Ethereal

Nina's POV

England

1868

I bent to pick up my bloodied dagger. It was an old thing I had stolen from my Father when I was young, he had given it to me once he found out. The hilt had golden Celtic knots carved into it. Lucas—hmm, Lucifer?—looked at me with an arched eyebrow, I quietly stashed my weapon away.

"It was a gift," I muttered, unsure why I was explaining myself to a liar.

Nodding his head, he repeated, "Walk."

He gave a light push forward, I went, not wanting to add new cuts to myself or my clothes. I made a face, noticing a big tear in my gown. It started at the foot, going up to my knee. I tugged on the cape's edges, but it only reached my waist, leaving the tear and skin visible.

Lucas was walking beside me, his hand had dropped from my back, but I felt him side-glancing. His shoulders were relaxed, guard slightly lowered. Was he still holding Uriel frozen?

"Stop using," came the sudden tingly voice. I looked at him, puzzled. "You're using your Power. Don't, Angels can sense it."

Honestly I had not noticed until Lucas said so, but I was using. It was normal I did not notice, though. In certain situations, it was like breathing. My healing ability had kicked in, closing cuts, urging bruises to fade.

"I am healing,"

"You will survive a little longer without healing those. Their nothing serious."

His dismissal irked me. A minute ago, he had assured me protection, now he told me to stop healing? It did not seem he cared for my health, at all. Although most cuts were minor, except for a nasty gash along my forearm. That one hurt, it bled over my sea-weed gown and red cape.

His fingers curled on my right wrist.

"I can protect you. Do not doubt it, but if you could follow my orders it would be helpful. Otherwise, Angels are going to come here—very fast—and this lovely piece of scenery will become a gory battlefield." His face became somber, I swallowed thickly under the stare. "And those deaths will be on you. It is your choice."

It tore me to let him win, but I did not want blood on my hands and the way his eyes gleamed... I knew Lucas would spill it.

"Alright," I mentally reigned in my Power, slowing the healing factor to a minimum, almost human paced. As we began walking again, I winced a few times. The tear in my arm stung immensely.

"Well," I began. "What should I call you? Devil, Lucifer, Satan—Mephistopheles? There are so many to choose from. I could use a different one every week day."

My words came out mocking, bitter and hurt. Although I could not understand the last one. Had I actually thought this Fallen enjoyed me—my presence? Foolish.

He ceased walking. I nearly hit his broad back. Lucas... Lucifer twisted around, throwing a shaded glare over a shoulder.

"You are upset."

"How perceptive of you."

"Why? I did not lie."

"You did not...? Oh, God. Are you utterly insane? You lied about who you were! You told me your name was Lucas, not..."

"It was not a lie," he raised his voice above mine, silencing me. "Lucas was my former name. After the Fall I took on a new name. Lucifer. They mean the same in case you do not know. Light bringer."

Shaken with surprise and exhaustion, I spoke no more, following his every step. It soon became abundantly clear I was not returning home—today. Because I fully intended to back tomorrow. Even if I had to outrun the King of Hell.

I found myself deeper in Sherwood than ever. A strange heavy mist lingered on the wide clearing we were walking into. The sharp humidity grazed my skin, freezing my veins when it came in contact with my gashes.

"Just what is..."

Slowly, fog parted out of our way. The way I imagined the sea had parted for Moises—according to my Mother, it had been Gabriel—an Archangel—who had aided him in such feat.

"Are you doing this?" he nodded curtly. "Can you... manipulate weather, then? Not just thunder?"

"Each Archangel has the ability to manipulate and create one element. Earth for Uriel, wind for Raphael, water for Gabriel, fire for Michael. Me—I got something a bit... different. Weather is not an element and, in its essence, electricity is not one, either. It combines a spark of fire, air and water."

"In other words, you're more powerful."

"Your words not mine."

Ahead, was a large house. It was all made from white-stained marble. Foliage grew up its walls, vines and musk making it less pompous and more rural.

Lucas climbed the first set of stairs before stopping, realizing I still stood still at the bottom. He stared meaningfully at me. I heaved a breath, taking my first step into a bigger mess. Finally at the top, Lucifer grasped a handle to the heavy oak door, pushing it back.

I had expected to find some sort of grotesque setting, screams hollering from the depths of a dingy dungeon. Instead,

I was met with a wide round hall, lit by several tall iron candelabra, each holding five candles.

I stepped inside to escape the brisk air, it was strangely warm in the house, like someone had kept a fire burning. But that would mean someone else stayed here and honestly, I could not imagine someone who would voluntarily stay with this man—knowing who he was.

"Go on," Lucas nodded toward the small hallway. "It leads into the parlor, kitten, not a chamber of torture."

Feeling the tips of my cheeks tinted pink, I took careful, measured steps down the barren hallway. My heart leaped to my throat as my eardrums caught another heartbeat—followed by heavy footsteps. Not two seconds later, a tall young man—around Lucas' age—stormed through the front door. With uncanny speed he slammed it shut and walked up to Lucas, a very annoyed expression on his handsome face.

"Thank you for the storm! It sent all wildlife into hiding. Just when I had my sights on two grouses, too." His words were laced in a thick British accent. "Great timing, highness."

The fact this man was mocking the Devil both amused and frightened me. Who was he?

"Is this your way of telling me there will not be any dinner?"

The gorgeous twenty-year old boy slicked his brown, neck length hair back. He sighed.

"Except for bread and fruit—no. There will not."

Lucas blinked, "Okay." He said, shrugging. "Oh, Etna, this is Romeo. My right hand." He explained after noticing my perplexed expression. "And he is a Cambion."

I did not know what to say when Romeo smiled—beamed—at me. As if he had only now seen me. My brain let the Cambion detail sink in. I wanted to hurt Lucas.

"You brought me to a Cambion?"

"No. I brought you to my current house and Romeo happens to stay where I stay, when I need him."

"I am a Nephilim! He could kill me in my sleep."

"He could kill you right now. You are not too good with dodging, as I recall." Oh. He was going to see what I was good at—

"I am going to let you two lovers bicker in peace." Romeo pipped up, slipping between us as he headed into the parlor.

As quickly as it had spiked, anger drained away, leaving me to stare at a grinning Devil. God Almighty, that Cambion had a death wish. Although I was more likely to die at his hands, I was—as much as I hated to admit—a newbie when it came to fighting and defending myself.

That was the problem with a sheltered life, you grew to depend only on others and not enough on yourself.

"What..."

Color pooled into my cheeks as Lucas' hovered my body, coming closer, backing me into a wall. He put both hands on either side of my head—there was no escape. My breath had stilled deep in my throat, choking my lungs and fogging my mind.

His nearness felt too hot, the space he took up was too wide and, at the same time, too little. Our skin brushed as one of Lucas' fingers touched the edge of my unhealed arm gash.

"Is this what it takes to shut you up?" he whispered lowly, dipping his head so I could see those mercury irises. I shivered once he leaned in. "I think I enjoy it."

His mouth was closing in and I... I felt my heart speeding up. I closed my eyes.

A warm, wet thing made contact with my forearm—my wound stung.

Eyes shooting open, I gaped. He was... He had... Oh my.

As Lucas pulled back my eyes held his finding some sort of word, because I could not describe what had happened. Anyone would have called it disgusting, but I... I could only stare. He licked his lips, savoring whatever blood was left. My blood.

"It was leaking," I nodded feeling stupid. "You can heal now. There are wards around the house, I had a Witch cast them. It keeps us safe from Angels or anyone who tries to find us."

"How... How can you find it, then? I thought wards kept everyone except the Witch who cast it from finding it."

"Ah, so you were taught a few things." The dumbfounded spell lifted, leaving a scowl. "It is true, unless a Witch creates a "magical key" and gives it to whoever she wants to find it." He dug out a necklace from underneath the dark shirt. It was oval shaped, an onyx gem glowed strongly and mysteriously, mirroring natural beauty at its center. Blossoming lilies surrounded the gem in a sterling silver. "The only reason you were able to get here was because you were with me, otherwise, you would have been lost."

I shivered at the thought. Wards were meant to confuse people by twisting reality, Mother once told me a person could be caught in a ward and wander for days...

"If there are wards around the house, why the fog?"

"I am very cautious."

"You mean paranoid." With a sly smirk, Lucas moved to the side, coking his head for me to walk.

This parlor was round. An elegant couch covered with animal skins sat in front of a lit fireplace. The room was cold, walls all white marble and floor was coated with white tiles. A spiraling staircase, with a black iron railing, stood behind the couch and double doors were of to the right.

"Are you hungry?"

"No," I was. But I had a feeling if I ate, I would end up vomiting.

"Alright. I will show you to your room."

Lucas climbed the winding stairs. I had to steady myself with the railing's help. My healing ability had started working again, the sudden assault of Power made me dizzy. Wounds were closing but...

Almost at the top, my body tipped forward and I slipped on my torn gown.

"Clumsy, kitten." I made a face against the strain my Power was putting on my body. Lucas slipped an arm underneath my shoulders, another under my knees. "You should have waited until you were sitting down."

"I can walk."

"This is quicker and without accidents."

There was a brief rush of air—cutting and cold—and we were somewhere else. He... he was fast. I tried ignoring how warm my cheek felt against his shoulder, or how chiseled his chest was. I could feel the hard abdominals under the shirt...

He lowered me to a surprisingly soft surface—a bed. My back leaned on feathered pillows. I eyed the room quickly, noticing no candles were lit and the only light was coming through the window. The bed was circular, ample set against a backdrop of sheer curtains and chandeliers—the curtains were red.

I pressed my lips together, inching back.

Lucas' finger brushed up against the closed-up wound on my forearm. Gray eyes danced down to where my leg was exposed. When I went to tug the cape over my skin, he reached for the strings around my neck, undoing them.

My mouth went dry. A sense of excitement had my heart doing stupid things, but there was another feeling, a cold unease at the bottom of my stomach.

Our matching gray eyes got entangled.

"You should change into something not so... torn."

"Unless you have ransacked my bedroom and stolen some of my clothes, I have nothing to wear here... What are you doing?"

Lucas had slipped off his cloak, letting it fall on the foot bed and then... then he unbuttoned the shirt. I stared stoically as he handed it over.

I did not move. Not even as he shook the material for me to take.

"If you want my pants..."

"No!" I said feeling smoke leaving my ears. "I... Put on your shirt."

Lucas sighed, "I cannot believe you people. You complain about me being evil, and when I choose to be nice, you want me to be evil. I can never get it right."

"I am certain that conundrum plagues every minute of your immortal existence."

His lids fluttered and his lips curved.

"You have no idea. Now, take the shirt, leave the shirt. Is all the same to me—I have more."

That said, the Devil left me alone in a large bedroom, his shirt and cloak on the bed for me to use.

Just what was I getting myself into?

***

It was the middle of the night. I knew this because I was awake, staring at the window. Moonlight was washing everything in silvery glow. I could not understand what kept me awake, maybe because this was not my bed, my house? Because a Cambion also lived here? Because I was in the Devil's house? Because I was wearing his clothes?

Yes, I was in his clothes.

His shirt reached below my hips.

The panther's cloak was wrapped around my whole body. It was hot—very. And yet, I could not sleep.

After tossing for God knows how long, I decided to crawl out of bed. Keeping my arms drawn around my waist—so the cloak would hug me—I walked for the door. Could I run? Were Angels really watching my home—would they hurt my family if I went there?

My Mother would tell me not to take risks. But... this time I wanted to take it.

Whatever I was doing here—whatever Lucas... Lucifer... wanted with me, it could not be good. He would not help and ask nothing in return. It was rare for normal people, more so for a Fallen.

I eased into the hall—cringing when the door squeaked. I stretched out my hearing and, with dismay, found the two house occupants awake down below.

About to retreat, my ears caught an interesting piece of talk.

"Have you told her yet?"

"No," Lucas' voice sounded deep and loud, even if he had meant it as a whisper.

"But you are going to tell her? Please tell me I did not spend months watching out for her in vain."

It was then I realized this was about me. Lucas had told me about his right hand keeping vigilance.

"Why is it so important that I share with her that we are... Well, you know." I pressed my Power, amplifying my eardrums reach. What was he talking about? We were something? Me and him? "I have no interest in it."

There was gaping silence.

"You better be joking. I spent three months of my immortal existence here—in England—to make sure it was safe. That Angels would not hail themselves here the minute you arrived... And now you do not wish to tell her?"

"I was curious about what she would be like."

I took a small breath, telling myself his dismissal did not burn.

"I have known you for a couple of hundred years," said Romeo. "I know you are not as black and white as most think."

A laugh was barked out, "Ah. But I am. I am a heartless Devil."

"If you had no heart you would not have saved me from dying. I was just an eleven year old Cambion who had been attacked by his own town—left to die—but you found me. You raised me."

"You were the first Cambion I had ever met. I was curious." Lucas answered in an absent monotone. I could imagine him lazily sitting on the sofa.

"Right. What about your brother—Gabriel? You have had several opportunities to kill him. Instead, you chat idly with him."

He had another brother? Gabriel was also an Archangel. But I had never seen him.

"Gabriel was always my favorite," I heard the smirk. "He can think for himself. Unlike all other Angels who follow Michael to death. I am quite proud of him."

"See?"

"Simply because I saved you and tolerate my brother—"

"You do more than tolerate."

"You are testing my patience, Romeo. First, you seek redeeming qualities in me—which I do not have—now you have the audacity to cut me off?"

"And you still have not broken my neck... How curious." I blinked at the tease. "Are you certain she has not yet changed you?"

My heart nearly stopped. Me... Changed him? It was not possible to change the Devil.

Dazed with confusion, I stumbled backwards, inside the bedroom. I eased the door closed.

***

Phillip's POV

Nina was sweating more by the hour. I felt helpless sitting beside her. Every time I absorbed her heat, more rushed up her veins. This fever was going nowhere.

Jade had been the one to find her like this—sprawled over her bed, sweating and unmoving. It was early, Serena and I had been asleep—in my bedroom—but she'd woken us up. I kept telling myself I was fine with waking up, 'cause this with Nina was bad.

But of all times to get high on...

"What are they, anyway?" I asked, scratching my brow.

"Datura seeds," Serena answered, sinking on bed, across from me. The vile Jade had found on Nina's loose hold in her hands—only one seed was in it. "Psychics with Nina's ability take them. They give the users Power boosts. But once they're ingested, the user can't control its Power, there's no shutting it off until they leave their system."

I trailed a finger over the back of Nina's left hand, wishing the effects would wear off. She looked so pale.

"When do you think it'll pass?" Jade toyed with the hem of her sweater.

Serena's lips—lips I wanted to kiss over and over—pinched.

"It... depends."

"On?"

"How much she took." I blinked at her, dazed. "She shouldn't have a high fever if she'd only taken one. I think she took... more."

A lump settled in my stomach.

"How many more?" Serena dipped her chin. "Serena—tell me." Of all the things I needed, protection wasn't one of them.

"Hopefully, two..." she winced. "If she took more... Two is already dangerous enough."

My mouth opened, because I needed to know what happened—what might happen, but someone beat me to it. My brother walked in, only those gray eyes weren't his, and neither was the person moving around in his body.

"If she took more than two, death is very likely to strike. Two is already risky—the human body can't handle such large amount of Power without a healing ability." Lucifer's eyes flickered from me, to the girl lying on the bed. Inside me a will of iron surged, telling me to kick the douche out...

Suddenly, her eyes jerked open.

"Nina...?"

"...I stayed with them... With him. Days turned into a week, a week turned into two..."

"What is she talking about?" Serena exchanged a glance with me.

"I don't know. It's not normal." I commented feeling like an idiot. "Nina?" I touched her cheek. It was hot again.

"He helped me, like he said he would. He encouraged me to cultivate it... my ability. One day I used... I used my gift on him—I saw! I saw his soul... I saw everything he had ever done. So many, many things—bad, awful things..."

Bed springs sunk as Lucifer sat on the other side of bed, looking down at her unseeing eyes. I smacked a hand into his shoulder, nearly toppling him off bed. I stared back at my brother's face with a raging glare.

"Are you happy now? This is your fault. You couldn't just let her work with what she had?" Serena's squeezed my thigh, but this once, I didn't back down. "She might die and it's because of you."

"Because of your brother, actually. He's what drives her."

I would've rained fire and brimstone on his ass if Nina hadn't sat up, startling all of us. She looked straight ahead, still stuck in whatever memories.

"I saw into his soul," she rasped. "It was black. Tainted in so many ways, but where there's darkness—my Mother used to say—there is light. And I saw it, the light..."

Her coughing choked any following words. I moved with tantamount speed, but Lucifer caught her first. He lowered her body back onto the bed. I wasn't a doctor, but shit was bad when you started bleeding from your nose.

Lucifer was completely caught up with Nina's heaving breaths. His eyes distant as if reliving another time, counting ghosts from another era. It was the perfect time. Cam would kill me for putting him before Nina's health—her life—but it could be our only shot.

"Serena..."

She bit her lip, nodding.

Lucifer never saw it coming. Jade jumped from bed once he grabbed his head in both hands, doubling in pain.

Serena stood, her hand pointed his way. There were chills in the air—Magic. She curled in her fingers, forming a closing fist as if she were crushing something inside it. It was hard to watch my brother's face contort in such level of pain, the redness on his cheeks, the veins popping on his neck, made me want to call it quits.

But for us to carry out Serena's plan, we needed Lucifer sedated.

Serena gritted her teeth—a sign this wasn't that easy—and the hand she'd been fisting turned up, making Cam's neck snap to the side. Broken.

The screaming stopped. Cameron's body fell, stretched out on the floor.

"No hard feelings," I whispered nearing him. I bent down grabbing his arms, hefting him up.

Serena breathed out slowly, like she couldn't believe what she'd just done.

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy," she muttered.

Jade looked between the two of us. I finished throwing Cameron over my shoulders. I had to get him downstairs and lock him up tight—fast.

"He'll be fine, Jade."

"I had a plan for freeing Cameron, yesterday. But we needed Lucifer out of the picture." Serena jumped in.

"Well, as long as he's okay... Nina wouldn't like it if Cameron was hurt."

I almost grinned. I had a feeling Jade had a soft spot for my brother.

"I'm going to take him downstairs. Find a way to help her—please." My eyes pleaded with Serena's baby-blues.

Bounding downstairs, running across the parlor room and down to our super-secret cellar, I lowered Cameron inside the holding metallic room. I made sure he was comfortable, as comfortable as one could be inside a place they hated.

I sat him up, leaning his back on the wall, before slapping Gold Chains on him. When he woke—whatever version he was—they wouldn't use Power. They'd sit here until someone let them out. It burned my throat to do this, it broke my heart and I wished I could trade places with Cam.

If he was the one to wake up... He'd be all alone. Here—in this place, of all places.

I knew he hated this cell. I remembered Raphael locking him up, using the Chains on him while he couldn't get a grip on his Power or when it got out of control.

It had been cruel—Raphael hadn't let me come down here and see him.

"I'm sorry, brother," I cupped his cheek, tilting his head against the cool wall. "This is for a good reason. I promise."