Sixty-Three ◑ The Attack

There was no other way to say it: Lucille was petrified. She couldn’t move, much less speak. She couldn’t even breathe. It was as though all the oxygen was sucked out of the room and was replaced by a poisonous gas. She wasn’t sure if she really was even there.

All she knew was that after what seemed like years, she was once again face to face with Cade.

Everything felt hazy, like a dream beginning to disappear at her waking moment. It was surreal, but he was there.

And for the first time, probably since they first saw each other, she really knew him, who he really was under all the charm and the pretenses.

He was wearing plain dark jeans and a black jacket over a white sweater. His brown hair was sweeping in level with his jaw, wavy and dark. From afar, he looked ordinary, like he’d just stumbled into this place and decided to visit. However, a closer peek at his face revealed the cracks in his confident demeanor. There were bags under his eyes. His lips were pale. Veins were protruding in his arms and his neck.

When their gazes met, a small frown broke from his neutral face, a slight sign of struggle.

But it quickly disappeared.

“Lucille,” Agnes whispered behind her, but she hardly heard. “Lucille. . . .”

She tried to say something, but no sound came from her lips.

“You’re here too, Agnes,” Cade noted calmly. “I should’ve known you’d betray me, the moment you jumped into my arms and offered to turn on Lucille. I just didn’t expect it to be this quick, this sudden.”

He took a step forward, and a wave of energy washed over the entire chapel, sweeping around them like a gentle breeze. The hairs on Lucille’s arms stood on end. The red light that bathed the walls disappeared in an instant. She was overcome with a strange sense of danger, a spike of panic that came with being cornered.

She stepped back, extending her arms to cover Agnes. “Stay where you are.”

“A difficult task to do,” Cade replied, taking another step forward. "Why don't you convince me?"

Lucille swallowed hard and drew herself to her full height. "What do you want from me, Cade?"

"Brave now, aren't you?" Cade jeered, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You know, the last time I saw you, you were dangling at the edge of a building, begging your immortal friends to save you. The last time I saw you, you were only beginning to realize just how bad you fucked up, how easily and how blindly you waltzed into a trap."

Those words pierced Lucille's fragile bravado.

Instantly, a wave of hot humiliation rode over her. Agnes was tugging at the back of her dress, whispering her name in urgent tones, but she heard none, felt none. She was submerged in shame, and in the memories that came with it.

Her regrets, the red flags she hadn't seen, the signs she'd ignored . . . all of this was condensed in a drop of poison that trickled coldly down her throat.

And it all led to here, to now, to Agnes being deformed beyond recognition, possibly beyond repair. To Dimitri and Keiran being lost in time. To Lucille being cornered and weakened by her own shortcomings.

As though reading her mind, Cade smiled and said, "I admit, it's quite a shame that the gods aren't here to accompany you. I was hoping to have a little talk with Thanatos—or Dimitri, as he calls himself now. He still owes me an apology."

The mention of Dimitri's name, as well as the malicious way it escaped Cade's mouth, made Lucille's blood boil. She gritted her teeth. "He owes you nothing."

His smile only crept wider. "He does, but you do too. And what you owe me is something I'm more interested in.

He stretched an arm towards her, his palm facing up as though he was waiting for her to set something on his hand.

For some reason, this simple gesture made Agnes flinch and huddle close to Lucille.

Lucille's heart stumbled. Had he been hurting Agnes physically? Hadn't it been enough that he catalyzed the change in her appearance and tortured her in the process? Hadn't it been enough that he solidified her curse?

Anger, searing hot and intense, flooded Lucille's throat. "I owe you nothing."

Cade didn't move. He stayed there with his hand still upturned, his expectant gaze steady and level with Lucille's.

She braced herself. The tension in her body made her nerves constrict like coiled up snakes. She remained in her spot as well, in her protective stance. His cold and mirthless eyes struck her with fear, but she held his gaze.

Agnes was tapping at her back like she was trying to communicate something, but she was locked in this silent battle, unable to disengage in fear of defeat.

The air was charged with a heavy kind of tension now, tinged with a hint of anticipation that tightened Lucille's windpipe. It was as though the chapel itself had taken a deep breath to prepare for something huge.

"Don't make this harder for all of us," Cade said. "You know what you should do."

Was he trying to do this on purpose? Lucille wondered. She truly had no clue what he was on about. Was this a distraction tactic? Because it didn't even feel like he was talking to her.

"Come on now, darling," Cade coaxed, and that was when Lucille realized that he really wasn't talking to her.

She held her arms further to give Agnes a better cover, but it was too late. He'd already gotten close enough to see Agnes, even though she was pressed against Lucille's back.

Lucille promised herself that if he'd attack, she'd do anything to stop him, but that was when Agnes surprised them both by straightening up and stepping forward.

"Agnes," Lucille began to say, but the younger girl was no longer listening. "Agnes, don't. . . ."

She faltered as she turned around. Agnes was no longer behind her. She was going around Lucille's extended arm, her milky white eyes fixed on Cade's face, which had just lit up with a smug kind of fascination.

Agnes stepped closer to him, but she didn't take his proffered hand. She just rested her head on his chest, her face visible from below his chin.

"You made the good choice, darling," Cade said sweetly, patting her on the back while shooting Lucille a gloating look. "Old habits die hard, don't they?"

Lucille was numb with surprise. She felt like she'd transcended out of her body and was now watching the scene as a separate spectator.

She expected to feel a crash of betrayal like the one before, when she'd first found out that Agnes had turned on her. But oddly enough, she came up with nothing. She was still thinking this wasn't real, that there was a catch. Only when Agnes glanced at her did she understand why.

Agnes was planning something.

It was clear with the way she wasn't embracing Cade full on, the way she was trying to catch Lucille's gaze. There was a hint of tension in her body, a sign that she was bracing herself for something.

With her heart pounding, Lucille decided to let it play out. She wiped her face free of emotion except for shock, which seemed to fuel Cade's smugness.

"I knew you'd come back to me," he told Agnes in a saccharine manner that grated Lucille's ears. "I knew you didn't really mean it when you said you wanted to stay with her."

Agnes didn't say anything. She tore her gaze from Lucille to look up at Cade, wounding her arms around his middle.

He pressed his lips on her forehead, and just like that, a shadow crossed over his features. For a second his eyes widened before his eyebrows knitted, like the whole thing was drowning him in confusion. The way he started to glance around reminded Lucille of a person who'd just gotten pitched into a scenario without knowing the context.

Did this mean he wasn't fully in control? Did this mean he could be convinced to stand down?

Hope flared in Lucille's heart, fast and inexplicable. However, before it could fully solidify in her chest, Cade's expression shifted.

Once again, he was back to being the arrogant bastard that he was just seconds ago.

And this time, probably even more so.

He smiled at Lucille, then turned his attention back to Agnes. "What do you want me to do with her, darling?"

Agnes didn't speak. Her face contorted into a thoughtful frown. She shifted, pulled away from him a little in a natural gesture, but then Lucille caught a gleam in her right hand.

There was no mistaking that reflected light, the sheen of a sharp blade.

Cade opened his mouth to say something again, and that was when Agnes raised her hand to stab him in the back. The blade—Lucille's golden knife—shone momentarily midair before disappearing into a blur as Agnes moved to drive it towards Cade.

But he swerved and avoided it before it could get plunged deep into his back.

The tip of the blade scraped his jacket and drew a long gash as he moved away, pushing Agnes in the process. She fell to the floor with a thud, while the knife slid out of her grasp and skidded across the room.

Cade staggered back, his wild eyes flicking from Agnes to Lucille, who rushed towards her friend.

He swiped a hand across his back and examined the blood that got smeared on his fingers. His entire demeanor darkened even more.

Lucille wasn't sure if it was just the sunset playing tricks on her vision, but she could almost swear that his eyes flashed black for a split second.

"Oh, so this is how you choose to play," Cade murmured as Lucille pulled Agnes to her feet. "I gave you a chance, Agnes."

"Cade, just let us go," Agnes sobbed. "You're not you. Please let us—"

"Be quiet!" he snarled. Dust rained from the ceiling. The floor vibrated. "You're a traitor through and through, Agnes, whether it's against your so called sister and me."

Agnes shook her head. "Cade, I'm doing it for you."

"Oh, is that so?" Cade smiled. "I guess you won't mind if I return the favor then."

With that, he lunged towards the women, his eyes wild with murderous hunger.