Black Lament Read Free

still dictate your own terms.”
    “I can’t believe you’re telling me this,” I said. “You know that I don’t want to be another one of Lucifer’s pawns. Besides, he wants the baby for himself. I can’t trust him.”
    “No, you can’t trust him,” Beezle said. “But if you wait until you have no other option for the child’s safety, then Lucifer will make you pay more dearly than you can imagine.”
    “Did you have to tell me this today?” I said tiredly. “Don’t I have enough to worry about already?”
    “Your problems won’t go away just because you want to put a pillow over your head and pretend they’re not there,” Beezle said.
    “You don’t have to tell me that,” I said grimly. “My problems never seem to go away no matter what I do. They just grow and multiply like gremlins.”
    We both sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating the sad truth of this statement. Every time I attempted to extricate myself from the fallen, I found that I’d gained more enemies and more entanglements than I had before.
    Subtlety is not my best thing. Politics requires a delicate hand. Those qualities are stock-in-trade for the fallen. I’m more of a hack-and-slash-and-then-burn-it-all-to-the-ground kind of girl.
    I pushed to my feet, and Beezle fluttered up to the kitchen counter. I stood there for a moment, feeling lost.
    “Food,” Beezle reminded me.
    “Yes, food,” I said.
    I opened the refrigerator door and looked in. There was absolutely nothing in it—not even a jar of mayonnaise.
    “When was the last time I went shopping?” I wondered.
    “The day that you and Gabriel followed Amarantha’s ghost to the park,” Beezle said.
    “Well, that was… a while ago,” I said, trying to count backward and failing. “I guess I have to go to the store.”
    “And I’ll come with you,” Beezle said.
    “Okay,” I mumbled.
    “What? No protest? No smart remark about my being a home guardian?” Beezle asked.
    “You can come if you want,” I said tiredly. I couldn’t think of any smart remarks. I just wanted to get through this task so that I could eat something and go back to sleep.
    I shuffled down the hall, pulled on my boots and coat, stuffed some cash in my pocket.
    “Are you coming?” I asked, turning to Beezle.
    He hovered in the hallway, watching me with an indefinable expression on his face.
    “You can’t wander around in a fog like this forever,” he said.
    “I know,” I said softly.
    I did know. Sooner or later, the world would come knocking at my door. Sooner or later, some enemy would appear, some new threat would manifest, and I’d have to wake the hell up and deal with it. But not now. Not yet.
    “Let’s go,” I said.
    Beezle landed on my shoulder, and we went out the door without another word.
    * * *
    Beezle took advantage of my total lack of energy and convinced me that we needed a lot of junk food that neither one of us should be eating. I was too tired to argue so I just bought whatever he pointed at, paid for it and trudged home.
    I had my head down, watching my boots pushing through the snow, and wasn’t thinking of anything in particular except more sleep.
    We were almost to the front porch when Beezle tapped me on the shoulder.
    “Maddy,” he said. His voice was urgent.
    I looked up. There was a figure standing in the shadows on the front porch. Someone tall, wearing an overcoat…
    “Gabriel?” I said, my heart thundering in my chest.
    “No,” the person said, and stepped into the light.
    It was Nathaniel.
    “You,” I snarled.
    I dropped the grocery bags in the snow and charged up the steps. Nathaniel put his arms up in the air, stepped backward, but he was too slow and I was too angry.
    I put my shoulder into his stomach, heard his hard exhalation as the breath went out of him. I tackled him down to the porch, kneeling with my legs on either side of his chest, and punched him in the face.
    “You,” I repeated. All I could see was Nathaniel’s