and even a few Nephilim. Camille hovered in the corner of his vision, her blond hair twisted around her face, a sheet wrapped tightly around her naked body. She looked between him and the people in the door, their eyes settling accusingly on her. Their secret was out now.
Clark glanced back at the corner, but Lucifer was gone. The shadows were harmless now.
“What happened?” Liam asked, shoving into the apartment. He quickly drew the same conclusion as everyone else had, his eyes slashing to the Throne angel. “What did you do?”
“Are you serious?” Camille growled. “How dare you!”
“Wait!” Clark said from the floor. Only when everyone turned to look at him did he notice he was naked. He covered himself with a dusty pillow from the couch before he stood up. “Wait. She didn’t do anything. I had a bad dream.”
The expression on his face must have been proof enough because Liam said, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Uh…” Clark couldn’t handle the accuracy of that statement. He didn’t know exactly what he’d seen or felt or heard, but he knew for a fact that it wasn’t a dream. A dream couldn’t be that real. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay,” Liam said hesitantly, his eyes flicking back to Camille quickly before he turned to go. “Meeting in half an hour.”
“Sure thing. Zarachiel, wait!” Clark called when the angel turned to leave. Everyone looked back at him, their eyes roving between him and the angels. “I, uh, need you to look at some…seed.”
Clark cringed at the word choice. The silence in the room stretched out, crossing far into awkward territory. Clark shifted, making the floorboards creak and groan beneath him.
“Sure,” Zarachiel said evenly. He turned to get the front door, effectively ushering everyone else out.
When they were alone in the room, Clark slouched into the ancient couch, sending up dust balls and must into the air. He put his head in his hands.
“What the hell was that?” Camille demanded.
But Clark couldn’t answer. He heard Lucifer’s laugh, and his stomach twisted in fear again. If he was still enough, he could smell the same metallic scent in the air that he’d smelled in Jenna’s room.
“What happened?” Zarachiel asked Camille when it was obvious Clark wasn’t ready to speak yet.
“I don’t know! He woke up and started freaking out. He shoved me and screamed that I was dead.”
Clark felt their eyes on him, knew they were waiting for an explanation, but it was one he couldn’t give. The couch sank down a bit more as Zarachiel took a seat next to him. Camille took the spot on Clark’s other side.
“Clark?” Zarachiel asked cautiously, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m here.”
“What was that? I’ve never seen you look like that before.” Camille’s voice was the most comforting he’d ever heard from her. It nearly shocked him out of his stupor when she put a hand on his other shoulder, massaging the tense muscles. He looked up at her, then over to Zarachiel.
“I saw Sophia.” Deep lines formed between Zarachiel’s brows as Clark spoke. He turned to Camille. “She was lying in bed with me, and I felt her, felt her warmth. She spoke to me in her voice. She even smelled like her.”
“It was just a really bad dream?” Camille said, saying the words like a question.
“No. It was more than that.”
“What makes you say that?” Zarachiel questioned next.
“Because I saw him! He was standing right there.” Clark pointed as he spoke; everyone looked at the empty corner. “I heard his laugh, I know it. He was playing a twisted joke on me, and he wanted to watch.”
“Who, Clark?” Zarachiel asked.
“Lucifer.”
Silence filled the room. No one spoke. Clark looked between the two angels, but they were both extremely still. Sitting between them, the fear from earlier was long gone, and he could recall the incident with ease. He
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley