Page 154 of The World Undone

I needed to work faster, to fight harder. A cloying feeling in my gut told me that we had days until it was too late, not weeks, not months.

My jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as I tried to swallow my frustration. We’d been flitting away time, pushing off the inevitable. All this loss, all this pain—it would be for nothing if we didn’t even get a chance to fix things. To set things right.

We’d been sequestered at The Lodge, playing house for months in this perfect little snow globe of peace. It allowed me to gloss over reality—to not see the way the realms were crumbling around us.

Even the clueless humans on the news knew that something big was coming—stores had been depleted in preparation for some climate catastrophe, an unknown apocalypse that everyone could sense, even those without supernatural power.

The world was crafted almost entirely of fear now, and that was a dangerous thing.

People did terrible things when they were afraid.

I studied him as he moved closer to me, my brain rapidly filling in the gaps and pieces as I quickly oriented myself to this reality. “You’ve been missing.”

“Not missing.” An arrogant look eclipsed his expression—apparently, he lost none of his confidence, even when unwell. “I’ve known where I was all this time. I’ve been missing, perhaps, to those by whom I didn’t want to be found.”

I bit back the snarky retort clawing at my tongue. “We’re getting close,” I said instead, even though I had no idea if it was really the truth, “most of the council is dead. I expect we’ll have the stone soon.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his dark, unreadable eyes studying me in that way of his. It took all of my willpower to meet his stare, unblinking. Lucifer had a habit of looking at me that felt like I was being sliced through with a blade. He carved and probed, shaping me into bits that he seemed far more able to interpret and dissect than even I was. It was uncomfortable at the best of times, downright painful at the worst.

“You’re ready,” he whispered, and a flash of something, disappointment maybe, or regret, flashed across his face—there and then gone. “Your power, I can feel it, even here where my own is weakened.”

My hand curled into a fist, my fingers tracing over the cut Saif had made—the cut that had somehow still not fully healed.

I took a deep breath, and nodded. “My Uncle—Sayty’s twin,” Lucifer stilled at the sound of her name, “he found me, performed some kind of spell. I think he transferred some of his power to me, or broke whatever binding spell my mother had put on me when I was born. He said it would hopefully be enough,” I cleared my throat, my mouth dry, “to complete the ritual, I mean, not to keep me alive.”

Lucifer didn’t move, he wasn’t even breathing, but I could feel his fragile desire for me to continue.

The meeting with Saif came back slowly at first, then all at once, until I couldn’t get the name off my tongue fast enough. “Michael.”

Whatever Lucifer was expecting me to say, it wasn’t that—the name of his brother dripping with accusation.

He took a step back, lips parting slightly as if the breath had been stolen from his lungs.

“You never told me you were a twin, that you had a brother, that the two of you were part of the original ritual—the one that,” I gestured absently at the oddly serene setting around us. As dangerous as hell was, it was often still painfully beautiful. “Created this place.”

“I—” he dropped his gaze, angling his body towards the river, “I haven’t heard that name in many years. My connection to him was severed for as long as I can remember. For a while, I searched for him. But I’ve long assumed that he was dead. I’m not even sure he survived the original ritual.”

“He might be,” I said, “Saif couldn’t find him, just an amulet.”

His eyes narrowed at that, considering. “An amulet?”

I nodded, not having much more to offer him. I hadn’t had time to really study it, and Saif was still—well, I wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead, or if he’d be stuck in whatever coma he was in forever. The thought of losing another member of my family as soon as I’d found them was too bleak to linger on right now.

“As for my place in the creation of this realm,” Lucifer started, “you have to understand that I was not myself for a very long time—my memories, my power, they were all corrupted, fed to the magic that requires us to bleed for it. To survive. I only know what I’ve been able to piece together over the last few years—it’s truly not much more than you know yourself.” A sad grin tugged at his mouth. “I suppose we are alike in that way—both strangers to ourselves.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but I also wasn’t sure that it mattered, not anymore.

He was lost in his own thoughts for a few moments, until it almost seemed like he’d forgotten I was standing here with him entirely.

“Where have you been?”

He flinched, as if startled by my presence or the question. “I was looking for someone, for something.”

“And you couldn’t tell Samael or Serae or me?” I didn’t bother disguising the frustration in my voice. I’d done nothing but fight for this man and his ritual, for the chance to die, in order to save the realms. I was done acting like he was my superior, like someone who’s good opinion I valued. I knew what I was to him—a lamb he was diligently preparing for slaughter. “Do you need to keep the secrets that you keep, or is it just part of the whole,” I gestured absently, “mysterious devil persona you’re trying to protect?”

His brow twitched before he flattened his expression again. Always in control. “Serae didn’t need to know, and Samael had business of his own to attend to. We’ve been busy, and revealing our whereabouts and plans is very often the fastest way to negate them in this realm.”

“Business that’s bigger than preventing the literal death of everyone across the realms, you mean?”

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