Mentored in Fire by K.F. Breene

Two

I opened my eyes slowly,and then closed them slowly. My wince didn’t do the pain justice. It vibrated through my entire person, pounding in some places, aching in others, hot in my joints and thudding behind my eyes.

I took a deep breath, and it felt like fire through my esophagus. Oh, right. Unlike the rest of the Underworld, there was no air in the inner kingdom. That was probably for the best—it hurt to breathe anyway.

I gave the eye-opening thing another try, and it took a while to get used to my surroundings, mostly because there was so. Much. Gold. Golden-hued bedding laced with cream and a matching canopy billowing overhead, tied with golden tassels to cream and gold bedposts. A hideous gold and cream pattern lined the walls, which Darius would scoff at, and to one side of me there sat a mirrored desk (gold-trimmed, of course) and a gold-upholstered chair. Not all real gold, of course, but enough that I would be running out of here a lot richer. If I could run, obviously. Or move without setting off an earthquake of agony.

Cahal sat in a cream chair beside me, a book in his lap and his ankle rested on his knee. He stared at me silently. I stared back, just as silently. Usually I was the one who spoke in our relationship. I didn’t much feel like speaking now.

My fingers were all straight, so that was good. I could bend them, too, though it hurt to do so. Bruises adorned my arms, and I didn’t much care to lift the sheet and inspect the rest of me.

Someone had dressed me in what looked like a super-luxe hospital gown.

“How do you feel?” Cahal asked, and his voice had an echoey quality to it. Magic carried words here, since there was no air. Though I did remember him saying he could breathe down here because his godly magic negated the airless spell. Regardless, his words had that strange, tinny quality to it. Just another little stop on the mind-fuckery train.

“Like I got beat up, actually.” I thought about sitting up. Then thought better of it. Then did it anyway to see how far away I was from healing.

Cahal pushed to standing and helped, fluffing my pillows and getting me situated. Usually I wouldn’t accept that kind of help, but usually I didn’t feel like sausage on the other side of the meat grinder, wrapped in too-tight casing.

“How long have I been in this godawful room?” I asked, taking a break from moving and closing my eyes against the onslaught of gold.

“You’ve been out for three days.” He pulled a sack from the floor and extracted a wriggling magical snake. He quirked an eyebrow, silently asking if I wanted to use it.

“I know they heal wounds, but can they really heal broken bones and things?” I asked.

He glanced between me and the snake. “I don’t know. I’ve never used one. I was told to offer this when you came to.”

I had used one before, so I knew it would make me feel less like I’d been hit by a truck that had then backed up and hit me again, but I hadn’t had internal injuries last time. And while I’d seen one of these buggers crawl out from a demon’s insides, I wasn’t sure I wanted one taking a jaunt through my body.

“Maybe not,” I said.

He stowed the snake and straightened up, not moving back to his seat.

“What?” I asked.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he stepped back and resumed his seat. I hurt too bad to be curious.

I looked around the glittering gold room before remembering there wasn’t any human technology in this place. No cameras to watch and hear what was being said. “I’m in the castle, then?”

“Yes. You are in a transitional suite. You will get to choose your living quarters when you are able.”

“So…the first thing he wanted me to see was a gaudy room from yesteryear?”

Cahal’s eyes twinkled. “I assume he wanted to impress you.”

“Ah.” I flexed and unflexed my fingers again. As it was, I couldn’t hold a sword. “Go, go gadget healing!”

“What?” Cahal asked, confusion stealing across his expression.

“Nothing. It’s an old cartoon. So what’s the plan here, do you think? Obviously I need to heal. I assume dear old Dad will let me do that?”

“That’s a certainty, yes. You will not be harmed while you’re here. You can heal in peace.”

“Groovy. And after that?”

“He’ll take up your training.”

“Awesome. After that?”

Cahal’s expression turned grim.

I nodded. I’d figured as much. There was a big question mark as to Father Dearest’s end game. But now that he’d found me, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get sent home with a pat on the back.

As if on cue, the door opened up, and my father strutted into the room in his human form, his shoulders swinging as his slow steps ate up the dark wood floor. A grin pulled at his wide mouth and excitement and mirth sparkled in his brown eyes. It was like he’d sucked all the confidence from everywhere else in the worlds and donned it like a superhero’s leotard.

“Good evening,” he said in a medium-range voice before stopping halfway down the bed, on the side of Cahal. “Reagan Somerset, isn’t it?”

“Yep. You knocked up my mother.”

His grin pulled wider. “And you are the result.”

“Two for two. And you are…” I quirked an eyebrow at him. “A rescuer? A kidnapper? A jailer?”

“Yes.” He laughed, a rich, hearty sound. “Welcome. May I?” He glanced at the edge of the bed.

“Knock yourself out.”

“Fantastic.” He sat, giving off the vibe that he was incredibly comfortable with this situation, which made me uncharacteristically uncomfortable with it. The shoe being on the other foot would take some getting used to. “I’ve brought you a plaything.”

“That sounds gross.” I paused, and then the light clicked on. He meant Cahal. “I assumed you would be training me.”

“And so I shall, but you need someone to practice on.”

“I’m sure you have minions for that. Cahal is more of a drinking buddy. He’s too chatty for anything else.”

Lucifer’s smile was bright and broad. “Is that the case? Hmm. Well, then, he can be your confidant, how is that? Or your tour guide to this new place. When you tire of him, however, you will get rid of him. He is only welcome here until you say he’s not.”

“And I assume I can choose how to get rid of him?”

“That all depends on what he knows when he is no longer needed.”

I curled my lips under while nodding. “Gotcha. Tire of the druid, then slip a pair of cement shoes on his feet and send him down with the fishes.”

A small crease formed on Lucifer’s brow. “I am not sure I quite remember what fish are. I will have to look it up. Or, better yet, you can create them yourself when you require the watery grave.”

I laughed despite myself. “How did I end up in this fucked-up situation?”

“You are my heir, Reagan.” The smile dripped off his face. “You were always going to end up here. This is your birthright. It is where you belong. You’ll see that, in time. For now, what can I get you? Do you need to eat, like your druid? Or just heal? Use that snake. It’ll cut down the healing time considerably.”

My stomach rumbled, but I knew it was just because it was accustomed to getting food, not because it needed it. I’d realized I didn’t need food to live when I was bonding Darius. “I don’t need to eat, no. And for now, I don’t think I will. It’ll probably hurt. But eventually, yes. I enjoy it.”

He stood. “Fantastic. I will make sure food is prepared for you when you require it. I’ll leave you to your…”

“Babysitter,” I supplied.

He laughed again, and I could tell it wasn’t forced. He was a man who liked to find humor in odd things. Another trait I’d gotten from him. This whole situation was probably going to blow my mind before it was through.

He stopped by the door before pointing at his head. “Remember, some of us can hear thoughts. You know how to keep your thoughts to yourself, don’t you?”

“If not, then you must think I am incredibly simple, since I doubt you’ve heard any thoughts since you entered.”

And you can hear them, too? he thought, obviously testing me.

Correct, I responded.

He smiled again and knocked on the doorjamb. “When you need something, broadcast the thought. I will have an attendant outside this door at all times. When you are able, leave this room at will. You are not a prisoner of this castle.”

“Just this world?”

His smile was sly. In answer, he winked before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

“You and he are now playing a game,” Cahal said after giving Lucifer a few moments to adios. “He means to manipulate you into wanting to stay. Forever. You will need to fight for your freedom before the siren call of your heritage changes your life forever.”

“Jesus, man, are you always so dramatic? First you were talking about me owning my heritage, and now you want me to be wary of it?” I rubbed my eyes, but the pain in my fingers made me wince, so I eventually just dropped my hand. “Give me the snake. I need to get better, and then I need to get out of here.”

“You need to train. The only way you’ll ever be free is if you fully realize your power and no one can keep you a prisoner.”

I closed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Fine. That still requires getting better. Get that snake.”