Syn

Madness took over quicker than I thought it would. I was going crazy each moment I spent out here...with her in that fucking place and not in my arms. I tried to convince myself that her knowing it wasn't truly me would help, but the weight of that reveal began to sink like a dagger into my chest. I fought my family for the right to be able to tell her, but I couldn't help but wonder if I put her in more danger.

I questioned if I told her because I wanted her to be safe.

Or if I couldn't live with the image of her touching him thinking it was me.

"What are you thinking about?" Drake asked me, his eyes glued to a book three times bigger than his head.

I shook my head. "Nothing."

He closed the book, coughing as a cloud of dust flew to his face. He waved a hand in front of him and picked up his mug before sitting back and staring at me. "If you won't talk for yourself, do it for me. Your brooding is making my ass itch."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. If there was one thing this guy could do, it was make my already horrible mood plummet to the lowest depths of hell. We didn't need to talk. We didn't need to be friends.

Every time he talked to me instead of ignoring me...

Checked in instead of dismissing my existence...

Reminded me to feed instead of letting me rot—

It made me feel horrible. I read over the shit Mario sent me over and over again: I slaughtered his entire family- the only family he had. I made him an orphan...a widow...I stripped his entire future away with one dreadful night.

A mother and father, a brother, and a fiancé- a pregnant fiancé at that. I killed them all. And what was worse was that I had no memory of it. I spent the better half of my life trying to forget about most of what happened and for the most part, I did.

It was a bloody blur.

Yet as bad as I felt for his loss, the guilt wasn't something that I could force myself to conjure up. I didn't force them to be there that night. I didn't accept any invitation on their behalf. They came to that palace of their own volition and I acted out as a caged child who couldn't take the torture anymore.

Why would they come to witness something so cruel...

Anytime I found myself feeling bad about that, I reminded myself that they chose their fate. They allowed themselves to come to an event where a child would be beaten raw while they ate dinner.

That was who they were.

There was only one innocent life that I'd grant Drake an apology for if he ever asked for one. And that was for his child whom he never got the opportunity to meet. I knew the pain of that and if I had the chance, I'd kill the Seers one million times over for taking her from me.

Fuck, for all I knew what they did was some karmic retribution for the kid I took from him— all the lives I took in that palace, and after.

I'd make that trade though. My daughter's life for all of theirs back. If the heavens and hell could collide and grant that exchange, I'd go back and suffer as long as I needed. There wasn't a number of scars or wounds I wouldn't allow to be inflicted on me if it meant having her back.

I'd take the pain of the entire universe and suffocate in it for the rest of eternity for her life back.

I used to shame God for allowing his son to do that for humans so many years ago, but if his love was as deep as mine was for my children...I could understand it.

He was still a dick though.

And that was as close of a compliment as he'd ever get from me.

Fuck that guy.

"It doesn't look like nothing," he said, opening the book again. "But suit yourself."

I let out a deep sigh. "Just thinking about the choices I've made...and if they were the right ones."

"Hm." His eyes scanned the book. "What choices exactly? You've done a lot of horrible shit. The great, evil Syn SinClaire, I wonder which of his sins terrorizes him..." He smiled. "I'm ever so curious."

"Choices," I repeated. "Not sins."

He scoffed. "You're the son of Lucifer," he said. "Your breathing is a sin. Every time you blink, I'm sure a farmer somewhere is dying a violent death and watching his life's work spontaneously burst into flames."

I blinked.

"Poor, poor farmers," he whispered. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

I sighed. "The world burns. It's not always my fault."

"Whatever that means."

"If you think I'm so evil, why are you here? Why are you letting us stay here— helping us?"

He shrugged a shoulder and flipped through a page in the book. "I've wasted a good chunk of what's left of my soul trying to kill you. I'm just earning a little bit of redemption before I truly do it, you know? Besides, I like Queen. She's a beautiful woman, and it'd be a waste to let her just be...obliterated."

"Oh, I get it." I nodded slowly. "You help us, take me out, and try to make my girl one of your trophies..."

Paris snickered from the other side of the living room and Drake finally peered up from the book to shoot him a deadly glare. "What's funny, henchman?"

Paris stood up from the couch and walked in our direction. "The god awful portraits, dusty statues, and millions of these buried treasures—" he held up the book in his hand, "you said yourself you're a collector. Perhaps it applies to women too."

Definitely.

Drake scoffed. "You're saying I collect women?"

"You collect pretty things- valuable things." Paris set the book down in front of me. "Things most people would die to have, just to fill all this space. You're a hoarder in the best sense of the word, except, you also collect pretty women."

"And why on Earth would I do that?" Drake mused.

"Because you're lonely," he answered. "And you feel less alone when your house is full of random shit. That's part of the reason you're so eager to have us here except..."

"You can't collect us," I finished for us, crossing my arms.

Drake rubbed the stubble on his jaw before replying, "Clearly, you said I collect pretty things. I've never met anyone safer from me than the two of you."

"Hmm, I don't know." Cleo walked past the double doors into the room, a large book in her arms and three floating behind her, all open. "I think they're both pretty. If I had a museum full of hot men on display, they'd make it."

"You," he pointed at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I could see you being one of these pretty things this psychologist over here is saying I 'collect'. What would you say to belonging to me— I'd give whatever you desire..."

Cleo winced. "As tempting as the offer is, I already possess men in my life willing to give that to me," she said. "But we wouldn't mind collecting you if you wanted to join..."

"And become the 'awesome foursome'?"

"Mhm."

"I think I'd rather kill myself," he retorted flatly, and she laughed before immersing herself back into the books.

It's what we'd been doing all day. All the answers were in these pages...we just needed to find it.

"What'd you find?" I looked down at the book Paris placed in front of me moments ago.

"Well firstly, nature gives all creatures residing on Earth a resting period. Humans have sleep, vampires have daylight, and werewolves have the moon. There has to be a balance for Earth as it is the only place directly between Heaven and Hell."

"Right." I nodded.

"Generally, creatures don't suffer these weaknesses anywhere else...but Earth, has these effects on all of them," he said. "The same applies to the shifters. And this particular shifter we're dealing with..."

"Happens to be on Earth," Drake filled in, sitting up to listen intently.

"Yes," Paris replied. "We already know that they need to sleep- just like humans, he just hasn't yet. But there is something else."

"What?" I asked.

"We've been looking too deeply into everything," he said. "At the root of the creature, it has shape-changing capabilities...just like werewolves. In fact," he pointed at the picture in the aged text. "...they're cousins to werewolves. They're almost identical except for a couple of...minor things. Anyway, like werewolves, they change on the full moon. But for them, it's when they're weakest.

"Werewolves have their own DNA that the moon just amplifies. Shifters, however, are ever-changing on the full moon, their DNA is in constant change and it takes an unimaginable amount of energy...rendering them practically powerless on the full moon."

"But he wouldn't change back anytime soon," I said.

"Right." Paris smiled. "That's what we need to count on."

"I don't understand."

"The moon demands change," he said. "He's going to be trying not to change. It's one thing to be weak when shifting, but it's another to be weak from trying to defy nature. The next full moon for them is tomorrow night. He will be trying not to change— if there was any time for us to go in there and have the advantage, it'd be then."

I was stunned. A weight began lifting its way off of my shoulder as I stared at the pages. It wasn't the most foolproof plan, but it was solid. It was finally something concrete that we could begin to form a plan around.

"Why the fuck didn't you say something sooner?" I snapped at him. There were at least twenty seconds he had to speak up instead of letting Cleo and Drake ramble on with each other.

"A 'thank you' or a 'you're a genius' would suffice," he replied. "Me being a few seconds late to deliver the news is not going to kill us. At least we have something now."

I sighed, setting aside my irritation. He was right for the most part. In the moments he spent not saying anything, a second probably didn't even pass for Queen in there. If there was one thing "Aiden" unintentionally gave us, it was the gift of time. It was something meant to hurt me, but it was going to be his ruin.

"Now it's just this fucking barrier we need to figure out how to get rid of," I rubbed my neck.

Cleo cleared her throat. "I think I kind of figured that part out." She started speaking, showing us the tattered grimoire Drake had stored away. "The only thing is that I'm not powerful enough to perform the spell."

"I'll do it," a voice sounded at the door.

We all turned our attention to my father standing at the entrance of the living room, a brown bag filled with takeout in his hand. My mother trailed behind him, her expression unreadable as he walked deeper into the space with a sigh.

"You're nowhere near powerful enough," I reminded him.

My father let out a laugh at my statement and shook his head. "I'm not completely powerless."

"Didn't say you were," I replied. "But this isn't something I'm necessarily willing to risk working or not."

"I can handle it," he assured me. Hm. "But have you guys figured out what to do when you get in?" He set the food on the table. "It's one thing to remove the barrier...but that is not the hardest part. You still need to deal with the feeder."

I tensed at his question, a truth I had only confessed to Paris teasing my mind. The plan for that had been set in motion the moment I sent Lilith in there. Because the truth was, despite the promise of freedom I had given her; I didn't intend on her coming out alive.

I hesitated, contemplating on telling them the truth. Damned if I did, damned if I didn't. I warred with the idea for a few moments before clearing my throat and speaking up. "Queen is going to kill Lilith."

My father paused. "What are you talking about?"

"There was no other way." I sighed. "I thought about any other possible way, trust me. But this is the only way."

"What did you do?" My mother asked me, worry creating a frown on her forehead.

I rolled my eyes and sat down on the seat comfortably. "I didn't do anything. All I've done is let nature and instinct run its course," I said. "Lilith is too selfish to not bargain with Queen for her powers back, and Queen knows better than to ever trust her. Lilith will push, as she often does— she will most likely betray her if history is any indication...and Queen will kill her."

Simple.

"You knew that was your plan from the moment we brought Lilith here, didn't you?"

"Of course." Obviously. "You couldn't possibly believe I trusted her to do the right thing, did you?"

"Wow, you're an evil genius," Cleo whispered.

I shook my head. All I did was put temptation on the table. Any true mother would save their children at all costs, but Lilith didn't have that instinct. Everything she did was for herself and Queen wasn't the girl she was when Lilith fucked with her head the first time. She'd see through her lies.

"But I don't get it," my mother spoke. "What would she get from killing her mother..."

"Queen is part succubi," I replied. "That part of her is dormant, but once she kills someone she loves, it'll activate it."

Lucifer scoffed. "You know that's not all it'll do."

I sighed and my mother frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Here we go.

"Killing her would also awaken the dark magic she took from her all those years ago. Lilith stole a good chunk of my power centuries ago and fused it with her own. Queen is already at risk from taking that- even as it's in its dormant state. If she kills Lilith and activates it, that dark energy will bond to her," he revealed, making me roll my eyes. That part of it was a part that I didn't intend to reveal just yet. But as it was out in the open...

I nodded. "That is true."

"It's too much power." Lucifer shook his head. "She won't be able to handle it. It will drive her insane."

"No. It won't," I said. "It may be an adjustment, but Queen is more than capable."

"But you do have to admit that if she does that...she will be a different person," he said. "She won't be the same woman you fell in love with. Take it from me."

I knew he was applying his own experience with Lilith to this, but it was a non-factor. "Queen isn't Lilith, and I am not you. My love for Queen isn't conditional. She doesn't need to be innocent nor does she have to be the same person as she was yesterday. I will still be in love with her."

Madly.

"It's not that," he pressed back. "That dark power...it makes you mad. It makes you so unlike yourself. It disorients you to the point where you can hardly recognize yourself. One day she'll wake up in a pile of blood, hundreds of bodies around her and she'll be completely unaware of how and what happened. And one day— you won't even be aware of it when it happens, you'll wake up and not know who she is."

"Then she can go mad," I said simply. "If she doesn't recognize herself, I will tell her who she is. If she wakes up in a bloody field with no idea how she got there, I will remind her. If she asks what happened, I will lie and carry that pain for her. And I swear on hell and on everything that means anything in this world, that if I wake up one day and don't know who she is— every instinct remaining in my body will be drawn to her until I remember."

Lucifer sighed, taking the food out of the bag with a small shake of his head. "I just know how it was when Lilith took my power. Everything about her changed."

"That was centuries ago," I reminded him. "You loved her until a few decades ago." My mother tensed at my words, but it was the truth.

"And that was a choice I had to actively make because I believed she'd go back to the woman she was," he said. "And as you can see, she only became worse."

"Well, that's the difference between us," I said. "I won't be waiting for her to revert to some old version of herself. People change every day— love is being able to accept and embrace those changes. If you couldn't do that, then maybe you truly didn't love Lilith."

He froze a bit and I studied him, waiting to see his next move. If he said I was wrong, he'd be professing love for another woman in front of my mother. If he didn't deny it, then he'd have to admit that I was right. He wasn't brave enough to do either, so it wasn't a shock to me when he shut his mouth and returned to setting up the table for dinner.

"Umm, guys..." Cleo paused, a crease forming between her brows. "Something is wrong. I something outside the barrier." Cleo spelled the area around it. If we couldn't figure out how to get inside, we at least wanted to have full control of the outside.

"Maybe it's a deer," Drake said, boredom riddling his face.

"No, it's not an animal."

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Author's Note
Syn...

I will never find love smh.