Lucifer’s grin turned smug. “It’s the bone of the first victim.”
“Victim of what?” I asked.
“Death,” Lucifer replied as if it should be obvious.
Grimsby’s eyes sharpened with interest. “You mean Abel.”
“The one and only.”
“The guy whose brother killed him?” Sinclair asked.
“Precisely,” Lucifer said.
“How do we know for sure that’s the right item?” Asher pressed.
Lucifer let out a long-suffering sigh. It was obvious he was more used to adoration than having to explain himself. “Because not only is he the first person to be murdered, he’s the first person to die. Ever. What could be more significant than that?”
Chapter
Eighteen
LUCIFER
Was it wrong of me to relish their reactions when I laid out exactly how essential I was to them? Well, if it was, I didn’t want to be right.
“Go on, take it all in. I know it’s a shock to realize the devil has the details you need to win this.”
Caleb let out a low curse before leveling his stare on me. “If you’ve had this knowledge all this time, why would you drag it out? Why not tell us immediately?”
“Well, I didn’t know what the bone was for, now did I? Daddy dearest tasked me with hiding it. He didn’t tell me why.”
“Well?” Lilith said, hands on her leather-clad hips.
“Well, what?”
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“Oh, for the love of—” Lilith huffed, stopping mid-sentence.
I smirked before inspecting my cuticles as though I was completely unbothered. “You mean the bone. Originally it was in hell, obviously. But after a few centuries, I decided it might befun to move it around every now and again. Keep any would-be thieves on their toes.”
“So where is itnow, Lucifer?” Chaos snarled.
“Keep it in your pants, big guy, I’m getting to that.”
“Get to it faster,” Grim bit out.
“Okay, okay. Sheesh, you’d think as Death you’d be more patient.”
“If I were any less patient, you’d be back in your cage with your lips sewn shut.”
Not giving him the satisfaction of thinking I was fussed over his statement, I adjusted the cuffs of my shirtsleeves one at a time, then took a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure it’s buried beneath Stonehenge. No, wait... That was two moves ago.”
One of the resident Berserkers growled and lunged for me, the other snagging him around the chest and holding him in place with a tersely whispered, “We can’t hurt him, Alek. We need him.”
“It’s either in the volcano in Iceland or under Elizabeth I’s tomb in Westminster Abbey. Oh, wait, wait, wait... No. I think my last move was to swap it out with one of the relics in Notre Dame.”