Black Spring

It would even fit in with Daharan’s warning to Jude to look to his past for the reason why his pack was being targeted by an unknown enemy. Lucifer and Judas had a long and storied relationship, and Lucifer seemed to enjoy messing with Jude’s head for petty reasons of his own.

I glanced at Lucifer from the corner of my eye, wondering. My grandfather was feeding Evangeline morsels from his own plate. Their overly affectionate display made me shudder. Beezle looked up from his intense concentration on his meal.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said, and went back to eating. It was some kind of squash soup, and it tasted pretty good.

After a bit, the soup plates were cleared away and out came a salad. Beezle moved the greens around his plate in distaste.

“Rabbit food,” he pronounced.

“Not everything can be deep-fried,” I said.

“Even lettuce could be improved by the liberal application of beer batter and frying oil,” he said. “And maybe cheese sauce.”

The resulting image was so unappetizing that I pushed my salad fork away. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore during dinner. Somehow I always end up losing my appetite.”

Nathaniel opened his mouth, doubtless to inform me that I needed to eat to keep the baby healthy, but Lucifer beat him to it.

“You must eat, Madeline,” Lucifer said. “My grandson needs plenty of nourishment. He is growing quickly.”

“As is our own child,” Evangeline cut in, possessively rubbing the bulge of her belly.

“Of course,” Lucifer said. “But I do not have to fret over you eating enough. You are staying here under my watchful eye, which Madeline refuses to do.”

“I am certain Madeline is old enough to take care of herself,” Evangeline said dismissively. “I don’t see that it is necessary for her to house with us.”

Lucifer clearly did not care for Evangeline’s attitude. “Madeline has been involved in many dangerous incidents since becoming pregnant. And every child of my line is important to me.”

He said this with a finality that made it clear he would not tolerate any disparaging remarks about me or my offspring.

“Of course, darling,” Evangeline cooed, but her face was wrinkled in distaste.

It was no secret that Evangeline wanted Lucifer to prioritize her child over all his others—his many, many others. Lucifer certainly had not been faithful to Evangeline’s memory in the years since she had been taken from him. But Evangeline had a special hatred for me, because I would not allow myself to be used as her tool of revenge against Ariell and Ramuell.

The funny thing was that the reason Lucifer held me in such high esteem was because I was the last direct link to the children he’d had with Evangeline so many centuries before. Evangeline didn’t share his nostalgic feelings. She saw me as an obstacle to her goal—the complete and total monopolization of Lucifer’s affection. She didn’t just want to be queen of his kingdom. She wanted to be queen of his heart, and she would do anything to get that.

I had noticed that Zaniel was not seated at the main table, even though he was Lucifer’s son. He was at a table with several other angelic-looking creatures, who were quite possibly his half siblings. I wondered why Lucifer had put his other children at another table when he was so interested in a show of family strength. Was it because those children had not shown themselves to be exceptional? Or was it Evangeline’s influence? If she had her way, she would probably eliminate every child of Lucifer’s bloodline, excepting her own and starting with me.

There were already plenty of people present who would be happy to see me dead. Focalor. Alerian. Oberon. Nameless members of the faerie court who hated me for killing Amarantha and Titania. In fact, when I glanced around at the tables full of guests talking and laughing, I did not see a convivial party. I saw a nest of vipers waiting to strike. I pushed the plate of salad away from me to indicate that it could be cleared.

“See, you don’t want the rabbit food, either,” Beezle said.

“I just don’t have much appetite right now,” I said quietly, hoping Lucifer would not overhear. He was engaged in conversation with Evangeline and Puck, any previous signs of strife forgotten. “For some reason I keep thinking about all the people in this room who want to kill me.”

“Yes, I keep thinking of that as well,” Nathaniel said.

He had been so quiet that I’d nearly forgotten his presence. Now I realized he was on high alert, like Samiel and Jude. Waves of tension radiated off him.

“Gargoyle, can you not see the shapeshifter in this room?” Nathaniel said. “His presence should be easy to discern with all of the guests before you.”

Beezle shook his head. Despite his protestations of “rabbit food,” I noticed he was gnawing on a piece of carrot. “He must have slipped out another door when everyone exited the main hall.”

“So he’s probably not disguised as one of the guests,” I said. “The people who arrived with him would notice him missing, especially during dinner.”