“Stop!” Eliza shouts. “Stop before you wreck the fucking house!”
“What did you expect me to do?” I repeat. “I called for help and Lucifer was the only one who answered. He broke out of Hell and he…he still came to help me. Should I have told him to go away and let Abby die?” I ball my fists and the anger slips away and more tears roll down my face. “He healed her and…and…” And for a second, I thought I was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t really bad after all. Maybe he really did care about me, and being related actually meant something to him like he kept telling me it did.
And that’s when it hits me: the fear I feel is mixed with crushing disappointment. Lucifer has been the most reliable relative I have, answering me when I ask for help.
“I’m sorry,” Lucas tells me and strides back over. He takes me in his arms and holds me tight against his firm chest for a few seconds. “I’m not angry at you, Callie.”
I sniffle and nod, pressing my face against his shirt. He runs his fingers through my hair and then cups his large hands around my chin, tipping my face up to his. We kiss, and some of the tension melts away.
“Tell me everything,” he says and slides his hands down my arms and takes my hands in his. Nodding, I follow him to the couch.
“We got back from the spa and were sitting in the kitchen. The doorbell rang and Abby got up to get it, thinking it was her neighbor who was dropping off honey. But it was Roger, and when he shot at me, I blocked it with a telekinetic shield and it…” My throat gets tight again. “It bounced off and hit Abby in the stomach.” I blink and fat tears roll down my cheeks. Abby doesn’t remember any of it, and I wish I could forget too.
“I threw him back and his head cracked against the door. I called for my dad or Julian to come heal her, but they didn’t show up. She was losing so much blood and then he…he just showed up.”
“Lucifer.”
“Yes, and he healed her, sent Roger’s body to Hell—I think—and then I asked what do you want and he said nothing, but then he looked at my stomach and said maybe I do.”
“How does that mean he wants your baby?” Eliza asks. She’s chewing on her nails, nails that she just spent a good hour painting just the other day. I’ve never seen her this nervous before. “All he said was he maybe wants something.”
“I don’t know, but it was the way he looked at me.”
Lucas wipes my tears away again and bring me into his lap. “After he healed Abby, what happened?” I can see the stress in his deep blue eyes, yet he’s calm for my sake.
“I cast a sleep spell on Abby, and then Easton called, saying he’d gotten word that Roger figured out I’d put a truth potion in his drink and then cast a sleep spell on him. He was only a few minutes away, so he helped me clean everything up. I altered Abby’s memory, cast a glamour on her so she wouldn’t see that her clothes were all bloody, and magically swayed her to go shower and get all the blood off her skin.”
“You’re sure you got everything?” Lucas asks, tensing.
“I think so. I told Abby we would stop by later to say hi to Penny before we head back into Thorne Hill so you could check it out.” I close my eyes, feeling nauseous again. “Easton got rid of the security footage and took all the bloody paper towels, Abby’s clothes, and the gun. I kept the bullet, though. Is that weird?”
“You’re weird,” Eliza says matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less than you keeping the bullet that almost killed your sister.”
I suck in a breath but get no air. Lucas puts his hand on my chest. “Breathe, my love. Look at me and breathe.”
Blinking back more tears, I nod and take in a slow breath.
“If the house is clean, the footage removed, and there is no body to be found, then we can check that off our list of problems. Now…how the fuck did Roger know where you were?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea, and the only thing that makes sense would be if someone was spying on me.” I feel icky when the words leave my lips. “They knew we were here, in Chicago, and maybe saw me leave with Abby. I don’t know.”
I put my head in my hands, world spinning. Just when I thought I’d caught a break, I’m here playing whack-a-mole with my problems again. I take care of one and two more pop up.