Page 90 of Mercy & Her Devils

“Fletcher had a photograph of you in one of those confidential files,” I say, as steadily as I can. “The FBI must have worked out that you’re Lucifer. It didn’t name you as that. But why else would Fletcher talk obsessively about the Devils and then be reading a file on you? You’re already on the FBI’s most wanted list. I was desperate to find a way to warn you because there was an order signed underneath by the President himself to execute you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Gabriel’s Bedroom, Devil Estate

Gabriel leads the way into his bedroom on the first floor of the log cabin, before firmly closing the door behind me.

He’s pale, and his mouth is set in a thin line.

He’s been quiet ever since I told him what I discovered in the file.

But then, I would be too, if I knew that the FBI had unmasked me and the President himself wanted me dead.

“Finally,” he mutters, “we get some time to ourselves.”

He doesn’t wrap his arms around me like I’m expecting.

Instead he clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace agitatedly from one side of the small room to the other, deep in thought.

His lavender eyes are as beautiful and bright as they ever were.

He’s still gorgeous.

But there’s worry lines furrowed between his brows that weren’t there before, along with a haunted look in his expression that makes my heart ache.

We’re not kids any longer.

We’ve grown up and survived.

Despite everything, I love the way that this room is warm, smelling of cinnamon coffee. Neither the guest room nor balcony had borne Gabriel’s scent, which makes sense if he’s been away for weeks and rarely spends time here anyway.

But I can tell that this is his room.

And that’s depressing.

Dismayed, I stare around at the near empty bedroom.

A single window looks out over the forest. Light streams through, lighting my face, but it’s the only cheery thing in the room.

Otherwise, the room is bare. There’s a single bed in the center that has plain olive cotton bedding and no extra pillows.

It could be a military barracks.

Is this how Gabriel likes it?

It definitely looks like a soldier’s room, someone who’s used to moving from place to place at short notice and so doesn’t collect many belongings.

Gabriel was like that as a kid.

There are no personal items, pictures, or trinkets.

There’s only a single photograph, which is tacked next to the bed.

Curious, I wander to look at it more closely.

Then I smile.

The photograph’s of Antonio and Kai.

---