Page 150 of The Bonds of Indigo

The door we stop in front of is as plain as they come. It even has a sign on it that reads Have a good day. It feels wrong somehow. Like a joke. Or a setup.

Amarah pulls my hand toward the doorknob and steps aside. “Let’s get him and go. I don’t like it here.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

A heavy breath escapes me, and for the first time, my heart starts to pick up. I’d been so consumed with Amarah’s safety that I hadn’t let the nerves of being this close to Lucifer settle.

What if, right behind this door, we end up in front of Belial because that’s where Luce is—right beside his father.

What if I face him and he really did leave me because he was done with me? And I’m a love-sick fool who chased him into the Beyond and dragged Amarah into danger for nothing?

What if he sees this as me going too far and tries to kill me and her?

My eyes drop to my little slayer, who is staring straight at the door. Her heartbeat is steady, but I can’t trust that alone any more than she can carry me.

No. I trust the bond instead. It hums with purpose. She wants this for me.

I won’t let myself think this is a mistake. The only thing I feel is regret for not coming sooner for him.

Like Kairhyse with Xeraphine, and she with him, I should’ve gone to him the moment he disappeared out of my life.

I twist the knob, and like before, we step into darkness.

The air feels lighter, something I hadn’t realized was different in the room we just left. Immediately, a familiar scent hits me. Rich wood, amber, leather, and a humid breeze. His scent is everywhere.

I don’t see him, but we’re definitely in his bedroom. Amarah’s footsteps sound behind me, and I glance at her before scanning the space again as the door closes on its own.

The room is a blend of darkness and opulence. Very much a Lucifer kind of space. To our right is a grand, ornately carved four-poster canopy bed, its towering frame engraved with dark woodwork full of floral and infernal motifs. Heavy black velvet curtains cascade down like shadows. Fitting, really. The bedding is a mix of black lace and layered textures, and it’s unmade.

Very unlike him.

There are red candles flanking the bed, and when I turn slightly, I see Amarah moving toward them.

On the other side of the bed is a stained-glass window, filled with infernal imagery in deep reds, ambers, and golds. A silver light filters through, illuminating the artwork and casting enough of a glow that I know Amarah will be able to see.

“This room is… insane,” she murmurs, dragging her finger along the bedpost.

The rest of the furniture—a chest, a vanity, a dresser—is the same dark wood as the bed. A red-and-black rug lies beneath it all. It’s very him: clean, meticulous, deliberate. He was always obsessive about tidiness, which makes the unmade bed even stranger.

She moves around toward the window, and as I turn in the opposite direction, I notice a second door. I feel pulled toward it, reaching for the handle, just as it turns on its own.

My heart stops. Not metaphorically, but literally stops. Blood freezes in my veins, my skin turning cold enough to crack.

The door swings open, slowly at first, then violently as Lucifer bursts through and drives a fist toward my face—I’m capable of dodging, his hand-to-hand combat was never his specialty.

I catch his wrist, twist, spin him behind me, and force him down to his knees.

He dissolves into a cloud of shadows and reappears behind me almost instantly. Before he can get an arm around my neck, I duck, pivot, and wrap mine around his waist instead.

He lets out a grunt that turns into a sharp gasp when I shove him back against the dresser.

“Luce! It’s me! It’s Kayn!” I snap, my voice holding steadier than I feel.

His bright violet eyes lock onto mine, and the color swirls. The darkness on his skin retracts, his Vigoro pulling back to reveal the pale flesh I loved marking.

His chest expands with a sharp, trembling breath. “W-What?”

Hearing his voice restarts my heart like a blow to the chest.