Does it even matter?
I doubt he could do or say anything to make up for it now. It’s only as Luci pulls back that I realize just how pale and lifeless he looks.
Somehow, this isn’t the same man I met that fateful night in the club, or even earlier today.
Despite myself, I can’t help but worry that whatever the condition is that I witnessed back in the mansion is getting worse.
Wringing out my hair, Luci helps me sit up, still not looking me in the eye even as I continue to watch him. There’s definitely something wrong with him, but what kind of illness could progress this quickly?
Is this the work of that liquid Valentine has been giving him?
Luci reaches for a rag, and I manage to catch a glimpse of the hand he’s been trying to hide from me this entire time.
He’s missing two fingers on his left hand, sliced clean off without a trace they’d ever been there in the first place.
There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that this is Seven’s doing, though I’m surprised that’s all he did.
Maybe Dante stopped him before he could finish Luci off, but then, what would that say about them?
Do they really need Luci, even after he’s betrayed them … or are they in on all of this too?
My eyes slip to the mirror and my mind blanks as I stare, unblinking, at my reflection, and Luci works to erase the signs of what he’s just done to me from the sink and countertop.
I know that seeing myself in my natural hair color shouldn’t be this much of a shock to my system, but it is.
It feels as if every bit of outer armor I’d created to protect myself has been stripped from me. In a way, it’s like seeing the real me for the first time, and how truly vulnerable I feel inside.
Luci suddenly looks up, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
“You really do look remarkably like her,” he mutters to himself under his breath.
My heart skips a beat in my chest, and for a split second I swear I see the old him peering back at me. Pain flickers through his eyes, only to be replaced with emptiness a moment later.
Tearing his eyes from mine, he grabs my arm and pulls me up onto my feet before leading me out of the bathroom. It’s impossible for me not to notice how much gentler he is with me this time, and I have to wonder if he’s starting to break.
Maybe thisisjust a show for Valentine.
I know I’m making excuses for him when I promised myself I wouldn’t, but hope is just about the last thing keeping me sane right now.
Luci grabs a long gauzy chemise off the bed and motions for me to lift up my arms, but I don’t move.
“Don’t make me have to do this the hard way.”
“You should have expected as much,” I say, glaring at him. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make your life as much of a hell as you’ve made mine.”
Luci sighs, looking more annoyed than threatened by me.
“Fine,” he says, yanking the towel off me before I even register the movement, “have it your way.”
I turn to run, but he’s already wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me into the air. Carrying me over to the bed, he tosses me onto it before climbing on top of me to pin me down.
I struggle beneath him but he still manages to wrangle my arms into the chemise before pulling it down over my head and body like I’m some kind of unruly child.
“You’re only making things more difficult for yourself,” Luci says smugly, getting up off the bed as I sit up and glare at him. “I’m kind of enjoying the challenge.”
“Then I guess you and Valentine are even more alike than I’d guessed.”
Luci looks momentarily taken aback by this before quickly neutralizing his expression. Part of me feels guilty for saying such a thing, but then I’m reminded that he could have tried to defend himself and didn’t.