“Well then,” I sighed. “If you brought me here because one of the souls you collected wasn’t up to par, you can take it up with HR. Otherwise my job here is done.”
“Is it?”
A ring of fire encompassed my wrist. It felt like a nest of fire ants had been unleashed, and I knew exactly what they were circling. I rubbed the lonely red ring, but it didn't ease the burn.
That boxed-in feeling amped up with the irritation fueling it. I was well fucking aware of the soul I still owed him.
You’ll get it when I feel like giving it, I wanted to say. But I didn’t. Instead. I inspected the surrounding space to avoid his attention all together.
Wisps of shadow dispelled as I walked through it followed by a glow of waking light I couldn’t find the source of. Dusty bits of rubble left film over my fingers as I touched every surface, committing the pieces to memory untilthe layout of a fractured room began to take place.
Ornate tables turned to stone lined the crack-riddled walls, and I could make out the first step of what looked to be a short set of stairs. Like we were situated on a dais. My eyes found him again, waiting for an answer while I scrutinized his position. Though I couldn’t see through the dark, I was almost sure he was seated.
“Have you been looking for him?”
His words broke the tension like a rock hitting water, and the resulting ripple was an instant rage I couldn’t control.
“Don’t youdarebring him up. Christ in a corset I am so tired of you being on my ass about this. I’ve still got over a year to cash in. You’ll get your damn soul, Lucifer.”
What I was more tired of was being reminded over and over how big of a failure I was. How much I was disappointing him because I didn’t slit my killer’s throat like a blood-thirsty hell-hound five seconds after making my deal.
I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t good enough.
After a moment of consideration, he asked, “Are you finished?”
“Do you want more choir boy? Because I’ve got it.”
“I’ve grown disappointed.” Lucifer spoke as if he were reading from the dictionary, and that feeling of insignificance I felt tripled. “I bore you from fury and vengeance. What I’ve received in return is petulance. Timidity. Demons do not live in limbo, dearest Dany. I gave you thirty-three years to claim what belongs to you and here we are with only one year left and little to show for it.”
Is that what I am to him? Some sort of investment that isn’t seeing any returns?
Fuck. Did I care if that was what he thought? And if so, why? I shouldn’t. I knew that. But God he was getting under my skin in ways I didn't know how to decipher.
I let out a frustrated growl, and I didn’t care if it made me sound petulant. “Only children find joy in instant gratification, Luci.” I spat his name, letting every ounce of vitriol pierce the air like flying daggers as I stalked forward. I was used to being a disappointment. For some reason, though, I didn't think I’d been one for Lucifer. The idea that I was stung. My toes hit the base of his stone chair and, without fear, I placed my hands on the arm, leaned in until wewere eye-to-eye and growled, “and his death comes when I will it.”
White flame licked the one emerald iris, setting the jewel tones blazing in brilliance. “There she is.” His silken voice was low and dangerous with a hint of…
Pride?
For the second time in my existence, my soul left my body in his presence. I couldn’t speak around the lumps of cotton drying my mouth. Maybe pride had been a trick of my mind? The fire just a reflection of light?
Sodom and Gomorrah I hoped not. His one praise was worth living a lifetime as a disappointment.
Lucifer stood, smoothing invisible wrinkles from his black satin button up and straightening the cuffs where they sat rolled above his forearm. The satin’s color complimented the deepest green in his eye. Soft lips I’d die all over again to kiss, and a jaw line I could practically already feel in my palms.
Sin was so goddamn beautiful.
He offered one pale hand and asked, “Would you care for a dance?”
“I–I’m sorry,” I stammered, too lost in his beauty to fully comprehend what he was asking. “A what?”
He smiled softly. “A dance, Dany.”
A dance with the literal Devil?
The long forgotten chords of the cello swelled through the empty space as if it were a melody lost in time. Lost, but never gone.
Lucifer brushed the tips of my fingers, watching me with endless patience until I conceded and slipped my hand in his. The moment our palms touched, an ancient whisper stirred, flowing down my body in light wisps until they swirled at my feet and drifted away.
