Gabriel himself was lounging on the front porch when Luciver arrived, as if he had been expecting him. A glass of liquor sat on the table beside him. His posture was relaxed, legs stretched out, one arm slung over the back of his chair, but the glint in his eyes was that of a predator.
"Brother! Whenever you visit me, I get punched in the face. Do I need to protect my face?"
Luciver ascended the steps. "Let's mix things up today, Gabriel…I came here to threaten you."
Gabriel chuckled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Whew! That's usually me doing that. Do I get to then punch you? You're not king anymore, so I guess it wouldn't be treason."
The old bitterness between them was a familiar rhythm, but Luciver wasn't here to dance to Gabriel's tune. "Where is she?"
Gabriel tilted his head, feigning confusion. "Who?"
"The queen."
"Excuse me?" Gabriel's brows furrowed.