“Are you ready?” he asked, not talking about the order he gave us but rather if I were ready for whatever Lucifer had in store.
“Are you?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Then you know my answer,” I nodded. “Whatever happens in there, we stick together. I know that I wasn’t too excited about this whole situation very long ago, but you guys are attached to me somehow. The threat against me? The reason Lucifer wanted me protected? You’re all involved, Lanier. Tell me you know that.”
He walked out of the bathroom and headed into the closet, avoiding my question. Frustrated, I followed after him after dropping the dress back on the bed. His energy was strong, radiating determination and heart stopping power. He pulled open the towel and threw it into the corner of the closet, giving me a perfect view of his ass.
Goddamn.
I bit my lip, trying to stay focused, but his scent was overwhelming. I felt my own power rising, sensing his and wanting to come out and play. I held it back, searching for Bestia. She was there, watching me, waiting for orders.
“That was your blood on the roses,” Lanier stated in a hard but controlled voice. He picked out a pair of boxers and pulled them on, anger vibrating through the room around me.
“It was.” I nodded.
He turned to face me, meeting my eyes. His powerful, inked body on display, fury floating along the surface of his skin. I understood. I hadn’t fought or been to the gym in days, so my body was on fire, adrenaline and resolve flooding my veins. This was the kind of danger I craved.
He watched me for a moment while I stood in front of him, waiting to hear what he’d say next. “Get dressed and bring your gun to me when you’re finished, I’ll find a place to hide it under your dress. The guys and I are going to gear up—I’m not taking any chances.”
I nodded, agreeing, but there was something else I needed him to do. “Don’t tell them about the roses, please.”
He studied me, his seafoam eyes hard. He nodded in understanding. “I won’t.”
With that, I left him nearly naked in the closet and headed for the shower.
I was going to find out what we were dealing with. It seemed like Lucifer either wanted me dead or was warning me that someone else did. Something was at work here, and I was going to figure out what it was.
Tonight.
I was ready.
Fear gripped my throat, held my organs in its vicious claws.
Death was on Anna’s head, and I couldn’t fucking figure out why.
My beast paced my mind, the bond still twisting with worry, vibrating with the power that linked us all together, and I tried to keep my expression neutral so that I didn’t tip off my brothers.
Telling them that it was Anna’s blood on the roses would be detrimental to our mission. Quint would lose his fucking mind, and Cabe would suggest we find a way to get out of going at all. He’d want to hide her away, protect her from any and all harm. We would argue, Anna would get upset, and whoever was watching us would know for sure that we had a creature in our penthouse that was more powerful than any Neph I’d ever met before—if they didn’t already know.
No, we had to keep the roses a secret.
Her scent was already all over the house, and she was standing in the room when we opened the box, so only I was able to pick up on the true scent of her blood. After all, I had tasted it on my tongue.
I’d know her scent anywhere.
“Cabe, strap up. Quint, you too,” I ordered, coming into the living room in the tux that Lucifer picked out. All three of us wore the same one, all black, fitted and perfectly glued to our bodies. The material felt expensive and well-made, though that wasn’t surprising given that Lucifer—and Quint by association—was rich as fuck.
The only difference between the three suits was the masks that Lucifer had sent for us to wear, as if we were going to a masquerade ball. Mine was made of pure iron that had been pressed thin but still felt heavy on my face. Between the dark color and the pattern I recognized, the mask appeared to look like the lace of Annalise’s dress. Cabe’s was the same design but made of pure flat-pressed silver. Quint’s was identical but instead painted the color of blood, matching his eyes, and was made of some kind of metal I couldn’t recognize under the paint, though it looked heavy like my own.
I stood by the window and waited as everyone finished preparing to leave.
I felt sick and hungry all at the same time. The scent of Annalise’s blood had me itching to go upstairs and find her just for one taste, but the circumstances surrounding the scent made me stand rooted in my spot. Her blood on white roses. Where had Lucifer gotten it? How had he gotten it?
I didn’t have time to ask Annalise if she had any clue, knowing that she would need every second of the time we were given to prepare. I wanted her to be levelheaded and focused. The blood didn’t seem to bother her, confusing me even more, but I chalked it up to her simply being fearless. She knew death was calling her name, and she planned to meet it head on.
“Holy fuck,” Cabe said under his breath from somewhere in the room. I turned around to see Annalise coming down the stairs.
My heart stopped beating; my chest cracked in two.
She was the most exquisite creature I’d ever laid eyes on.
The dress she wore looked brutal and ancient when it was laid out on my bed, but actually on her? She was beautiful darkness, a wicked weapon, a deliciously lethal creature.
The dress hugged her curves, making her breasts look like fucking pillows against her skin. Her silky dark hair hung around her shoulders in a sleek curtain, her lips painted the darkest purple, her eyes framed with smoky black eyeshadow, sharp eyeliner and long eyelashes. Those lilac pools looked too bright to ever be considered Human.
It was as if the night sky came to kiss her flesh with moonlight and soak her in shadows.
She looked like a queen who was missing her crown.
The dress itself was made of thick black lace, falling around her black heels and trailing a couple feet behind her. She had filed her nails to dull almond-shaped points and painted them red, leaving her skin looking smooth and pale until the sleeves began. Covered in sheer lace, the material came to a point, wrapped around a silver ring that fit on both of her middle fingers, covering half of her hand in the delicate pattern.
Fucking beautiful.
“We match you,” Quint said, tilting his head to the side as he walked toward her. His ash colored hair stood out like her eyes against all the black material surrounding our group. “You’re fucking perfect, Minx.”
She gave him a blinding smile and straightened his tie when he came to a stop before her. She said, “You asked me once if I ever got sick of the dark.”
He nodded, grabbing a lock of her hair in between his fingers. I stood, fascinated, as her very presence calmed him down, rooted him in place. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Tonight we’re walking into darkness, and we’ll be going in blind.” She looked at all of us, her eyes scanning our faces. “I don’t trust easily—I don’t want to trust at all—but in order to get out of this alive, I have a feeling that we’re going to need to truly trust each other, trust the bond.”
She paused, inhaling deeply before she looked Quint in the eyes and said, “I told you no, that I never get sick of the dark, but tonight…I don’t want to face it alone.”