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“I mean it. You dislocated your shoulder. I did the best I could, but that’s still going to take a few days to heal.”
“So, you want me to just sit on my hands?”
“One of your hands, at least.” He paused. “That was meant to be humor.”
My frown deepened. “That wasn’t funny.”
He shook his head. “Look, my father isn’t going to keep you in this room forever. Like I said, he’s going to try to figure out if you can be trained as a Diaboli.”
“I would rather die, honestly.”
He sighed. “I’m going to try to figure out a way to get you away from him, but there’s no getting you out of this room without the demons knowing about it. They’ll tell him before you even get through the door.”
“That’s how he knew where to find me when I… fell.”
“Right.” Lucien leaned a little closer, as if he wanted to whisper. “If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to be a good girl and play along. Can you do that?”
Woah, something about those words started a whole flutter of butterflies in my stomach “Yes,” I said, firmly. “I can.”
“Good. I need you to survive long enough to get you the fuck out of this place. I don’t know when, or how, just remember; do what he says, and don’t do anything stupid. Do you understand?”
I paused and found myself staring into his eyes. In this dim light, they didn’t look red, but brown. I remembered them well; the eyes of a man I had once trusted enough with my body. Did that mean I could trust him with my life? Maybe, maybe not. There was only one way to find out.
“I understand,” I said.
Lucien lingered near me for a moment that seemed to span a lifetime. When he drew away, my body felt like it had been pulled toward him. I watched him walk around the bed, reach the door, and turned around once more.
“Stay alive,” he said.
I nodded. “I will.” I paused. “Wait, will the… demons come back?”
“Not tonight. Eat, then get some sleep.”
Lucien exited the room and shut the door behind himself. For a moment I sat exactly where I was, not moving, just thinking. I felt like a mental gymnast, vaulting up, over, and sliding under every single thought running around inside of my head.
I believed him.
I believed him when he said his father would end my life. Believed him when he told me he wanted to help me. Believed him when he said he would try to get me out of here. Did that mean that, when push came to shove, he would stop his father from trying to hurt me?
No.
Maybe he meant well, but Mason Diaboli was a force of nature, and I didn’t think Lucien was capable of patricide. That didn’t mean we were never going to get out of this place. As long as I did what he asked, as long as I was a good girl, there was a chance I could get out of here.
Fuck if I wasn’t going to take it.
Chapter
Thirteen
Afew days had passed, days spent in solitude for the most part. I couldn’t help but chew on the thought that Lucien Diaboli was right; If I hadn’t tried to escape and injured myself in the attempt, I wouldn’t have been sat in this room for days, with nothing to do and no one to talk to.
The only person who came in was the maid, who would bring my meals, change my bandages, and spend a little while cleaning the room. She didn’t talk, though I expected she had been told not to speak to me, likely on pain of death considering how brutal these Diaboli were.
So, I waited, sitting on my one good hand, waiting for the other arm to heal.
The summoning that morning was an abrupt thing. A small knock on the door, heralding the daily arrival of the maid, but it was Lucien who entered instead. Seeing him so suddenly caught me off guard, and when he asked me to get changed and join them downstairs, my anxiety spiked.
I found all three of them—Lucien, Mason, and Carla—waiting for me in the study, flanked on both sides by men in hoods and masks. My heart jumped straight into my throat.
