Synching With the Devil's Son

Chapter 2

Luciens' P.O.V. (Three months earlier)

I stand with my hands behind my back, stoically erect, listening to my father as he throws his wrath in my direction. "This is not something up for debate," he hisses at me as he swivels in my direction, his temper flaring. "You have been running wild for too long and you need to have some rules to help govern your actions. Somewhere along the line you've lost your decency."

I scoff at him and he narrows his eyes at me. "Don't pretend you didn't do the same, Father," I say as calmly as I can.

He sharpens his gaze at me. "I was banished from my family for acting a lot like you're acting right now, then I was left alone to figure it all out," he growls at me, "YOU have everything I never had!" His eyes flash red, and I take a small step backwards. When my father gets pissed, you don't want to be the one he's focused on, and you certainly don't want to be left cleaning up the aftermath. His temper is legendary and, I admit, a little scary.

As I stand in front of him, my ability to defy him drains from me and hopelessness seeps into the void my anger resided in. I concede to his demands, just as he knew I would, and it twists the thorn in my side a little deeper because I don't want to be like him and I don't want to uphold his legacy. It doesn't matter that he didn't choose the life he is living, I didn't choose it either. My anger and loathing simmers violently under my skin when I think about how my life was predestined before I was even born. At some point in time, I will be required to ascend my father's throne and take over ruling the underworld. Since I have no desire to do any such thing, a sense of despondency assails me as I lose my erect posture and give in. "Yes, father," I meekly say, looking down at the ground.

I hear him sigh. "Lucien, I don't want to fight with you." I watch as he leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. "I just feel like you require some guidance, so I've decided to enroll you in high school where..."

"HIGH SCHOOL??" I throw out scathingly. "In case it has slipped your mind, I'm over 400 years old and I'm not a child. I don't need to attend High School," I seethe. I can feel the monster inside me boiling, itching to come out and let my father know exactly what I think of his novel idea. I know as a half angel, I age slowly and look like I'm about 18 years old, but really? High School?

He looks at me, and I can see the muscles flexing in his jaw as he grinds his teeth, trying to keep his temper under control. "What you need is a touch of humility," he hisses at me, "and living amongst teenagers will help you achieve that. Your mother..."

"Don't!" I yell, rudely interrupting him. "Do not tell me what you think she would have said or wanted, just leave mother out of this!"

My father sighs heavily and nods his head, looking exhausted and defeated. "I understand Lucien, but I am still your father, and I'm trying to prevent you from making the same mistakes I did. We will be leaving immediately, so collect the things you want to bring with you and we will purchase anything else you might need to fit in when we arrive," he says, throwing the dart he'd been fiddling with at the wall. Its point sinks into a map of the United States with a defining thud, the sound capturing my impending imprisonment very aptly. I walk over to the wall, removing the dart with a heavy sigh. 'Great. Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Sounds like a real shit hole. I wonder what kind of hell awaits me there,' I think to myself morosely.