Hellfire

Chapter Seventeen

I napped the rest of the night away, determined to get plenty of sleep before I snuck back into the Oceanic and watch over Lucius. No one had argued, in fact everyone readily agreed. I'd take Thorn and just sit quietly, keeping out of the way the moment any witch turned up and waking Lucius if any threats failed to disturb him from his day-induced coma.

I stirred at dawn as my alarm blared and fought the sleep away, ignoring that I needed more. Lucius needed me and my sword, sleep wasn't important. By the time I was showered and dressed, armed with a duffle bag as I swept into the kitchen, Arnold had a plate full of food ready for me.

'You're not eating enough, so eat.' He said, and stared at me hard when I was about to brush his concern aside.

I broke. He was right. I wasn't eating enough in comparison to how regularly Lucius was feeding, and I needed the energy if anything happened. So, I sat at the kitchen table and scoffed down the baked beans, toast and sausages, finding myself ravenous quickly.

Mo watched hard, her cheek cupped in her palm with her uncle Bullard beside her, the big man dwarfing her yet still somehow sipping daintily on his coffee. As usual, these three were the only ones up as the rest of the house slept like the dead.

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' Mo asked with sharp inquisitiveness.

'You know what the Lord gets like.' Bullard reminded her absently as he looked over the morning newspaper. 'Susan's right to watch his back like this. He may be strong, but a summer sun makes him vulnerable.'

'Yeah, but he's just going to get pissed off.' Mo pointed out.

'I can deal with an angry Lucius, not a dead one.' I said through my last mouthful.

With a nod in farewell, I tore out of the kitchen. Arnold shadowed me, snatching at a jacket from the coatrack to place carefully into my hands.

I took it, thanking him.

'Remember, call if Lucius fails to wake up and you're in trouble. Doc and I will go straight to you.'

'I know.'

'And don't roam the hotel alone. Just sit by Lucius. You're without your fire and Thorn can only do so much without it.'

I glanced at him, noticing the worry knotting in him and the way his cat-eyes were showing behind those half-moon glasses.

'Arnold.' I squeezed his shoulder. 'I'll be fine. I've guarded Lucius like this before.'

'Doesn't stop a father from worrying.'

It didn't. He worried about me all the time, I knew. I could blow up any day after all.

'I'll call.' I said simply.

After he nodded in agreement, I left, driving like mad through the thickening dawn to the dead hotel rotting unnoticed in the middle of a lively city. I told myself Lucius would be fine for a moment without me. He wasn't stupid and he'd lived near two centuries quite safely without me needing to watch over him, but I still found my chest tight with worry, driving faster than I should and growing irritated with slow drivers or red lights, honking obnoxiously whenever my flaming temper rose.

When I finally arrived, my car screeched to a halt before the looming Oceanic, not caring how badly I parked. Ticket be damned. That could be paid off. Lucius couldn't be brought back to life.

Armed with my duffle bag and Thorn, I strode up to the wrought iron gates twisted with a heavy chain, and found my first hurdle. Lucius' bats. They were clinging to the fencing as they slept, heads tucked under wings and gentle snuffles of alertness as those that stirred watched me with sleepy gazes. I stared at them hard. If I touched them, Lucius would know I was here. He'd refuse me entry. But I had no other means to get passed them.