Beloved Evil

TWENTY

Lucifer hadn't moved a muscle since she had stopped talking. He was looking at a spot beside her head, his eyes empty. At this point, Tara wasn't even sure he was breathing.

She had told him everything. She didn't see a reason not to, not anymore. She'd told him everything Bartholomew had said to her. How his reason for being there was different than hers, how he had been down there for ten years. She told him about the uniform she'd gotten from Finley, how she had gone to look for him but had found his cellar empty. She had told him that he had to know something, that she was sure of it.

She wasn't worried that he was angry, which surprised her a bit. But she had chosen to trust him, so here she was, trusting him that he wouldn't grow horns out of his head and strangle her with a black-veined hand. It helped that he didn't look angry. He just looked thoughtful, like he was replaying her words over and over again inside his head.

The room shrunk the longer they sat there, face to face, both of their hands resting upon the surface of the table. If she moved her foot a little to the left, she was sure it would collide with his.

He looked away from the spot beside her head, clearing his throat as he re-seated himself, almost as if he had read her mind.

"I know who he is... Bartholomew."

Tara instantly leaned forward, ignoring the pulsing temperature in the air.

"Tell me."

Lucifer ran a hand across his neck, his long fingers running through the curls at the end of his hair. Tara wanted to roll her eyes at herself for noticing. She didn't have time for her silly feelings right now.

"I've known him for centuries. I was the one who put him in the cellars."

Tara's mouth fell open. She leaned back in her chair again, waiting for him to continue his story.

"You see..."

Lucifer sighed.

"Bartholomew was an angle. Is an angle, is probably the correct word to use. If he is still alive, that is. He was a good friend of my father."

"I didn't know angles and demons could be friends."

The corners of his mouth rose slightly but fell just as quickly.

"The line between good and evil has not always been this bold. Before my father ruled, it was very normal to have relations with people from other realms. Bartholomew and my father both liked Earth. They used quite a lot of time there. That's where they met."

Tara's mouth still hadn't closed. The king of Hell and an angel, walking around Earth befriending each other? It sounded ridiculous.

"What were they doing on Earth?"

Lucifer shrugged.

"Travelled, talked, sang, drank. Earth was much simpler back then. Humans believed in angels and demons, lived for the myths and fantasies. It was much more magical than it is now."

"I thought your father hated humans."

Lucifer became stern, his eyes locking with hers as the air around him moved. Not a lot, just a pinch, a light shove of the atoms.

"Who told you that?"

Tara gulped, her chest reddening.

"Aridam."

Lucifer hummed in response, his tense shoulders loosening up a bit. He moved his fingers across the table, drawing some invisible picture that only he could see.

"This was many decades before his rule. He was young, different. I suppose your people would have called him a teenager."

His fingers stopped their dance and Tara looked out the window, her skin slowly cooling down.