Page 90 of Dark Prince

The man responsible for Lucas’s brother’s death.

Cephalus spreads his hands, his eyes locked on Lucas’s. “Nothing to say?”

He pauses for a moment, more dramatic than expectant, as if he doesn’t really expect an answer. Then he nods. Without another word, he rushes across the roof, his movements a blur. At first I think he must’ve hit me, because I go flying—but then I realize that it was Lucifer tossing me out of the way. I land, uninjured, several feet away just as Cephalus strikes Lucifer hard enough to send him hurtling back against the elevator doors.

“You could have blocked that,” Cephalus spits, disgusted. “You’re distracted! Just like you to throw away a victory over a human pet.”

Lucas roars and strikes back at his father with his talons, swinging his arms in large arcs. “Just like you to keep fighting a pointless battle!”

Cephalus takes the hit and uses the momentum to whip around, elbow aimed at Lucas’s—Lucifer’s—head. Lucifer blocks the blow with a jab and follows with a slash of his talons, which Cephalus blocks. They’re evenly matched, even more than Lucifer and Naamah were. They’re so far out of my league I can’t even begin to imagine how to help.

“Pointless! That’s the problem with youth these days. All instant gratification, no sense of discipline.” Cephalus punctuates the last word with a blow that connects hard. “Loyalty.”Another blow.“Patience.”

Lucifer, crouching, blocks the last blow and grabs Cephalus’s wrist, yanking so that the older man tumbles over his shoulder and crashes to the roof. Before Lucifer can turn on him, Cephalus is back on his feet.

“I know more about patience than you do, old man,” Lucifer snarls. “I’m not the one sending my best people to their deaths on half-baked ideas!” He swipes at his father with a vicious snarl. For a moment, neither of them say anything, too focused on the physical battle, locked in a violent tangle. They tumble, only coming to a stop once Cephalus has Lucifer in a headlock, his knee braced against Lucifer’s spine.

“No,” Cephalus growls. “You prefer to let your inner circle stagnate. To wound it, leaving it open to infection. To corruption.”

“Says the man married to my mother,” Lucifer chokes out between his teeth.

Cephalus chuckles. It’s an evil sound, full of loathing.

“You still don’t understand,” he spits out. “Your mother is mine. In every way. She wanted it, and I made it so. I gave her exactly what she asked for. Imagine the damage your mother, scorned, could do to me. Better to keep her close and use her to my purpose.”

Rule number one: never talk shit about a man’s mother in the middle of a fight—even if he isn’t particularly fond of the woman.

Lucifer snaps, breaking free of Cephalus’s hold and breaking Cephalus’s shoulder and elbow in the process. The sound of bones crunching makes me wince, and Cephalus darts out of reach, shouting with pain, his useless arm hanging beside him.

“You should have taken that lesson!” he bellows. “To choose! To act! Indecision is death. How many times have I told you that?”

Lucifer growls, poised to attack, but he doesn’t. He draws up short, his eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about? Has senility finally taken control?”

Cephalus rolls his shoulder with several loud, sickening cracks. He flexes his arm, which is no longer ruined, and glares at Lucifer. “Better senile than stupid. You knew Naamah’s feelings and discarded her, but kept her close. Short-sighted and stupid to think you can have it all. The woman and the freedom. Never could make a choice, could you?”

“What did you do?” Lucifer demands in a growl. His muscles coil, ready to spring.

His father grins at him. “I merely gave the woman a shoulder to cry on. Convinced her that the environment on Earth was fucking with your head, making you believe yourself to be responsible for the pitiful creatures who live here. She knew, via my messengers, that the only way to force you to come to your senses was to take you back to your rightful place in Hell.”

Lucifer springs forward, flying at his father. “It was you! Wreaking havoc on my streets, sewing discord in my city, on my plane, sending demons to attack me in my own home!You!”

They fight with renewed fury, each of them lashing out with what would be devastating blows if they were fighting anyone but each other. In spite of the speed, I manage to find the pattern. Lucifer is earnestly trying to kill his father, but it seems like Cephalus is holding back.

He still wants Lucifer on his side, I realize.

He isn’t trying to kill him. He’s trying to disable him enough to capture him. I don’t know for sure, but that sounds like an easier goal to accomplish, and it fits everything I’ve learned about Cephalus so far. He never gives up on what he wants. When one path to his goal is cut off to him, he simply finds a new way and keeps forging ahead.

As they thrash and growl, Cephalus manages to get Lucifer pinned against the wall and growls in his ear.

“Watch what you accuse me of, boy,” he snarls. “You brought this attack upon yourself by flaunting that short-lived piece of ass in front of Naamah. It might have taken me another hundred years to convince her to act—after all, she learned from you—if it weren’t for your stupid mistake.”

“Acting without thinking is the stupid mistake,” Lucifer growls. “I’d tell you to ask Naamah about that, but her actions resulted in her death.”

There’s a beat of silence, broken only by their struggle, as Cephalus takes that information in.

“You killed her,” he says, sounding stunned. He releases Lucifer just enough for Lucifer to turn around, then slams his son’s face with a punishing blow. “You wasteful, arrogant, fool!”

He kicks Lucifer in the ribs, cracking them.

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