Page 75 of Like Grim Death: Part One
A father of bones,
A son sheltered in the ribcage of his own demons.
The verse comes to me as Lucifer holds Rain, dipping his chin and pressing a kiss to his son’s soft head of dark hair. My husband’s eyes drift closed, long lashes along his pale, high cheekbones, and I see the hollows under his lower lash line. Deep, purple circles like bruises along his fair skin. He got in late last night from Sanctum; I was half-asleep. Today, I woke before sunrise with Rain and let Lucifer sleep in.
I almost fell asleep myself moments ago, giving Rain a bottle here, in my husband’s office, the place where I unearthed a secret I don’t want.
Two nights ago, those papers in my hand, I waited until Lucifer woke to ask him about them. He snatched them from my grip, tucked them away and told me the article was from before either of us were even born.
He refused to have a discussion about it.“There’s nothing to discuss. This is not our concern.”No amount of screaming between us would unlock the vault that is his brain. The tension swirling around us is still incredibly dense.
Sighing, I flick my gaze to the window. There are so many in here, two entire walls of them. I enjoy watching storms from this room. Now, I stare at the rain patter along the glass, thunder booming like a soundtrack to my desperate need for rest.
It’s early afternoon, but it looks closer to twilight with the lazy storms we’ve had all day.
I shift in the red leather chair, several feet from where Lucifer is leaning against the front of his expansive, black desk. His arms are coiled tightly around our son, his shoulders filling up the black T-shirt he’s wearing, his arms knotted with lean muscle, hands splayed over Rain’s back. Rain is in a black and white striped onesie, sleeping peacefully in his dad’s embrace, the empty bottle I fed him on the small coffee table next to my knee.
“Atlas skipped last night.” Luce’s words are hushed, whispered against Rain’s hair. It’s like he’s talking to himself, but there’s an edge to his tone. “No one said a word about it. Then Cain left early. He walked right the fuck out.”
“And the… initiate? Did you meet him?” My voice is cracked from lack of water and a surplus of exhaustion. But I have to keep up with these things. Not just because I’m part of this now, but because if I don’t have something else to do, something to occupy my mind with… well, all I think about is Rain. His breathing, his feeding, how easy it would be for him to drown in a bath or to roll on his stomach one night and stop breathing.
It’s paranoia, drilling holes inside my head. I don’t even know how to talk about it. Say all these vile thoughts out loud. It’s like I’m walking a tightrope and one wrong move, my son falls from my arms.
Lucifer’s demon blue eyes drift open, and he holds my gaze, his mouth still pressed to Rain’s head. “No. They’re just fucking with our heads.” He keeps the words a whisper, but there’s venom in them, likeI’mto blame.
I know it’s not about me though. Maybe there’s frustration from our fight this week, but what’s really irritating him is the fact he’s being kept in the dark.
I have a few things I could teach him about that, but I don’t bother.
Regardless, it’s smart for a cult. Forwar,where the winning side is their fathers, dangling knowledge above their heads, just out of reach, letting them feed from scraps but never an entire meal.
I think they’re doing this because of Rain. Because they sense Lucifer’s loyalties have shifted toward his family, and that could represent a threat for the 6. If Lucifer channeled his power—his leverage with his own brothers—toward control and rising in the ranks, it could be a disaster to Elijah and what’s left of his brotherhood.
I curl my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my shins as I rest my chin on my knees. I try my best to ignore Lucifer’s edgy words as I watch Rain’s little back rise and fall beneath my husband’s hand. “Anything more on Natalie’s brother?”
Surprising me, he has a quick response. “Elijah said Samson had some kind of conspiracy theory social media account which is a big fucking red flag for all of us, but not enough to die for, unless…” He trails off, then his words turn sharp as he lifts his head, carefully cradling Rain’s in one hand. “He actuallysawsomething.” There’s electricity in his words, but it isn’t the kind that supplies power. It’s the type to blow fuses. His eyes narrow on me. “Atlas wouldn’t be that stupid. But what if…” There’s a bristling to his tone that causes goosebumps to rise on the back of my neck. “You read the news. Governor Phil was in the hospital but what they didn’t report was the fact hisentirecomputer system, in the governor’s mansion, was hacked. Did you know that?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the wind pick up. Fall leaves swirl in a gust of it, flicking against the windowpane behind Lucifer’s desk. An omen of the coming storm between us.
“Anytime I try toknowanything, you shut me out. Like two nights ago with the fucking newspapers. How would I know that?” I counter. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, as if I have some part in hacking the governor’s computer system, which is insane. “You tell me absolutelynothing,Lucifer.”
He said this house isours,this office, everything in it,but sometimes, nothing feels like ours. It’s all his. It all belongs to him. His cult, friends, family, work, house, cars. I glance at Rain, still oblivious to the tension between his parents. Rain is his too. Hisson,and not just biologically. I wouldn’t be able to run to save us, Rainy.The 6 would kill us first.
“Yeah, but maybe someonedidtell you something, baby girl. You’ve always been so good at getting people to expose themselves to you.”
I grit my teeth as his innuendo.
“And the rumor going around is Order offuckingRain had a little something to do with the hacking.” The violence in his words causes me to flinch, and with mention of the Order, I’m completely thrown off, but now I see why Lucifer is getting himself so worked up.
I stare at Rain’s back.
Today marks five days since Lucifer bit me. Itstillhurts, my flesh swollen and tender. His anger now reminds me of the rage in his teeth then.
I twist my fingers together in my lap, but I don’t say a word.
“Tell me, Lilith. What did he tell you? What do you know? Maybe Samson was being fed information against us, and perhapsyouknow exactly what that is. I mean, it wasn’t so long ago you were lettinghimput his fucking hands all over you.” I know who he means and it isn’t Samson.
Bile works its way up my throat. It’s like an assault of flashbacks when he brings Jeremiah up, and it’s not just about my time spent with the Order. I remember other things too.WhyI ran. The fear I felt around my own husband.
