The funny thing was that the reason Lucifer held me in such high esteem was because I was the last direct link to the children he’d had with Evangeline so many centuries before. Evangeline didn’t share his nostalgic feelings. She saw me as an obstacle to her goal—the complete and total monopolization of Lucifer’s affection. She didn’t just want to be queen of his kingdom. She wanted to be queen of his heart, and she would do anything to get that.

I had noticed that Zaniel was not seated at the main table, even though he was Lucifer’s son. He was at a table with several other angelic-looking creatures, who were quite possibly his half siblings. I wondered why Lucifer had put his other children at another table when he was so interested in a show of family strength. Was it because those children had not shown themselves to be exceptional? Or was it Evangeline’s influence? If she had her way, she would probably eliminate every child of Lucifer’s bloodline, excepting her own and starting with me.

There were already plenty of people present who would be happy to see me dead. Focalor. Alerian. Oberon. Nameless members of the faerie court who hated me for killing Amarantha and Titania. In fact, when I glanced around at the tables full of guests talking and laughing, I did not see a convivial party. I saw a nest of vipers waiting to strike. I pushed the plate of salad away from me to indicate that it could be cleared.

“See, you don’t want the rabbit food, either,” Beezle said.

“I just don’t have much appetite right now,” I said quietly, hoping Lucifer would not overhear. He was engaged in conversation with Evangeline and Puck, any previous signs of strife forgotten. “For some reason I keep thinking about all the people in this room who want to kill me.”

“Yes, I keep thinking of that as well,” Nathaniel said.

He had been so quiet that I’d nearly forgotten his presence. Now I realized he was on high alert, like Samiel and Jude. Waves of tension radiated off him.

“Gargoyle, can you not see the shapeshifter in this room?” Nathaniel said. “His presence should be easy to discern with all of the guests before you.”

Beezle shook his head. Despite his protestations of “rabbit food,” I noticed he was gnawing on a piece of carrot. “He must have slipped out another door when everyone exited the main hall.”

“So he’s probably not disguised as one of the guests,” I said. “The people who arrived with him would notice him missing, especially during dinner.”

Beezle nodded. “It would be easier to impersonate a servant. You would have an excuse to come and go, then.”

“Or to get close to your target,” Nathaniel said as the main course was carried out on large trays. “I hope you are watching everyone who approaches Madeline closely, gargoyle.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, half-blood,” Beezle said. “I’ve been a home guardian longer than you’ve had wings.”

“Don’t bicker,” I said. “It’s bad enough that we’ve got enemies all around us. I don’t want us to fight among ourselves, too.”

“You must be feeling bad if you don’t want us to bicker,” Beezle said. “You’ve perfected arguing to an art form.”

“Says the gargoyle who taught me everything I know,” I said.

The salad plates were taken away and replaced with a filet of beef stacked on top of root vegetables and artfully drizzled with some kind of sauce. Pink juice oozed from the steak and my gorge rose. There was no way I could stomach eating meat right now, especially since the effects of the shifter’s spell were lingering. Beezle, naturally, dove into his plate like he had not eaten in a hundred years.

Nathaniel was making a show of eating, but I noticed he was picking at his food. When I looked over at Samiel and Jude, seated at the table just below ours, neither of them was eating, either. They weren’t even pretending to communicate with each other. Both of them shifted restlessly in their chairs, glancing up at the head table and then around the room. I knew for sure that Jude would have preferred to shift into wolf form and walk the perimeter. Unfortunately, Lucifer seemed to want to give a more upscale impression.

I found J.B.’s table among the throng of guests. He appeared to fare no better than the rest of us. He was pushing food around his plate, twirling his wineglass and generally doing a bad impression of a person enjoying himself. I’m certain that any courtiers trying to get his attention were getting curt answers.

It was a fact that none of us could really relax in Lucifer’s presence, and the additional bonus of Alerian and Puck wasn’t helping. I know that Beezle and Nathaniel would disagree with me, but I would feel a lot better if Daharan were with us.

Daharan was the eldest, he seemed to be the most powerful, and the other three were respectful of his presence. Plus, out of all the brothers, Daharan liked me best, no matter what lip service Lucifer paid to valuing all of the children of his line. And it would be really, really nice to have someone big and superstrong who liked me the best backing me up.

But where was he?

Beezle polished off the filet on his plate with a smack of his lips. “Are you going to eat that?”

I shook my head. Lucifer glanced over at me, frowning, although he didn’t make another remark about my need to feed the baby. Which meant that he was definitely listening to everything that went on at my side of the table no matter what impression he gave to Evangeline.

I had to get out of this place. Nothing good was going to come of my staying under Lucifer’s roof.