Fourteen ◑ The Fight

Lucille snapped awake, and this time she knew it was for real.

Thank God it was just a dream. A flashback, a memory—whatever. The important thing was that it wasn't real. Her heart was still pounding, her skin still hot. There was no wound in her abdomen, and she was in her bedroom. Safe.

The sensation of her bed beneath her flooded her with relief, but it quickly dissipated once she saw who were standing over her bed.

Agnes, teary-eyed and scared.

And Dimitri, with his sad amber eyes and tousled hair and his presence in her weird fucking dream.

"What the hell?" Lucille pulled her covers over her body. "Why are you here? Why is this dog here?"

"The dog has ears, Lucille," Dimitri said exasperatedly before turning to Agnes. "I told you she's alive. A shame it is too."

"Miss Lucille!" Agnes warbled, jumping on the bed and throwing herself at Lucille. "I was so worried. . . ."

"What's happening?" Lucille demanded, sitting up. Her robes were damp with sweat. Even though she was worried about Agnes, who was now sobbing against her shoulder, her defenses still rose at the sight of Dimitri. "Seriously. Why are you here and why are you in my room?"

Agnes pulled away and wiped her face. "You weren't waking up. I thought you were just being lazy, but I tried everything and you didn't even move. I was scared, so I called Dimitri."

"And I confirmed for her that you're not dead," Dimitri put in blandly. "You're just having a—"

"Thanks for your input, now get out of my room," Lucille interjected coldly. "Out, Dimitri. Be a good boy."

The god didn't move. "I didn't heed Agnes's call to bring the disappointing news of you being alive. I'm here to address your recklessness."

"You little shit," Lucille hissed, throwing her covers off of herself.

Agnes yelped and backed out into the corner while Lucille leapt out of the bed with the full intent of strangling Dimitri. However, he didn't even flinch like she'd hoped. His lack of reaction made her falter. That, and the fact that he looked exceptionally good in a black turtleneck, a black cashmere coat, and dark jeans.

He was still a dick, though. And she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the nuts.

She did exactly that once she got within a decent distance of him, but her foot just passed through him as though he were made of smoke.

Dimitri sighed. "You just never learn, don't you?"

"That's what you think," she said through gritted teeth, summoning her power of fire. Flames danced across her palms, strong and bright, unlike the useless shit she'd managed yesterday.

Oh, this was going to hurt Dimitri.

"Miss Lucille?" Agnes squeaked. "Um, please don't use your power to burn a god—"

"I don't care," Lucille declared.

"She doesn't," Dimitri told Agnes with the faintest trace of a sneer. "She never does."

That was the breaking point for Lucille. She raised her hand to deliver a literal burning slap to Dimitri's face, but he grabbed her wrist just in time.

The fire in her hands vanished instantly. Agnes, who'd been running towards them, was now frozen mid-step. The world had gone completely still. The usual buzz of the morning was gone—the cars, the people, the activity.

Dimitri had just stopped time. Again. And now he'd cancelled her powers too.

"Next time," he said, releasing her with a slight push, "listen to your friend. You have no idea what I can do to you."

Lucille's temper reached an unbelievably high peak, she was so mad and so embarrassed that for a moment she lost all kinds of sensation. She picked up the first thing that she saw on the nightstand—her antique glass lamp—and chucked it at Dimitri.

The lamp shattered against the wall with a loud crash. Glass shards and debris scattered everywhere. Dimitri's eyes widened like he couldn't believe she'd dared to do that.

But she wasn't done.

She began to pick up random things from the floor and her bed, from her fluffy slippers to her pillows, and hurled them all at him. While the lamp had shocked him, the next items didn't seem to affect him at all. He watched her with his hands in his coat pockets, his eyes narrowed in amusement. Only when she started to move on to the larger, harder things did he begin to frown at her with what appeared like concern.

"Um, Lucille?" He approached her cautiously. "Stop. Just stop for a moment."

"No!" she snarled, taking the glass of water in the nightstand and pitching it at him. "I hate you. I just hate you with all my fucking—"

"Hate me later," Dimitri reached towards her. "Let me do this first."

Lucille thought his outstretched hands will close around her neck, but no. He wasn't about to choke her. He just gently took the edges of her robe and pulled them over her breasts.

Then he stepped back, his cheeks pink. He couldn't quite look at her.

Well, shit. Not only had she been making a fool of herself by throwing stuff that passed through his body. She'd also done so while flashing him her bare chest.

Great. Just fantastic.

"What do you want?" Tired and ashamed, Lucille plopped on the edge of her bed. "Make it quick, please."

"I want you to behave." Dimitri was immediately back to business. "Like I said, I'm here to talk about your absolute abandon of reason. You're doing something that's tipping the balance of your life force and your power. Simply put, you're putting yourself in danger. I saw you yesterday, unable to use your magic—"

"You were following me?" Lucille's ears were ringing. "You were watching me?"

"Yes and no," he replied after a beat. "That isn't even the point. Your powers were faltering and now you got locked in your own memory."

So that was a memory. Chills ran down her spine. It was so old, though. The setting. It had looked like those sets in Greek movies. Was that her old life? Was the man supposed to be her husband?

Because she'd been married before, right? She'd almost died from that marriage too, after her husband cheated. It was the sole purpose of her powers, her immortality. Fate and Death had given her this life as a reward, a lesson.

What if Dimitri was actually her old husband? What if that was the reason why she kept seeing him in these flashbacks?

No. That was impossible. The man couldn't be Dimitri. Surely her brain just couldn't conjure a proper male face.

Okay, this wasn't good. Her old life was starting to come back, and so far she didn't like any of it.

"Do you realize what's happening?" he continued. "You're starting to remember. You were almost trapped in whatever memory you were in. If this happens again—"

"Get out." Her voice cut through his. "Out. Now."

Dimitri's expression hardened, but he didn't say anything. Lucille could tell that he wanted to, though. But the same time, she didn't want to listen to what he had to say. All she could think about was the surge of betrayal that she'd felt in that dream, coupled with the outrage that took over her when she'd found out what he'd been doing.

And perhaps her scathing emotions showed a bit too much, because Dimitri just turned around and vanished in a wisp of black smoke.

The noise in their surroundings came back in a full wave. Agnes unfroze with a gasp. She was about to rush towards Lucille, no doubt to ask what had happened, but Lucille stopped her short.

"I don't like that you asked him to come here," she said without preamble.

"I know." Agnes shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I'm sorry about that. I was just worried."

Lucille didn't speak, mainly because she understood how terrifying it must have been, to see someone alive yet unmoving. She'd definitely be crying for help if the situations were reversed and she'd have to wake Agnes. But of course, Dimitri would be her last choice.

Still, she didn't say anything. Agnes bit her lip. "So, uh, did he tell you what he's been observing?"

"Yeah, he was yapping—" Lucille stopped short. "Wait, how did you know?"

"I just assumed," Agnes said in a high-pitched voice. "You know, because he said it before he froze me."

If there was something that would cause the downfall of their little revenge unit, it was Agnes's inability to lie. Even the centuries that had passed by didn't fix that. From a tiny lip quiver to a downright aversion of eye contact, she'd always give something away.

And she was doing that right now, basically skipping in her spot, her eyes flitting everywhere but at Lucille's face.

"You were talking with him, weren't you?" Lucille said. "How long has this been going on?"

Fiddling with the hem of her blouse, Agnes hesitated, but in the end she down her stated, "Since the candle was lit. We've been talking a lot. He drops by when you're not around."

Anger rose in Lucille's throat like bile. "Just so you know, he drops by the office too."

"I know that." Agnes bowed her head, twisting her hands together. "I actually sent him there to watch over you."

For a split-second, Lucille was sure she hadn't heard her right, but then the words began to settle inside her mind. They pierced through her disbelief, zooming in like arrows. She clenched her hands, wishing Dimitri was still here so she could direct all this violent fury at him.

But he wasn't here. It was Agnes who was standing in front of her, and she was the one who'd told him to do it.

Agnes flinched when Lucille looked at her, but she stood her ground. "Miss Lucille, you have to understand. The candle lighting up means that something bad is going to happen. It means that you're approaching danger. It means that your past and your present will collide soon. I don't want you to be hurt . . . or worse. I just want you to be safe and seeing that I have no power to protect you—"

"I don't need protection." Lucille's flinty eyes punctured right through Agnes's explanation. "What I need are people who won't do stupid, pointless things behind my back."

"But you don't seem to see the real danger of it," Agnes insisted. "I just think that you're not supposed to be doing these punishments anymore. I feel like doing revenge for other people at this time is making things worse—"

"It's what I'm supposed to do!" Lucille's voice broke at the last word. "It's my life. Asking me to stop is like asking me to stop living."

Agnes's eyes shone with tears. "I just don't want you to end up doing something you'll regret later. I did it because I care."

Yes, Lucille knew that, but she didn't want to accept that it was true. She didn't want to acknowledge the fact that since the candle was lit, a lot of bad signs had already manifested. Her dreams, her chest pains, and her loss of power yesterday. She didn't even want to think that there was a possibility of her past coming back in a pace she couldn't handle.

All she wanted was for things to come back to normal, for her to stay in a position of power and control.

And right now, she resented Agnes for feeding into her fear, for basically shoving in her face that she approaching an end.

"I have to go," Lucille said curtly, getting to her feet and heading towards the door. "I'll leave early so you and dear Dimitri could spend some alone time plotting how to spy on me."

Agnes exhaled. "Miss Lucille—"

She raised a hand to stop her. "I can take care of myself. You of all people should know that. Do you think I don't know what that stupid candle means?"

Silence. Agnes didn't answer. She just looked away.

"It's an insult," Lucille continued. "And it's the last time I'll ever tolerate it from you. One more slip-up, and I'll throw you out."