Devil Devil
Couldn’t sleep. Gone to talk to Blaine and the others to get them on the same page. xx-Z
That’s what I woke to. A note, basically cutting me out of the conversation that yesterday he thought it was important for me to be a part of. Then there’s that niggling feeling still present from yesterday, which isn’t helping my ultra-confused state about Zeke’s actions.
Instead of stewing all day, I pick up my cell—that I rarely use—and dial Zeke. After three rings, he answers.
“Morning.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” The question sounds more whiny than accusing and I cringe at that truth.
“You were tired. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“If you were that concerned about getting Blaine the information and having a united front, I think waking me would’ve been fitting.”
“The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. They don’t know you. They don’t trust you.”
I bristle at this. The war doesn’t care who trusts me.
It’s coming, and if any of us want to survive, differences need to be cast aside.
Zeke knows this, and coddling the Nephilim during such a crucial time doesn’t even make sense.
He’s a warrior. A fighter. He doesn’t have time for games or childish behavior, yet now, at the most pressing of times, he’s inviting both.
My question is why?
“Do what you have to, Zeke, but you and I both know that their feelings don’t matter to Hell’s army. They need to suck it up and prepare. Liking me has no relevance.”
“Blaine doesn’t want to discuss his lineage with you around. He’ll share which order his father is from, but not who is father is.”
“So you’ve already had the conversation with his group?”
“No. I’m on my way there now.”
He lied. Last night he told me he wasn’t sure if they were aware. He said he was trying to gauge whether they knew. If he hasn’t gotten there yet, then by his own account of what he knows, they haven’t talked about lineage or even confirmed that they are in fact Nephilim.
That niggling feeling morphs into suspicion and doubt. It brings life to Leeanna’s words and has me rethinking my earlier stance. Perhaps I shouldn’t write her off.
I dress quickly, needing to get out of this loft. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me as the uncertainty mounts. A run is necessary to expel this negative energy, and a storm is vital.
My arms pump hard, propelling me forward down an overgrown path.
I leap over roots and downed tree branches, never once halting my pace.
Sweat beads and runs down my face, but I don’t care.
I like the proof of my efforts. When the last of my stored energy is depleted, I go in search of an open area, where I can summon my needed storm.
I’m in the middle of an open field, arms raised to the sky, preparing to begin my process, when the air around me shifts. Everything stills and the hairs on my neck stand on end. I’m in trouble.
“Victoria.”
That voice.
It crawls over my skin like a million tiny spiders, but it isn’t unpleasant, and that makes me instantly nauseous.
Did my thoughts the other day conjure him?
Because he’s here and there is no doubt he’s come to collect sooner than I expected.
I am not prepared to see him, so I remain with my back to him.
Not the best position to be in, but I have to trust that after everything, he’d give me a fair fight.
“Lucifer,” I grind out, pushing as much indignation into my voice as I can muster without giving myself away. My legs are wobbly, and my entire body is quaking inside.
“Lucifer?” he asks, sounding almost insulted.
I feel him closing in on me until his chest is inches from my back. He doesn’t touch me, yet every fiber of my being tingles, electrified. I can feel his warm breath tickle at the base of my neck. Perfidious goose bumps form all over.
“What? No more Luke?” he whispers into my ear.
My eyes slam shut at the onslaught of sensations his nearness causes. My body tenses and my hands ball into fists as I attempt to keep the emotions at bay.
“What do you want?” I murmur back, keeping my eyes closed, praying for this moment to end.
“He’s not listening, love. He never does,” he says, proving he’s entered my mind.
“Get out of my head,” I grate through clenched teeth.
He spins me around so that we’re face to face, our lips so close that if I leaned in only a fraction, they’d touch.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
My eyes meet his intense gaze.
“I didn’t send those demons after you.”
Such an odd conversation starter. Of all the things left unsaid between us, that’s not where I thought this would begin.
“Why should I believe a word you say?”
“You have to know I’d never let anything happen to you. I saved you from the demons, zombies, and those pathetic excuses for angels,” he seethes. His eyes search mine, looking for something I refuse to give him. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Victoria.”
“Stop saying my name,” I yell, feeling out of control and vulnerable for the first time in two years. “You’re evil. You’re vile,” I say, clutching my head.
“You chose to fall. You did that all on your own,” he says, sounding wounded, but I’m no fool. He’s the king of deceit. I won’t fall for it this time.
“You lied to me,” I sneer. “You tricked me.”
He pulls me closer to him, our chests touching, and the heat that runs through me is so intense I almost buckle under the weight of it. It’s pleasure manifested, and I hate that he can make me feel this way. I hate that after everything, I still want to be in his arms.
It’s his demonic power over me. Nothing more.
“I’m the only one who can make you feel whole,” he says, and I don’t react to the fact he’s still in my head.
“That fallen angel you’ve decided to shack up with can’t make you feel the way I can.
Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing?
” he fumes. “If he were here now, I’d tear him limb from limb.
I wouldn’t end his life slowly. Not after what he’s done. ”
“He didn’t do anything. You’re here because he has something you don’t want him to have.”
He nods. “True. I suppose you know me too well.”
“I don’t know you at all.”
“Let’s not lie to each other. I know you and your body—well, most of it—very well.”
“You’re disgusting.” My teeth grind together and my hands ball into fists at my side.
“No, love. Territorial.”
I bark a deranged laugh. “You don’t own me, Satan. I’m with Zeke now. Deal with it.”
“Where did he run off to?” Luke says, a knowing smirk plastered on his face. “Did he tell you about his little hookup with the Nephilim?”
“What do you know about the Nephilim?” There’s only one girl in the group I’ve met, and it was pretty obvious at our first meeting she didn’t like me on the spot.
I try to rein in the sudden surge of jealousy, because it doesn’t matter.
Luke’s knowledge about what Zeke might be hiding is more important.
“We aren’t skipping the gritty details of your boy’s line of love affairs. It’s too good to not discuss.”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I pushed him away for too long. What he did during that time isn’t my business.”
“Tell yourself that, love. I can practically taste your jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous. It’s me he sleeps beside.”
Luke chuckles. “Then you won’t be at all mad that he’s known from the beginning who she is and what she is. Along with her band of Nephilim.”
My blood boils. “How do you know this?”
“I know a great deal, Victoria. Stick around. I’ll blow your mind with all my knowledge.”
“Leave,” I command, turning my back on him and preparing to summon the storm so I can take out my rage on the demons of New Orleans.
He huffs, “Calm down. He’s not with her. He has some unfinished business with a certain archangel.”
He’s not in my head for once, which is obvious by how badly he’s read me. It’s knowing that he’s been lying to me about the Nephilim, and for much longer than twenty-four hours, that bothers me. And that he lied to me about where he was headed.
“How do you know he’s meeting Leeanna?”
“I had a minion follow him. Apparently, the angel is not very happy with him.”
“Stop following Zeke.” I’m not sure why I’m defending my current Judas, but I don’t like Luke poking around my business, and Zeke and his lies are definitely my business.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“And you are?” I yell, sounding more unhinged by the second.
“I can make you feel better than anyone on Earth, Victoria.”
“You have an unfair advantage, Satan,” I snap back, feeling more out of control every second I’m this close to him. “Given you’re prince of lust and lies, I’d say it’s all smoke and mirrors. Nothing about our time together was real.”
“I’ve never lied to you. It was the truth you couldn’t handle.”
“You mean the truth about you being the devil,” I screech, wanting to run away—anywhere to be far from him.
“It doesn’t change that everything I said to you was fact. I’d have done anything to have you by my side, Victoria. You could’ve ruled with me.”
“Stop,” I say, clutching my ears to drown out his lies. “Just leave me alone.”
“Look at me,” he says, grabbing my hip with one hand and my chin with the other, forcing me to meet his incensed stare.
I glare, hoping that every single ounce of hate I bear for him seeps from my eyes and burrows deep into his blackened soul. Assuming he even has one.
He swallows and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs.
Against every molecule of my being, my insides melt at the simple motion.
Every word he’s spoken makes me quiver with want.
My body screams for me to give in to him, and I hate it.
I tear my eyes away, wanting to punish myself for being so easily manipulated.
“You got what you wanted. I fell, Luke.” His nickname slips too easily from my lips, and his eyes close, something serene passing over his face, making me loathe him even more. He doesn’t get to relish in my weakness. “What else do you want to take from me?”
“I don’t want to take anything, Victoria. I simply want what I once had,” he says, green eyes penetrating my every defense.
“What?” I say, sounding more tired than anything else.
“You.”
I let out a bitter laugh. This dance between us is exhausting and demeaning.
The fact that one profession of possession has a sense of peace falling over me proves that I’ve learned nothing.
I’m a glutton for the devil’s deceptions.
I yearn for them. I might as well throw myself at his feet, offering my body as his concubine. I’ve fallen so far from grace.
“Go,” I whisper, internally begging him to show me kindness this once.
He flinches, taking a step away from me, leaving me feeling colder than I have in a long time. I feel his loss so deeply, I almost beg him to hold me again.
“I’ll go, Victoria. But this isn’t the end. You owe me a debt.” He disappears without another word.
Nothing has changed. I’m pathetic. He still holds my heart in his hands, and that truth alone makes me sick.
I wish he’d end this cruel captivation and crush the worthless organ once and for all.
I’ve been an empty shell for two years. Putting me out of my misery would be a kindness. Another one he owes me.