“The baby? You’re having the baby now?” “Yes,” I said. The pain was not intense, but it was definitely there. I could feel the baby moving inside me. I didn’t know if normal human moms could feel that when they were about to give birth, but I certainly could. “Damn,” I said. “Damn, damn, damn, damn.” This was exactly what I had not wanted. I didn’t want to give birth under Lucifer’s roof. I especially didn’t want to give birth while I was “imprisoned” on a murder charge. Lucifer would use my incarceration as an excuse to whisk my son away from me, which was what he had wanted all along. I staggered toward the stone bench in the cell. I needed to sit down for a minute, to breathe, to think. It was all becoming clear. It didn’t matter, really, if Lucifer was the shapeshifter’s master. He had seen the opportunity given by my look-alike’s murder of Evangeline.
