Christina Henry: Black Lament

“No offense, but I can think of half a dozen people I’d rather have back me up,” I said frankly. “You haven’t exactly demonstrated your strength in a crisis situation.”

Nathaniel drew himself up haughtily. “I will have you know that Azazel considered me one of his finest warriors.”

“You got captured by Amarantha’s guardians in her forest. And you fell under the influence of her spell.”

“I hardly think that should be held against me. She cast a spell on the whole party,” Nathaniel said angrily.

“Which did not have any effect on me,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, no one seems to be certain why you were immune, so I would not brag about it.”

“You were also captured by the Grimm.”

“As was Samiel,” he said.

“And every time you and I have fought, I have won,” I continued relentlessly. “When you tried to rape me in Amarantha’s castle. When you tried to kill me in Azazel’s ballroom. It seems more likely that I would end up protecting you from the Big Bad Wolf than the other way around.”

“This is why you have always had contempt for me? Because you are stronger, more competent than I?” Nathaniel asked. “If so, then you should lower your standards. I have never known any creature to match you in strength of will save Lord Lucifer himself. You are so much more his child than Azazel’s.”

That gave me pause for a moment, but I couldn’t contemplate my and Lucifer’s shared traits just now.

“Nathaniel,” I began. “I have had contempt for you, yes. It’s an ugly trait, and I’m not thrilled to admit it. But I have felt that way, and it has nothing to do with your strength or weakness.”

“Then why?”

“Because you valued appearance and status above everything else. Because from the moment we met you treated me like a trophy you’d been awarded without having done anything to earn it. Because I believe that you would not choose to do the right thing unless it was also the most useful to your purpose. I believe you value yourself above anything else.”

Nathaniel’s face had gone bloodless during my litany.

“And these are not the traits of a husband—is that it?” he said through his teeth. “These were not the traits of your precious thrall.”

“Don’t call him that,” I spat. “And Gabriel doesn’t come into this.”

“Yes, he does. His shadow has stood between us from the very first, and now his shade will linger there forevermore. How can I compete with a ghost?” he said bitterly.

I looked at him uncertainly. “The way you’re talking, it’s almost like you wanted me as something other than a prize.”

“You never gave me a chance,” he said. “How could I prove that I wanted to be a better man?”

“Do you want that?”

“Does it matter?”

It kind of did matter, because I was starting to wonder if I had horribly misjudged him. And if I had, I had lost the chance to gain at the very least an ally. The Morningstar knows I needed as many allies as I could get.

And yet… Beezle and J.B. had warned me before that I was too trusting. Nathaniel might legitimately want to be my friend. Or he might see me as the clearest path to fulfilling some agenda of his own. This was a time when a little of Lucifer’s foresight would come in handy.

“Did Lucifer strike a deal with you?” I asked. “Did he promise you something in exchange for acting as my bodyguard?”

“He said he would allow me to live,” Nathaniel said. “Although Lord Lucifer understands that I only acted as instructed by the lord of my court, rebellion is still a serious matter.”

“I’m surprised he gave you as much leniency as he did,” I said.

“As was I,” Nathaniel replied. “I asked for mercy, but I did not expect to receive it.”

“Why didn’t you go to ground like Azazel?” I asked.

“I will not live my life like a hunted animal. Either I would die honorably by the sword before Lucifer’s court or I would benefit from his mercy. I would not run.”

There was a kind of strength in that, a nobility I hadn’t expected from Nathaniel.

“But if you fail in protecting me, Lucifer will kill you,” I said. I was very uncomfortable with the idea that Nathaniel’s life was dependent upon my benevolence.

“I truly believe that Lucifer expects I will die in defense of you,” Nathaniel said.

“You seem awfully calm about it,” I said, searching his face for any sign of fear.

He shrugged, and the gesture seemed so out of character for him that I smiled. The smile faded when he spoke again.

“It is not such a bad thing to die in battle. Perhaps I could regain some of the honor I lost. Perhaps you would then think better of me.”

I felt that the longer he spoke, the more confused I became. It was easier to think of his actions as black-and-white, to think of Nathaniel as the enemy. I didn’t want to credit him with humanity.

We stood in the little foyer, staring at each other. And then I jumped about six feet in the air when someone knocked on the outside door. It was J.B., standing on the other side of the glass with a grim expression on his face.

I opened the door, scowling. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“What’s he doing here?” J.B. asked, jerking his thumb at Nathaniel.

I looked at my raggedy ex-fiancé and sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is,” J.B. said. “Can I have a word?”

“Come on up,” I said. “Nathaniel…”

“I will remain outside,” he said.

He and J.B. slipped past each other in the doorway. I swear I could see their hackles rising as they passed.

I silently led J.B. upstairs and waved him into the apartment, closing the door behind us.

“I’m assuming you’re here because of the body,” I said.

“What body?” he asked sharply.

“Um, never mind,” I said, backpedaling.

“Black…” he said menacingly.

“Oh, fine,” I said, and explained about the Grimm’s attack.

J.B. listened intently until I was finished “Well, I guess I’m a little late in warning you.”

“Warning me about what?” I asked warily.

“The blood price on your head.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Whoever wants to kill me now had just better take a number.”

“Certain factions of my kingdom are demanding your life in exchange for killing the queen.”

It took me a second to remember what J.B. meant by “kingdom.” It was hard for me to recall sometimes that he was now king of Amarantha’s court.

“How can there be factions demanding anything?” I asked. “I thought they all fled when Lucifer punished Amarantha.”

“Now that the stigma of a monstrous ruler has been lifted, the court has returned.”

“So none of them would openly support Amarantha while she was disfigured and lived, but now that she’s dead they’re demanding vengeance?” I said skeptically.

“Don’t ask me to explain how faeries think,” J.B. said. “At any rate, there are some very vocal groups asking me to take action.”

“And one of them sent the Grimm.”

“Very likely.”

“Can’t you keep control over the court?” I said, thinking of what Beezle had told me earlier about the rigid caste system in the fallen courts. “Don’t faeries love order?”

“They also love playing politics. I have not had many opportunities to establish authority and gather allies. The Agency management is pressuring me to clean up the mess from the memory-stealing incident.”

I realized then how tired J.B. looked, and how thin. “You’re getting it from all sides, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be here worrying about threats against my life. I’m small potatoes.”

“Like I would stand by and let some discontented faeries take a swipe at you? You should think better of me.”