse of the real Lucifer that lurked beneath this charming facade. In a strange way, it was comforting.

“We’re not going to meet you in the town’s favorite Italian restaurant.” I wouldn’t risk the lives of the humans who happened to be enjoying a quality pasta dish that evening. People celebrated anniversaries and birthdays there.

“Then where do you suggest?”

“I heard you’re fond of making deals. Is that true?”

“Bargains are considered my specialty, yes. What do you have in mind?”

“Meet me at One Oak. It’s a local speakeasy.” It was underground and limited to supernaturals, which would limit the damage Lucifer could do.

Lucifer smiled. “I love a good speakeasy. I assume there will be fun and games.”

Fun was out of the question. “There will definitely be games,” I said. “Care to play?”

“Absolutely. If I win, I’d like a civilized dinner with Kane.”

“Not at the Italian restaurant.”

“Fine. Your house will do.” His eyebrow quirked. “And if I lose?”

“No meeting. No Kane. You return to hell and never come back.”

The hint of a smile graced his lips. “I’ll take those odds, with pleasure.”