Devil’s Mate (Lovers of the Damned #4)
Chapter 1
LUCIFER
It was past time to leave this miserable city. Lucifer would never be welcome in Shearwater Landing, the home his brothers had claimed, and good riddance. Luc didn’t need to be welcomed. He’d find somewhere better.
As soon as this last detour was out of the way.
Luc stood outside an eclectic little coffee shop in the Banks, invisible and lurking in peace. It was far from his first time here.
He’d initially discovered the coffee shop while following Ash’s little obsession, Harper. When that jig had been up, there’d been no reason to return, and yet the café had nagged at Luc’s consciousness.
Seaside Coffee.
It wasn’t by the sea, though the smell of coffee was unmistakable. Not that human beverages held much appeal. Even the food on offer was nothing special, and the charm of the mismatched tables and chairs wasn’t to Luc’s taste.
No individual element of Seaside Coffee stood out, so why was the place impossible to overlook?
For some damn reason, Luc had been here yesterday as well.
His fingers tightened around the ceramic mug he’d inexplicably purchased and then carried around with him for the last twenty-four hours.
Sunlight caught on the earth-red glaze.
The coffee shop sold an array of similar items. This mug’s asymmetrical glazing pattern and unglazed base had caught his attention. That, and it had been the sole red item on the shelf.
Luc brushed a thumb over the stamp on the bottom. Colt Ceramics.
There was no handle. Instead, two shallow, stylistic grooves circled the middle. Luc smiled, soft tingles winding their way up his arm. He’d never been so pleased by an object, especially one devoid of magic.
He should discard his invisibility illusion and buy the rest of the items in the shop, but he had nowhere to put them unless he brought his haul back to the Realm of the Damned. The idea left a sour taste in Luc’s mouth. He needed a place to live in this realm.
But why bother? No one wanted him here. Was he seriously considering setting up in this city—his brothers’ boring city—for the sole purpose of collecting pleasing mugs? What the hell was wrong with him?
Luc’s brothers wanted nothing to do with him. They’d made that clear. Onyx might have been tempted to give him a chance, but the others had probably changed his mind. Luc hadn’t heard from him since leaving his phone number.
If Onyx didn’t want to call, then Luc wouldn’t force himself on him. It was the correct—insufferable and selfless—thing to do, and Luc reserved the right to be bitter about it.
Unlike with Onyx, Luc had been warned to stay out of Ash and Dante’s lives, which meant avoiding Seaside Coffee, a place their little mates frequented.
It wasn’t fair. He wanted to be here even if he didn’t know why.
Luc’s demon fire sparked, and he clenched his teeth, the urge to crush the pretty mug overwhelming him.
He’d ruined everything, so why not ruin this? He didn’t deserve anything nice.
Luc drew back his arm and flung the mug away. It sailed across the street and crashed into the sidewalk in front of the café door, shattering into countless pieces.
A human seated at one of the outside tables startled, glancing around in confusion.
Luc’s heart clenched, the sinking regret instantaneous.
Bits of ceramic glittered on the sidewalk, red like blood—broken like everything else in his life—and Luc’s throat thickened.
He glared at the smashed mug. There was no point sweeping up the pieces and mending them with a spell. It wouldn’t be the same.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” a man called over his shoulder as he exited Seaside Coffee, his voice cutting through Luc’s seething thoughts.
His attention shifted.
The man pulled off his apron and balled it up, tucking it under his arm as he scanned the street. His pale gray eyes seemed to linger on Luc, even though there was no way the human could see through his invisibility.
Luc froze, momentarily caught in the man’s magnetic stare. His eyes were electric, bright, and haunting. The hairs on the back of Luc’s neck stood, and a shiver wound through him.
Long, dark lashes fluttered as the man blinked and looked down.
He stopped short at the sight of the smashed mug, a frown cutting his delicate face.
He kneeled and grabbed one of the larger pieces, a crease deepening in his brow.
Muttering something Luc couldn’t make out, he stood and retreated inside.
The man’s departure was like a bereavement, leaving Luc hollow as the urge to follow pulled on his chest.
Before Luc could dwell on the feeling, the man returned with a dustpan and brush, his apron nowhere in sight. Luc’s tense muscles eased. With a few deft strokes, the mug was swept away and the man disappeared again, scowling like the shattered mug was a personal offense.
Luc’s insides twisted. He was no stranger to regret. It clawed at him so frequently, he was permanently ripped apart. Breaking the mug was nothing compared to everything he’d destroyed in his long life. It shouldn’t cut so deep. But it did.
The man strode back out of the café and turned down the street without stopping. Luc crossed the road and followed as if this were the reason he’d been waiting all along.
He pushed his regret over the broken mug away. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t. Not like this did.
As Luc followed, he relaxed, his bitterness fading. Tailing the man soothed him.
Luc’s pulse sped up, his momentary comfort vanishing. Was this man the reason he kept returning to Seaside Coffee?
No. He couldn’t be.
Luc hadn’t noticed him working at the café before. How could he be waiting for someone he hadn’t known existed?
But following the man was even more pleasing than holding the mug. He was captivating even though he wasn’t doing anything interesting. The mug’s appeal paled in comparison. Of course it did, but the two felt connected, which shouldn’t be possible when neither possessed magic.
It made no sense.
Yet Luc’s magic responded as if merely gazing at the man had activated something deep within him. Power hummed, its frequency increasing the longer Luc followed. Luc hated not seeing the man’s face. He needed those sharp eyes on him.
Not that there wasn’t plenty to appreciate about his current view. Luc’s quarry walked with confidence, his jeans flatteringly cupping his ass, but the man’s beauty wasn’t the reason Luc’s fire sparked. He’d seen countless beautiful men over the millennia. This man was something more. Something…
Bitterness eclipsed the sweet tug on Luc’s heart. Something more like what? Luc’s mate? Ha.
Luc’s brothers may have found their fated mates, but him?
The Devil didn’t deserve happiness. He was the villain.
It didn’t matter that he chose to take on that role.
That it had been a necessary front. The only way forward.
He’d worn the title proudly, and after so long, he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t genuinely bad.
The man paused and looked over his shoulder, light brown cheeks flushed with the late-afternoon heat. Luc halted, his breath catching as the man scanned the area, then continued on.
Luc followed in his wake like he was under a spell. He’d never been captivated by a random stranger. Ever. It had been more than a thousand years since his emotions had stirred for anyone at all, other than in anger.
Chest tightening, Luc’s stride quickened.
He might not deserve to find his fated mate after leading the way to destroying the balance of magic and mortality in the universe, but Luc wasn’t leaving Shearwater Landing until he figured out if, against all odds, he’d found his mate anyway.