I immediately portal to Lucifer’s library. He’s sitting behind his desk, sipping a tumbler of whiskey and leafing through the pages of an old tome.
“Take a seat,” he directs me, which I do immediately.
“My Lord?”
“I’m glad you offered to go to Earth with Mara and her… companions.”
“Of course,” I reply.
“I need you to keep a close eye on the three of them,” he says, and I arch a brow at him. He takes a heavy sip from his tumbler and places it back down on the ancient wood of his desk. “It’s not that I don’t trust Mara. There’s clearly more to her than what meets the eye. I fear my daughter doesn’t trust me—yet. I don’t want to fracture that trust any further, but having you there with her would put me more at ease.”
“I’ll protect her with my life,” I vow to him truthfully.
Lucifer scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s not her safety that is my biggest concern.”
“No?”
“Just promise me that you’ll keep her out of trouble?” he asks, and I swallow. I think I’d rather step in front of a magical sword than promise to tame Mara, but I nod my head regardless.
Orders are orders. And I fear that Lucifer isn’t wrong in Mara having alternative motives for wanting to go to Earth. While I don’t think all of her neurons are firing off normally, she certainly isn’t stupid, quite the opposite, actually.
“I won’t let you down,” I tell Lucifer.
“I know you won’t. Thank you for your service, Toth.” He gives me a slight bow of his head, and I take that as my dismissal. I stand from my chair and portal back to my quarters.
Of course, I can’t have a moment of fucking peace. I take a deep breath before addressing Mara, who is sitting on my bed waiting for me.
I ignore her, acting like her violating my private space—again—doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t truly; I already know the moment that she leaves, I’ll be inhaling my pillow to get a hit of her scent. It’s so incredibly disgusting how much I want her. It’s been centuries since I craved something so heady for myself. I loathe it and her.
“Oh, silent treatment, cute,” she comments with a smirk.
“What do you want?” I demand, my tone laced with irritation.
“Just wondering why you were so adamant on coming to Earth with me and my boyfriends. The timing is… interesting,” she drawls.
I take my jacket off and throw my shirt off into the corner of the room. Her pretty blue eyes lock on my chest, and I shouldn’t like it the way I do. Lucifer just told me how much he trusts me, and here I am, alone with his daughter and wanting to do depraved things to her.
I’m not even sure what it is about her. She is beautiful, and she knows how to push my buttons, unlike anyone else. But I’ve had centuries of self-control demolished by this little demon, and I’m not sure why it’s her that can do this to me.
“My job, since you were made corporeal, is to teach and protect you.”
She scoffs, crossing her legs and pressing her palms against my bed. I almost wish I would have fucked her that first night she snuck into my room. But I think I’d be in worse off shape than I am now if I had truly got to enjoy her.
“I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I don’t need protection,” she states.
It pushes a button I’m not even aware I had. The one where she thinks she doesn’t need me and that I’m useless to her. It’s eerily familiar from my human life. Wanting to prove her otherwise, I’m quick to use the blade stashed against my hip to pin her against the bed in a flash.
The blade barely presses against the perfect flesh of her throat. I wouldn’t actually hurt her, at least not in a way she wouldn’t enjoy.
“Are you sure about that, little demon?”
“You’ve really got to stop flirting with me if you aren’t going to act on it,” she sasses back, smiling in my face, even though I have a blade against her neck.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask her.
“Nothing is wrong with me,” she replies, and it’s the first time I feel like I’ve really hit a nerve with her. “Get the fuck off of me before I make you,” she warns. No more cute smile, and I watch as her eyes turn red. I’ve only ever seen this trait with Lucifer. You don’t have to be a genius to realize red usually represents anger.
“Is that what I have to do to get under your skin, little demon? Talk about how damaged and fucked up you are?” I taunt.
