15. The Devils Like to Play #3
“He’s right. This Gauntlet isn’t a place to play it safe. Offense is the way to go, Rez, else you won’t be around to help your family,” Astaroth agrees, squeezing my shoulder as he walks past me and into the trees.
Facing Bez and the essence he’s offering, I feel a pull in my core that is silently encouraging me to take it. My gut hasn’t led me wrong yet, but before I take it, I have to know…
“Before accepting,” I start, “how did you know to prepare your essence before now?” I narrow my eyes.
“I also know things, not just Murmur or Luc.” He points to his head with his empty hand. To the point. Simple. Bez all the way. I reach out and feel the warmth of the bottle and meet Bez’s eyes.
“Thank you.” Before I can do anything else with the bottle, Bez pulls me into his warmth and hugs me.
“May your enemies meet the dull end of your sword, choke slowly on their blood, and feel you chase them down in the thick of night in no moonlight.”
“Bez,” I wheeze against his naked chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a scary motherfucker?”
I feel his chest rumble as his deep laughter bubbles out of him before he pulls away and looks down at me.
“You will do well,” he says, ruffling my hair before disappearing after Astaroth.
Not having any other place for the essence I inquired, I slip it in between my breast and rearrange myself as I walk out of the woods and straight into the last member of L.A.M.B. while he’s bent over.
“There’s really no point in trying to seduce me, Rez. You are really not my type,” Lucifer drones as he stands up… from Reaper?
“Were you just playing with Reaper?” I ask, shocked that I caught him red-handed.
“Of course not. I found the insufferable soul messing with my damn shoes,” Lucifer scolds, but I look down at Reaper, and even he cocks his head at the Devil’s lie and snorts.
“Yeah, I don’t believe that at all.”
“So, you’ll believe a dog over me?” he questions, as I bend down to fix Reaper’s tux, and I laugh.
“You are the Deceiver himself, aren’t you?” I remind him.
“What is that?” he demands, and I freeze at his tone. Reaper repositions himself between Lucy and me, and I slowly look up.
“What is what?” I try to clarify.
“That ring?” He points to Beleth’s ring on my thumb, and I bite my tongue as I attempt not to laugh.
“It’s my promise ring,” I blurt out as seriously as possible.
“Tru— Li— Half lie. What is it really?” He reaches down and grabs my arm, pulling me up to face him, but doesn’t let go.
“It’s what I said it is, just not in the context you are probably thinking, therefore it’s not clear to you,” I tell him, smirking when I know it rings true as he narrows his eyes at me.
“That’s Beleth’s ring,” he states, and I don’t deny it. I just smile as I feel his grip tighten.
“Any other questions, my Lord?” I give him a smug look.
“I find you extremely annoying,” he growls out.
“Lie,” I spit back.
“Have I taught you nothing?”
“Oh, you’ve taught me plenty,” I fire back as I catch heat in his eyes, and I can’t help but wonder…
does the Devil himself see me as more than the annoying brat he once excused me as?
Hmm. I’m bored, so why not test out that theory?
“Why, Lucy, have your feelings changed towards me?” I slightly smile, knowing I’m right to some extent as his thumb absently rubs up and down my arm.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” he says, his eyes darting past my head. “Just like your so-called catastrophe of a Hellhound.”
“Hmm, wow, a complete deflection of not answering my question. What would the Prince of Lies think of that, I wonder?” I mock.
Lucy’s eyes finally meet mine, and an undeniable pull hits me as his gaze follows down my body until he sees his hands caressing my arms. He rips his hands away from me as if he just realized what he’s been doing and he’s committed the ultimate sin.
“JP would kill me,” he relents, sighing under his breath.
I sober at his words. “That’s the first true thing you’ve said tonight. See ya later, Lucy.”
“I hate when you call me that name.”
“You secretly love it, and that’s the truth.” I mockingly curtsy and turn on my heel, only to bump into the green-eyed, dark-skinned man who almost dropped me with his voice the other day.
“Well, hello, darl—”
I slam my hand across his mouth, and his eyes go wide, clearly not used to people touching or keeping him from speaking.
“Nope. You either promise not to use your powers, or I’ll make sure you can’t myself.” I raise my eyebrow as he looks at me and assesses his situation. He looks over my shoulder, and I roll my eyes, knowing what he’s probably seeing. Lucy is likely threatening him, even though I can do it myself.
Whipping my head around, I catch Lucy mimicking breaking a bone, and I give him an angry bug-eyed look before whisper-yelling, “Stop it,” and face the Don Juan fellow again.
“Don’t mind Satan, he’s a pussy cat.” Growls echo behind me. “You gonna behave?” I ask my peer in front of me.
He nods his head vehemently. “Good. Let’s go talk.” I whistle for Reaper and watch as Mr. Don Juan’s eyes widen in fear at my fiery hellhound running to us.
Oh, this will be fun.