Chapter Eight Lucifer
Chapter Eight
Lucifer
I don’t know why I insisted upon helping my new employee retrieve her friend from Azmodeus’s club, but the moment the words left me, my pride wouldn’t allow me to take them back, even if I’d wanted to. She sits beside me now in the back of my Lincoln Town Car, trying hard not to fidget uncomfortably. The window partition separating Dagon, my driver, from where we sit is sealed shut, leaving us painfully alone. As we were in my club the other evening.
The lights from the city’s nightlife flash past the window, illuminating the candlelit undertones in her dishwater-blond hair. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about her. She’s of a medium build, on the short side (good for kindling, as far as Hell’s concerned), reasonably pretty, and yet undeniably plain. With soft, freckled features, an adorably upturned nose, and wide doe eyes that appear hazel at first glimpse, a dull color, really, but when you look closer, the amber encircling the irises takes on the shape of a fucking starburst.
A goddamn starburst, for fuck’s sake.
It’s disgusting, truly. Like she’s some innocent, ethereal faerie, though such things are little more than myth, even to me. I don’t know what exactly it is about this woman that intrigues me, but something about that doe-eyed innocence brings out the predator in me, and it’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to tempt someone for sheer amusement’s sake.
The idea thrills me.
“She’s not always like this, you know. Jax, I mean,” she says, breaking the silence suddenly, as if she’s uncomfortable with how long it’s been stretching.
Astaroth tells me mortals find it distressing. The quiet, that is.
If you ask me, it’s because it leaves them alone in their own mortality. With thoughts I know without a doubt are filled with wicked deeds.
Exactly as I warned my Father they would be.
Glancing toward her, I try to see inside that pretty little head of hers, spread her darkest sins open for me, but for once, I find nothing, exactly as I did during that damn meeting.
I scowl, instantly pissed off.
What kind of witchcraft is this?
I’ve never been unable to see inside someone’s head before, never been barred from exploring their darkest sins, their cruelest fantasies, and the thought that she might not have any irks me.
“I’m not sure why I’d feel the need to explain it to you though, even if she were.” She laughs a little, though there isn’t much humor in it. She’s nervous and chattering, though I haven’t entirely been listening. “It’s not as if you’d judge her for it.”
I huff, my expression unmoving. “Make no mistake, Miss Bellefleur. I’ve already judged humanity long ago and, as I’m sure you remember, I famously found you all wanting.”
“Right.” She nods, falling silent for a moment. “I ... guess what I mean to say is that you ... sort of promote these things, right? Sin, I mean.”
I don’t try to mask the irritation I feel.
She’s no different than the rest.
Though the second I think it, something about that thought doesn’t exactly ring true.
“Do I?” I twist my head toward her, capturing her gaze with my own.
She flushes instantly.
I try once more to see her true nature, a subtle push inside her soul meant to bare her darkest sins, but once again, I come up empty.
Nothing.
I frown, and her eyes widen slightly, confused by whatever flash of violence she sees in me, but I recover easily.
“You all do love a good scapegoat.” I turn back toward the front of the car.
I’m deflecting now, but she doesn’t notice.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
I look toward her, my voice dropping low. “Is it me who tempts you, Miss Bellefleur? Or do you simply need someone to blame?”
For a long beat, she doesn’t say anything.
She simply blinks at me, completely unaware she’s been caught in my game. “Both,” she whispers boldly. “Honestly, I think it’s both.”
Even in the darkness, the close quarters of the cab, I see those long lashes flutter as her eyes flit to my lips momentarily. A spark of desire flashes there, one I can’t ignore willingly, and my cock stiffens even as she turns away.
Maybe not so innocent, after all.
So why can’t I see inside that pretty little head of yours?
“Stop here,” I command Dagon. We’re half a block away from the club but pulling up in the Town Car will no doubt make a scene. “We’ll enter round back.”
Charlotte’s eyes widen like she hadn’t considered the possibility of actually going inside with me, and in that moment, it takes everything in me not to lean over and whisper all the salacious things I’ve been thinking in her ear, things that would certainly send her running, though once I do get inside that pretty little head, she’ll no doubt disappoint me.
They all do eventually.
“You’re coming inside? With me?” she practically squeaks, as if the thought terrifies her.
Though I doubt her fear is for the reason most humans find me terrifying.
The way she worries her lip every time I catch her glimpsing at me says otherwise.
“You didn’t think I’d let you go in alone, did you?” I offer a wolfish grin. “What kind of monster do you make of me?”
I’m not certain what she’s been told about how I treat my employees, but if it’s that I don’t take care of my own, that’d be one of only a thousand disingenuous lies humanity has fabricated about me. I take pride in caring for my people, junior employees included.
And like it or not, this naive, doe-eyed princess is exactly that.
Mine.
Per contract only.
Though I think that could be changed. Easily.
The rules of New York City are whatever I choose them to be.
“I think you’re the kind of monster that tempts innocent women with forbidden fruit,” she replies tartly, hearkening back to Eve.
There’s a spark of challenge in her eyes, and though I know whatever I’m doing here beside this woman can lead to nothing good, that small moment of resistance still thrills me.
“That’s where you’re wrong, darling.” I lean past her under the guise of opening the car door, close enough to allow me to whisper in her ear. “I don’t need to tempt them.” I pull back, the featherlight touch of my lips brushing against her ear. “They come willingly.”