Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer Book 1)

by Elizabeth Briggs

  My eyes dropped to the menu again. Six courses? Yes, I was hungry, but could anyone eat that much? And what were half of the things on this menu anyway? Suddenly I just wanted a hamburger and fries. And to be back in Brandy’s house sitting on the couch in my yoga pants, with her by my side while we watched Netflix.

  The server handed Lucas the wine list, and he perused it while I stared at the table, feeling completely out of place and over my head. When I told the server I would only be drinking water, he gave me a look that made me shrink down into my chair. Luckily Lucas ordered a bottle of wine for himself, and the server seemed pleased with his selection and disappeared.

  A second later, another man in a uniform brought out some toasted bread with fancy little tomatoes drizzled in sauce—our first course. I grabbed a piece of bread and nibbled it, ultra-aware of where to put my hands. Anywhere but on the dress. Don’t want to ruin this thing before giving it back to Lucas.

  I glanced up and noticed him watching me again with those inscrutable eyes, looking impossibly handsome in his tuxedo against the backdrop of the fountains. Like something from a dream or a fairy tale.

  “You seem nervous,” he said, in his sexy, lilting voice.

  I let out a sharp laugh. “Is it that obvious? Expensive dresses, Picasso paintings, and fancy meals are really not the norm for me. Not to mention…”

  “Not to mention, what?” he asked.

  I swallowed hard. I’d been about to say that I’d never been the woman on a billionaire’s arm before, but that didn’t seem polite. “I just don’t understand. Why? Why are we doing this?”

  “It will all make sense in time, I promise.” He studied me for a moment longer and then picked up the small box in the middle of the table. “I love this restaurant, and not only for the food and the art, but because of this feature reserved for its most…exclusive guests.”

  “What is it?”

  He opened the box and showed me the list of songs inside, which had buttons next to them. "You pick a song, then push the button beside it and it'll start the fountains to that song. It's spectacular."

  Straight away, my gaze focused on Con Te Partiro. It made me cry every time I heard it, but I pointed at it anyway. “This one,” I whispered.

  Lucas’s gaze dropped to my finger and his jaw tensed, just the smallest shift in his muscles. “Time to Say Goodbye,” he said, with a degree of emotion I didn’t expect in his voice. “A fitting choice.”

  I pressed the button next to the song title and the music started slowly, the illuminated fountains arching and winding together sinuously like lovers about to be parted. A rush of emotion suffused me straight away, like I knew it would, and I lifted my napkin as stealthily as I could to dab at the corner of my eye, careful not to smudge my mascara. I should have chosen a different song, but this one had called to me.

  We sat in silence as the fountains danced in time to the music, while the opera singers’ voices surrounded us. We were so close to the fountains it felt like we were inside them, and the mist made goosebumps on my skin in the cool night air. Lucas watched with a stony expression, but his jaw clenched when the song got to the big climax and the fountains shot high into the sky.

  When the fountains’ dance ended and the water stilled, Lucas returned his attention to me again. It was at that moment our second course, the lobster salad, was brought out to us. I’d already eaten most of the bread with tomatoes—it had been delicious—and I was ready to dig into this too. I just wasn’t sure how I’d eat four more courses after that.

  “Tell me about your life,” Lucas said, as he picked up his fork.

  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with this line of conversation. “There’s not much to tell. I live in Vista, a small city near San Diego. I run a florist shop there.”

  “A florist shop?” He let out an amused chuckle. “How appropriate.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Was it an insult or a compliment? I decided to ignore it and instead took a bite of salad. Flavor exploded across my tongue. Wow.

  He barely touched his food, but instead continued his interrogation of me. “And you said you live with this friend, Brandy?”

  “Yes, after she got divorced she needed some help with her son, and I was struggling to pay the rent on my apartment. It worked out for both of us. But now her mom’s sick too…” My chest ached as I thought of my second family and how they were all counting on me to find Brandy—before it was too late. “I’m just really worried about her.”

  He tilted his head as he studied me. "I can tell you truly care for these people.”

  “They’re all I have. Well, them and my sister, but she lives in San Francisco and I don’t see her very often. She runs a company and she’s pretty busy with that.”

  Our plates were swept away by quick-fingered servers, and another course laid in front of us. This one was some fancy scallops dish with potatoes, and it was also delicious.

  “So you’re not in a relationship then,” Lucas continued.

  I let out a nervous laugh. “What’s with all these questions?”

  He pinned me with an intense gaze. “Answer me.”

  His directness and abrupt focus on my relationship status startled me, and I considered lying to protect myself, but I couldn’t do it. Honesty was important to me and I prided myself on never lying. Not even to someone who probably had no trouble bending the truth…or worse. “No, I’m not in a relationship right now.”

  He leaned forward. “But you’ve been in relationships in the past. How many? Were any of them serious?”

  His tone sounded so possessive it made my spine stiffen. I shook my head, setting down my fork. “That is really none of your business.”

  He sat back, languid and casual again. “I’m simply trying to understand you. Are you the type of woman who has long-term relationships, or are you more into casual flings?”

  I snorted. “More like the type who sits at home and reads books instead of going out on dates.”

  That got a laugh from him, low and husky and sexy as sin. “Lucky for me then that I have such an extensive library. Still, I find it hard to believe you’ve been single all this time. You’re a gorgeous woman, Hannah. Surely some men or women have taken an interest in you in the past. Did none of them strike your fancy?”

  “I’ve dated a few guys before, but it never got serious,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing at his compliment. “It never felt right with any of them, and besides, all my time is spent managing the shop.”

  Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes at my answer. I expected him to continue this line of questioning, but instead he sipped his red wine and asked, "You're the manager? Or the owner?"

  “Both.” I paused, debating how much to reveal. What could it hurt? This would only last seven days and then I’d never see him again. “It was my parents’ shop, but they died five years ago. My sister and I inherited it in their will. Jo is too busy with her own business, so I run the place myself.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” he said.

  My throat grew tight with that familiar sadness and the loss I felt every time I thought of the accident five years ago. Not because I missed my parents, but because I didn’t remember them at all. Not only were they taken from me, but I’d lost all my memories of them too, in an especially cruel twist. Was it any wonder I would fight tooth and nail to hold onto my loved ones now?

  Before he could fire off any more questions about my parents, I asked, “What about you? Why does the King of Las Vegas need to bribe a woman into spending a week with him? I thought you were a billionaire playboy. That’s what the internet says about you, anyway.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.” His expression became distant as he looked out at the water as the fountains splashed a playful rhythm. “I had a great love once. The kind they write books about."

  "What happened?" I asked in a hushed voice.

  He turned his hypnotic eyes back on me. “I los
t her.”

  “I’m sorry,” I found myself saying, echoing his words to me a minute ago. The tone of his voice made me think that his great love had passed away, and my heart squeezed in sympathy. I couldn’t imagine having something like that and then losing it.

  He gazed at me with unblinking intensity. “Perhaps it will be different this time.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, so I took a long sip of water just as our next course was brought out, some tiny pieces of steak with figs and honey. I’d already forgotten what course number we were on. All I knew was that the food kept coming, and it was all amazing.

  I pushed another button in the little box and the fountains started up again, this time dancing to that Celine Dion song from Titanic. Soon another course came, some lamb with kale and asparagus, but I was already so full I could only take a few bites.

  “Tell me about your life,” I finally said, once I gave up on trying to eat anymore. “It’s probably a lot more interesting than mine.”

  A perfect eyebrow arched up. “What would you like to know?”

  “How did you do all this?” I asked, gesturing around us. “This restaurant is obviously very expensive, and we’ve got the place all to ourselves, plus control of the fountains at Bellagio. How?”

  “Easy—I own it all.”

  My brow furrowed. “I thought you owned The Celestial.”

  “That’s what I want most people to believe, but for you, the truth.” He gestured toward The Strip, where I could see the glowing signs of the other casinos through the mist of the fountains. “I own nearly every luxury hotel and casino in Las Vegas. Some through shell companies, so it doesn't seem as though I dominate The Strip quite as much as I do, but for all intents and purposes, Las Vegas is my city."

  I sat back in my chair, stunned. I knew he was a powerful billionaire and that he controlled Las Vegas, but to own all of that—damn. “Is that why they call you the King of Las Vegas?”

  “One of the reasons.” He paused before sipping his wine. “But that’s not what you really want to know, is it? You want to know why they call me the devil.”

  My face grew warm, embarrassed that my thoughts were so obvious, or that he could read me so easily. Of course that was what I wanted to know. I’d heard those whispers—the ones people muttered when they thought I’d turned away and was no longer listening. There were also the rumors about what happened to people who crossed him. “Why do they?”

  His eyes flashed with dark humor for a second before he answered. “Because I am the devil. My true name is Lucifer.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously? That’s your birth name? No wonder you go by Lucas. Your parents must have hated you.”

  “My father certainly does, but that’s beside the point. I am the Lucifer, formerly known as the Lightbringer, also called Satan, the Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies, King of Hell, and a number of other titles that people have bestowed upon me over the years.”

  My laughter faded as I realized he was completely serious. “I’m sorry…what?”

  Our server brought our final course, a fruit tart for dessert, while I stared at Lucas. As soon as we were alone again, Lucas picked up his fork, as though we were having a normal conversation. “I realize it’s difficult to believe, but I only speak the truth to you.”

  While he took a bite, I could only watch him, my stomach twisting. “You’re trying to tell me you’re actually the devil. Fallen angel. Evil incarnate.”

  “You absolutely must try this tart, it’s truly divine. I should know.” He met my eyes again, and this time the look in them made me tremble. “Evil? Probably. Fallen? Definitely.”

  Shit, what had I gotten myself into? My thoughts swirled chaotically, and I poked at my tart with my fork as I tried to gain control over them. I was being held captive by a crazy billionaire who believed he was the devil. I should run away right this instant and never look back. But I couldn’t. He was probably the only man in Vegas who could find Brandy, and I’d sacrifice myself any number of times for the safe return of my friend.

  “Is that why you make deals?” A nervous laugh bubbled out of me. “Are you going to steal my soul? Should I be afraid?”

  “Oh, Hannah. Your soul already belongs to me.” His eyes smoldered and a villainous smile spread across his lips. “And you should be very afraid.”

  5

  Lucifer

  My spoon guided my coffee into a slow swirl in my mug—an exercise in controlled chaos—as I skimmed the newspaper front page. A relic of an older time, but one I refused to give up, even if I managed most of my business online these days. Hell, I still remembered when newspapers were invented. To see new technologies change the world and then become obsolete years later—such was the curse of an immortal.

  Besides, the headlines about Earth’s latest problems were a good distraction from thoughts of Hannah. Just knowing she was in my penthouse brought me a sense of calm that had been missing for years, but I was certain she didn’t feel the same. Ever since I’d told her the truth about who I was she’d become closed off and nervous, and had retreated to the guest room as soon as we’d returned from dinner. She didn’t believe me. Not yet. But she would.

  As I sipped my coffee I gazed out at the midday sun. Normally I spent my nights awake and slept during the day, as fit my role as Lord of Darkness, though I didn’t need much sleep after all this time. However, with Hannah here, I’d adjusted my schedule to accommodate her mortal needs. Besides, I had plans for us today.

  The elevator opened outside the penthouse door with a familiar ping, capturing my attention. Samael walked inside a moment later, his dark brow furrowed as he approached. Like many former angels, he had an ethnically ambiguous look with dark bronze skin and rich brown eyes. Many humans guessed he was Middle Eastern, or perhaps Latino, but the truth was often too much for their fragile mortal brains. Like me, Samael had been born in Heaven, though we’d lived in Hell for much longer. Not that either Heaven or Hell was home anymore.

  “Good morning,” he said, in his usual serious tone. “I have an update for you on the missing woman, along with a complete report on Ms. Hannah Thorn.”

  I nodded and sipped my coffee as he slid a thick beige folder toward me with Hannah’s name on it. “What have you found?”

  “Our surveillance footage of Styx Bar showed Ms. Brandy Higgins sitting with Asmodeus on the night she disappeared.”

  My attention piqued, I stopped in the act of opening the folder. Asmodeus was an incubus who ran most of my strip clubs in the city—and Samael’s son, with the Archdemon Lilith. “Is that so?”

  “They spoke for a short time, and then they left the bar together.”

  “Have you questioned Asmodeus about this?”

  “I tried.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “My son is missing as well.”

  My hand tightened around the folder. Asmodeus was old and powerful, not to mention extremely loyal to me. If he was missing too, that pointed to a much larger problem than a lost human woman. Who could kidnap him? And why would they do such a thing? Was Asmodeus the target, and Hannah’s friend simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? It felt too much like a coincidence, and I’d learned those were rare among immortals.

  I opened my mouth to issue Samael further instructions, but before I could speak, Hannah’s bedroom door opened with a quiet click. She shuffled sleepily into the kitchen and her eyes widened when she saw we were already in there. Her startled gaze flowed over Samael, curiosity obvious in her body language, then landed squarely on my naked chest. Interest flickered in her eyes, but she quickly dragged her gaze away from my body as her cheeks flushed. Her obvious desire for me stirred heat at the base of my cock, but I needed to take this slow, to bring her to me willingly. Still, it seemed she wasn’t above a bit of temptation, judging by the way she’d eyed me. And I did love to tempt.

  I stood quickly and pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to take a seat beside me. “Hannah, this is one of my clos
est advisors, Sam.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She clutched her robe—which looked as ancient as I was—tight at her throat, a hopeful look lighting her eyes. “Are you helping to find my friend?”

  “Yes, I am.” Samael held himself stiffly, though his words were polite. His dark eyes scanned her, no doubt taking in every detail and filing it away in his vast mind.

  “Find Asmodeus and find the girl,” I told him.

  His gaze snapped to me and irritation crossed his face. “Of course I will.”

  He sounded almost offended, and I wasn’t sure if he thought I was questioning his capabilities, or his devotion to his son. In truth, I simply wanted both of them found immediately. “I have no doubt you will.”

  He bowed his head, somewhat mollified, and then left the kitchen. I took a long sip of coffee as I tapped my fingers on the report about Hannah. Once I was alone, I would pore through it and memorize every detail.

  “What was that about?” Hannah asked, still clutching her robe. The thing was pale pink cotton and so thread-bare I could almost see through it—not that I minded that part. However, it was definitely a sign she wasn’t living to the standard she should be, and no doubt required a full wardrobe intervention. Exactly what I had planned for today.

  I reached for another mug and walked toward the coffee machine. “Do you take your coffee with two sugars and no cream?”

  “I do.” She said, and then her still-sleepy brain caught up. She stared at me with a healthy dose of suspicion in her eyes. “How did you know that?”

  I handed her a mug and winked. “Lucky guess.”

  She considered a moment, her distrust clear in her guarded expression. Then she appeared to arrive at a decision. “I’m not buying that, but I’m willing to move on to get information about Brandy. As part of our deal.” Her words were curt. Business-like, almost, and I appreciated her cool efficiency as I longed to make her mouth move in more sensual ways. “Did you learn something new?”