End of Eden (Se7en Sinners Book 2)

by S. L. Jennings

  That peaks my interest. I sit up on my knees, still maintaining a healthy distance between us. Just hours ago, I had sat beside him, letting him seduce me with lies that fell from his lips to my ears. The feel of his fingers are still burned onto my cheek. But now, with the soft glow of flickering candlelight painting golden shadows across our faces, his presence seems smothering. As if every one of my senses awakens at his command, only to be suffocated by his overwhelming power.

  It’s a trick, I tell myself. A symptom of his proximity.

  Just like that night in the Watcher’s bathroom. Just like last night as I let him coax my vengeful heart into taking pleasure in the pain of others.

  I dash the thoughts from my head. How easy it would be to fall victim to his charm and dark influence. Knowing that, I have to stay vigilant. I have to recognize the difference between who I am, and the little monster inside that’s trying to claw its way to the surface.

  “In any case,” he begins after I fail to comment after a few moments of thick tension. “I realize that you are, in fact, human, and it would be ungentlemanly to not check on you after dinner’s festivities. Forgive me for not seeing you to your room.”

  “I’m fine,” I remark, refusing to give him the truth he so desperately seeks. His lips curl with a touch of devious mirth, as if he can smell the lie on me.

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to make you…” His teeth press into his bottom lip, puncturing it with the slightest bit of pressure. “…uncomfortable in any way. You know that right, don’t you, Eden?”

  I force my eyes from his lips and look past him. “How would I?”

  “Look around you,” he replies with a wave of his hand. “The finest furnishings. The most delectable foods. The lushest fabrics. I want you to drown in luxury, to be completely immersed in all things pleasurable. I know this is quite an upgrade from what you are used to, but believe me when I tell you this—you deserve the best. And as long as you’re with me, you will have the best.”

  “As long as I’m with you.” I purse my lips into a flat line.

  “Yes,” he nods. “I’ve waited for you before you were even born, Eden. When I felt you within your mother’s womb, you cannot imagine the pure joy I felt, knowing that we would be together soon.”

  My face pales, and my mouth goes dry. “You’ve been waiting for me? Since I was a fetus?” My indignant tone makes him flinch but I soldier on, my tongue inflamed with disgust. “What kind of sick pedo shit is that? How does that make you any better than Zachary?”

  Lucifer gracefully sits upright, unfazed by my accusations. “My interest in you was not conceived from lust, Eden. I assure you. What you are is…very special to me. And finding you has been of great importance for centuries.”

  “What I am?” I balk. “What do you mean?”

  “The rarest and most beautiful of all jewels, my love. One that shall be met with the highest honor and admiration for as long as I may reign. That’s why I chose you, Eden. Not Adriel, not Lilith. I chose you.”

  Lucifer rolls onto his side to face me, closing the distance between us even more. His scent is deadly and intoxicating, like violet belladonna blooms. Full lips that I can still taste in my dreams, and dark hair that once felt like spun silk in my fingers. His eyes flicker with radiance as if they are the keepers of tiny galaxies light years beyond both our worlds.

  I wish it were possible to hate him more than I already do. It would make denying my insane attraction to him so much easier.

  This thing between us—this ugly, desperate creature that just won’t die—has haunted me since that night at the Watcher’s mansion. I felt his power surge inside me with every stroke. I felt myself getting stronger, more uninhibited. As if nothing could bind nor tame me.

  That feeling, along with our erotic illusion, shattered the moment Legion’s voice broke through. I was back to being covered in shame and dejection, and for good reason. I hadn’t just danced with the Devil. I rode his cock so hard that hellfire exploded within my womb and dripped molten sin down the bathroom walls.

  And now here I am, thinking about that night and the indescribable way he made me feel. And wondering if it would be even better now that we’re here…together…

  “So…should we fuck now, or shall I let you continue?” An amused grin taunts his mouth and he raises one perfect brow.

  “You fucking bastard,” I spit harshly, realizing what he’d done. “You…you made me think of all that shit!”

  “No. I mean, yes, I gave you a nudge in that direction, but your naughty little mind did the rest.” He gingerly props his chin on a palm. “Please, indulge me with more. Your memory of that night is rather arresting. I must have made quite the impression.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter, ripping the covers up to my chin. I’d flee the bed, but then he’d see how hard my nipples are through the thin silk pajama top, and I really don’t think it’s possible to inflate his ego even more.

  He laughs deep and shamelessly, his chin tipped up, his eyes closed, and his sensual mouth wide. He’s so free with his body and its movements, as if restraint and caution do not exist in his world. Such a contrast from Legion, who existed only in a constant state of control. Except when he was with me…holding me tight under a veil of moonlight, kissing me deep and frantically as if I’d dissipate in his arms, filling me with his rage and chaos until I burned bright as the sun.

  Those were the only times I felt I really saw him, really knew him at all. And still, he was such a stranger to me.

  I heave out a heavy sigh and push away the memories that keep trying to creep their way to the forefront of my mind. Lucifer reads the frustration on my face and carefully reaches out to touch a loose lock of silver hair, raveling it around his fingers. I stay deathly still.

  “He didn’t appreciate you, you know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “He kept you caged like an animal. He paraded you around like a piece of meat. And when it came down to saving your life, or the mission of the Se7en, he chose them. Not you, Eden. He practically pushed you into my arms.”

  “And you had nothing to do with it?” I stonily question. “You didn’t take my sister hostage and threaten to hurt her and others?”

  His fingers pause mid-twirl and he drops his hand. “She is an innocent. I would not have harmed her. And even now, she has no recollection of that night. I just needed to get your attention. I needed you to stop fighting long enough to make you see that your savior is no saint. He’s a hypocrite.”

  His expression sober, Lucifer pushes off the bed. “Get dressed. I’d like to take you to breakfast, then on a tour of my home. I want you to be comfortable here. I want my home to be your home.”

  I resist the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. “Why?”

  He leans forward, pressing his fist into the mattress. Those starlight-speckled eyes regard me with sincerity. “Because I was honest about my intentions with you. You may not love me, and maybe you never will. But my hope is to open your heart to me, even if it’s just a sliver. Just a crack is all I ask for. Only then will you feel the gravity of what I feel for you.”

  Words plummet to the bottom of my stomach as I watch him right himself and stroll to the bedroom door. “I’ll be waiting in the hall. And I don’t wait for anyone. You’ve been here for less than twenty-four hours, and I’m already bending to your will. And you didn’t even have to infiltrate my mind to do it.”

  The very moment the door clicks behind him, I scramble from the bed. I’m panting after barely breathing for the last half hour. I can’t go to breakfast with him. It’s bad enough that he came into my room—uninvited—and creepily watched me sleep. Shit, can he always do that? Where will he pop up next? The bathroom?

  I bite down on the scream of frustration bubbling in my throat. How dare he. He has no right to invade my personal space and take away the tiny kernel of safety I thought I had. I should’ve known that he was incapable of any modicum of decency and decorum. And you know what? He needs to he
ar that. Fuck bowing down and biting my tongue like everyone else around him. Niko said Lucifer doesn’t do well with boredom. Well, lucky for him, he just lit a firecracker.

  I hurriedly wash up and dress in the most modest thing I can find in that ridiculous wardrobe—a black tea-length tulle skirt and a plain white tee that’s meant to be an undershirt. All the shoes provided are nauseatingly gaudy so I settle for a pair of red glittery ballet flats. They’re probably house slippers but I’ll be damned if I trek all over this tomb-like palace in heels.

  I don’t bother with much makeup, and opt to tie my hair into a messy topknot. I’m not here to dazzle him with my womanly charms. He’s lucky I have enough civility to even brush my teeth. But when I step out of the bedroom on shaky legs, you would think I just traipsed off the pages of French Vogue.

  “Wow…I’m speechless.”

  “What?” I frown, looking down at my outfit. Not my best work, but shit…I had to work with what was given to me.

  “Nothing, you’re just…” Lucifer shakes his head. He steps forward, and touches his fingers to a wayward lock of hair. “This color suits you.”

  “I guess I have you to thank for that.”

  “I guess you do,” he replies, a smile playing at his lips. He steps back abruptly and locks his hands behind his back. “Come. I’ve had the chef prepare something special. It’s not often that that I have the pleasure of dining at this hour, especially with such an alluring beauty.”

  I follow his leisurely steps, staying at his side, yet I keep a healthy distance between our bodies. His strides are effortless as if he is coasting on a cloud. The hallway is eerily quiet, as before, but the creepy feeling of being watched is stronger than ever. As if the entire underworld is gaping at us in delight. I cross my arms in front of my chest, hoping it will muffle the rapid beating of my heart.

  “I thought you could do anything you wanted?” I inquire, keeping my gaze forward. I don’t want to catch a glimpse of the paintings. I can feel them; I can even sense flashes of movement in my peripheral vision. But each time I have looked upon those ancient works, they’ve been completely still, frozen in their perpetual poetry.

  “Ah, as the saying goes, there is no rest for the wicked. There is always much to do—souls to claim, pitchforks to sharpen, horns to polish.” He peers at me from the corner of his eye, just in time to catch my grimace. “Kidding. Ruling is much more tedious than you would expect. Lots of red tape.”

  We round a corner, going the opposite direction of the dining room bedecked in blood red stones. I frantically look for any signs of familiarity, but soon realize that we’re traveling to a different wing. Where is he taking me?

  “My living quarters,” Lucifer offers, plucking the question from my mind.

  I look up and frown at him. “Are you reading my thoughts?”

  “I don’t have to. You are entirely too easy to read. Not that I’m complaining. But with gifts like yours, I’d be more cautious with your expressions. It could be troublesome.”

  Annoyed with his assessment, yet somewhat grateful for the tip, I wipe the battling emotion from my face. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I want to help you, of course. And by helping you, I’m helping myself. My goal is to make you see your full potential. Once you tap into your full power, you will be unstoppable. We will be unstoppable.”

  “And then what?”

  He abruptly stops at a set of intricately carved heavy wooden doors and turns to face me, dipping his chin so I can see the flecks of obsidian tainting the whites of his eyes. “Then…we reign.”

  I don’t even have time to gasp before the doors slide open on their own accord, revealing a lavish sitting room. Lucifer extends an arm to usher me inside, and I’m surprised to find that my feet obey, eager to enter the breathtaking space. The floors are polished marble the color of angry storm clouds illuminated with lightning. The slate-streaked walls are paneled with rich dark browns that accentuate the bright crystal chandelier raining streams of sparkling light from the ceiling. All the furnishings are modern and deliberately placed yet oddly inviting. It’s like I’ve just stepped into a designer’s showroom, and every piece was chosen to reflect style and obscene wealth.

  The sitting area borders a smaller room where I spy a round, high table housing a pitcher of orange juice and two glasses. I don’t even realize I’m hungry until I’m flooded with the scents of bacon, eggs and freshly baked pastries. I clutch my growling stomach and lurch toward the source.

  “Come,” Lucifer says, leading me closer to sustenance. “I can show you around later.”

  I follow, inwardly scolding myself for my body’s weakness, and take one of the two seats. The moment my back hits the chair, a stream of servers file through a door several yards away, holding various steaming platters of golden fried deliciousness. I’m practically salivating when a plate overflowing with all my favorite breakfast foods is placed in front of me.

  “Dig in,” Lucifer smiles, picking up his fork and knife. He cuts into a stack of fluffy pancakes doused in butter and syrup. His gaze never strays from my face as he parts his sensual lips and places a heaping forkful on his tongue.

  Damn.

  “Is something wrong?” he asks around a mouthful of pancake.

  I blink from my trance and scramble to pick up my fork. “No, no. Just waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?” he questions, reaching for his glass of OJ.

  “To see if you’d actually eat it.”

  Lucifer sips his juice and gingerly sets the glass down before leaning back into his chair. “There are literally a million ways to hurt you, Eden. And poison is, quite frankly, at the bottom of that list. It’s boring…cowardly. If you haven’t noticed, I’m all about showmanship.”

  A quick blast of heat wafts over me, yet that does nothing to shake the chill seizing my spine. I grasp my fork even tighter to still the trembling of my hand.

  “Now…eat up. Your food is getting cold, and I really, really hate repeating myself.”

  He plucks up his silverware and resumes eating. I only give myself three seconds to gawk before I pick up my jaw from the table and spear a sausage link with a fork. I nibble a spicy, greasy morsel to find that, of course, it’s delicious without a trace of toxicity. Not that I truly thought it was. But it was either lie about my potential death by poison, or admit that I was enraptured by the voodoo that is Lucifer’s mouth. I can’t and won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he has on me.

  “You take all your dates to breakfast in your room?” I ask after growing tired of the sounds of our chewing and swallowing.

  “No,” he answers without looking at me. “And I wasn’t aware this was a date.”

  “Oh, um,” I stammer, suddenly feeling more than a little self-conscious. It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood. Now I’ve just made things even more awkward. “Of course, it’s not.”

  “Relax,” Lucifer chortles, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m kidding. Well, not really. I don’t date, Eden. I make deals, I entertain and I fuck. Dating is a mortal practice.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “But if that is something you desire, then I would oblige. And I certainly wouldn’t bring you here to woo you over pancakes for our first date.”

  I blink twice before saying, “Not necessary.”

  “Would you prefer we skip the courting and get right to the fucking?” He playfully wiggles his eyebrows, and I know better than to act offended.

  “I’ll pass. I’d hate to ruin your beautiful walls with my projectile vomit.”

  Like earlier in my bedroom, Lucifer tips his head back and laughs, a sharp, rumbling yet intoxicating sound. Not as deep and guttural as Legion’s, but just as amusing.

  “You’re funny, Eden. I like that. I can appreciate a good sense of humor.”

  I take in his sparkling eyes and devastating smile, and wonder if he’s telling the truth. “I always thought sarcasm was one o
f the Seven Deadly Sins.”

  “Oh, it’s right up there with Gluttony and Lust. I don’t know if I should have you publically flogged or rewarded.”

  He’s still grinning so I take it that he’s joking. But then again, he donned that same grin last night when he ordered two of my former classmates to be raped to death. Just the thought of their lifeless, bloody bodies makes my breakfast revolt in my stomach.

  “What happened to Zachary and Danielle?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  All signs of mirth are instantly erased from Lucifer’s face, and I’m grateful. It’s way too easy to fall for his charm and good looks. And when he knows exactly which buttons to push in my head, it’s best that I hold on to those dreadful scenes from the dining room. I need the horror to anchor me, to remind me of what he really is. I need to feel the same desperate rage that brought me to this place.

  “You mean, are they alive?” He taps the tips of his fingers lightly on the table. “If they were, would that make you feel better about what I did to them? And would that make them less deserving of their fate?”

  I say the words, even though I don’t believe them. “I can’t say anyone deserves to be raped and tortured to death.”

  “Liar,” he smirks. Before a slick retort leaves my lips, he climbs to his feet, and beckons me to do the same with an outstretched hand. “I want to show you something.”

  I look at his hand then his face, my own a trained mask of indifference. “What?”

  “Come. You’ll see. It may give you some of the answers you seek.”

  I rise to my feet, declining his hand in an act of defiance. “And what answers do I seek?”

  “Why you’re here. What your future holds,” he prattles, leading me farther into his living quarters. He stops at an ordinary-looking door and grasps the handle. “And who your beloved Legion really is.”