Black Spring
Page 47

I gave the servant a dirty look. “No way.”
He seemed taken aback at my vehemence. “But Lord Lucifer wishes . . .”
“I’m not sitting up there like a monkey on display,” I said.
The servant hesitated, uncertain how to handle an intractable grandchild of his master. Suddenly Lucifer himself was there, speaking quietly to the servant, then guiding me toward the upper table. Nathaniel followed behind.
“There is no need to, as you would put it, shoot the messenger,” Lucifer said. I thought he would remark on my inappropriate attire, but he said nothing about it. “The servant was simply doing as I asked.”
“I don’t want to sit where everyone can gawp at me,” I said.
“But I do want you to sit where everyone can see you, especially after that little display,” Lucifer said, and his voice was filled with deep satisfaction. “Everyone in this room has now felt what my granddaughter is capable of.”
He steered me to the chair to his immediate left and seated Nathaniel beside me. There was a small plate in between our chairs for Beezle, who hopped down and rubbed his hands together.
“When’s the first course? I didn’t get any of those appetizers that were circling the room with the cocktails,” Beezle said.
Servants were moving around the room spooning soup into bowls, so Beezle didn’t have long to wait. I averted my eyes once he started eating. Soup and Beezle are not a good combination, especially since Beezle won’t wear a bib.
Evangeline was on Lucifer’s right with Alerian and Puck beside her. There was an empty chair next to Nathaniel’s. Lucifer saw me looking at it.
“That is for Daharan. I am frankly surprised he did not arrive with you,” Lucifer said.
“I haven’t seen him for three days,” I said. “He walked out of the house and never came back. I thought you might have something to do with his disappearing act, actually. You or Alerian.”
“Not Puck?” Lucifer asked with a raised eyebrow as he sat down.
“My impression was that he liked to keep his distance from Daharan,” I said.
Lucifer laughed, and Evangeline glared in my direction. That is, she glared as much as an eyeless person can. My many-greats-grandmother has no particular love for me. She does not like anyone who distracts Lucifer’s attention from her. I really wanted to tell her she could have him and all the baggage that came with him.
I studiously looked down at my plate as dinner was served. I was more than a little irritated that Lucifer had managed to turn the attempt on my life into an advantage for himself. Especially since he’d expressed no interest in the reason why I was using magic in the first place.
Unless he knows why, I thought. Unless he knows who the shifter’s master is. Unless he IS the shifter’s master.
I paused, my soup spoon halfway to my lips. It was possible. It was just possible that Lucifer, like Puck before him, was manipulating me. Lucifer wanted me to come to the dark side. What better way to get me over there than to threaten my life again and again, make me lose my control of my power?
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.