“Yeah. Yeah, but you—are you sure you’re okay?” He gives me a once-over. His eyes linger on the wounds on my legs then travel up to my chest and the nearly transparent fabric covering it.
I pull my hair down in front of me and twist it in my hands. It not only comforts me—it also blocks his view.
Layering.
“I have to go. If you’re sure you don’t need a ride to the hospital or anything?” He backs away a little, toward the car.
I guess it’s a nice enough response. I would’ve insisted on calling 9-1-1, but then again, I seem unharmed, and he didn’t actually hit me. “No thanks. Go ahead.” I step back toward the shoulder. Maybe if he hurries, my ruse won’t have worked, and he’ll make it. Maybe Heaven sent an Angel to pose as Elvis and delay the marriage.
Yeah, right. Heaven doesn’t interfere, even when you beg.
“What’s your name?” he asks, one leg already in the vehicle.
“Scarlet,” I say. Why not? I’m a Demon now, and one little lie won’t hurt anyone.
He smiles. “See ya, Scarlet. Be careful out here on your own.”
Moments later he speeds off down Highway 15, leaving me in the dust.
I wait for a few minutes—for what, I’m not sure. Lucifer to appear and give me my next assignment, I suppose. But why would he when he can make me suffer by leaving me in the middle of the desert?
I’m going to need some sunglasses, water, and other supplies. I can already feel a burn starting on my shoulders and the backs of my legs. I may be a Demon, but my body still behaves like it’s alive.
The cellphone weighs heavy in my pocket. When I was alive, I would have called a friend like Em to pick me up. That feels like ages ago, even though it’s been less than a year. And I can’t call Josh, that’s for sure.
Pulling out the phone, I open the map to check my location. There’s nowhere close to walk, and Lucifer has only given me the power to disappear and reappear when summoned. Keira can disappear and reappear wherever she likes.
Well, there it is. The answer I’m avoiding.
I press the only name on speed-dial and wait for voicemail to pick up.
“Leave a message or suffer my wrath.”
“It’s me,” I say. “Lucifer left me stranded in the Nevada desert. I could use a ride and some sunscreen.” I press END and stare at the black screen for a full minute. Am I waiting for Keira’s ring or “Highway to Hell”? I’m not sure.
Damn it. Why do I even want to try to seduce Josh? I purposely asked him to stay away so he wouldn’t fall. Someone should get to stay in Heaven. Someone who actually enjoys it.
Plus, maybe—just maybe—he’ll find a way to save Noah from his “fate.” I don’t believe in fate—not anymore. Mr. Griffith said I belong in Heaven, but he threw me out for breaking the rules. So why should I believe?
Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I heave a sigh and start walking down the deserted highway toward Vegas. It’s the fastest way to civilization.
After walking a mile down the road, I’m about to take off my shoes and fling them toward the Joshua trees when I hear the roar of a motor from behind. I shove out my thumb and turn toward the oncoming car. I fling my hair back over my shoulder, leaving my legs and chest in full view. I’m desperate.
The black Vette pulls over, top down, and Keira grins at me from the driver’s seat. She lowers her Louis Vuitton sunglasses an inch and pouts her ruby lips. “You rang?”
“What took you so long?” I ask, yanking open the passenger door and climbing in.
“I was in the middle of something. I have an afterlife, you know.” She tosses me a can of sunscreen, pulls out a small gold lipstick tube, and begins lathering her lips despite the fact that they already look perfect. “That stuff stinks,” she complains, wrinkling her tiny nose at me while I spray my shoulders.
“You could’ve brought the lotion kind,” I say.
She throws the car into gear, making my seatbelt snap back up so I have to start buckling all over again. “I didn’t want you sliding around on my seats. It dulls the leather interior.”
Music blares through the stereo system as we speed down the road to who-knows-where. I don’t feel like asking. I don’t feel like talking at all. Keira obliges. She’s focused on belting out the soundtrack to Chicago, oddly enough.
Pretty soon, Vegas comes into view. I’ve never been before, but there’s no mistaking the cluster of buildings. There’s so much activity that the whole scene appears to move and change right before my eyes. Giant billboards announce attractions and hotels, featuring sexy women in ball gowns and bikinis, famous entertainers, or more sexy women in bizarre costumes and poses.
Keira turns down the volume and inhales deeply. “Vegas, baby. I can smell the debauchery.”
I shift, uncomfortable on the sweaty leather seat despite the air blasting from the dash. “Not my thing.”
Keira sneers. “There’s something for everyone in Vegas. But no worries, Gracie, I’m sure Lucifer will call for you soon enough.”
I beat my head back against the headrest and exhale loudly. “I saw him,” I say. “Noah.”
The car screeches to a halt on the shoulder, kicking up a dust cloud behind us. “When? How is he?” Keira leans across the stick shift to interrogate me. She lowers her designer sunglasses, and her dark eyes reflect concern and something else. Maybe longing.
“Good, I guess. He’s got a throne room like Lucifer’s right in my own house. Apparently no one else can see it for what it is. Lucifer offered me up as a servant, but he sent me away. He didn’t want me. He wanted you.” I try not to sound bitter.
“Me? He asked for me?” Keira’s voice grows shrill with excitement and a healthy dose of fear. We both know her feelings for Noah must remain a secret from Lucifer.
“Lucifer said no,” I tell her. Keira sinks back into her seat, looking defeated, but she straightens up quickly, as if it never happened. “How’s it going with Randy?” I ask about her current assignment, an extremely hot guy meant to make her forget about my brother. She pulls back out onto the road, cutting off another car and quickly leaving it far behind.
She shrugs. “Boring, but nothing I can’t handle.”
We remain silent as she pulls into the valet at the newest and most expensive casino there is. Lavish waterfalls and fountains dance in time to the music that seems to come from all around us as we walk between and beneath the spouts of water toward the enormous glass doors.
I can’t help but think that Keira looks like she belongs here as she struts confidently through the entrance and up to the front of the VIP line. Me? I feel just as lost as ever, trailing behind. I wonder if somehow that man was able to make it on time to stop the wedding. Maybe the girl didn’t want to see him. Maybe it was a good thing I delayed him.
But it can’t be good if Lucifer wanted it to happen. The more I let myself dwell on what I do for Lucifer, the worse I feel, and yet I can’t seem to stop myself no matter how hard I try.
Keira grins at the man behind the counter, who she’s obviously just glamoured, and hands me a golden keycard. “It’s the penthouse suite,” she says with a wink, and leads me off toward the giant elevators encircling a fenced-off atrium, where a large white tiger rests on top of a flat rock, chewing on a hunk of meat.
“Nice kitty,” Keira says with a whistle as we enter one of the glass lifts.
“Isn’t it dangerous to keep it in the middle of a crowded hotel?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from the rapidly shrinking form below.
“Probably. But they have state-of-the-art security. And insurance.” Keira pushes the button repeatedly, as though we aren’t traveling fast enough for her taste.
“I feel bad for him,” I say as the doors open to a sweeping hallway flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows. I’m glad I’m not afraid of heights; there’s only a nearly invisible glass wall between myself and the view. We’re thirty-eight stories up.
“He’s probably better off than if he w
ere in the wild,” Keira says, tapping her keycard against the double doors. “Give a little, get a little. That’s how the world works.”
She leads the way inside, and I gasp at the enormity of it. The same full window-wall view reveals the sunset over a million twinkling lights. There’s a long balcony, a sunken living room, a full bar, and giant triple-size Jacuzzi sitting on a dais near the window.
“There are two bedrooms,” Keira says, tossing her keycard on the coffee table and kicking off her shoes.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on an assignment?” I ask, coming to my senses.
Keira shrugs off her dress and heads toward the Jacuzzi, completely nude, which no longer fazes me. “He’s asleep. There’s a time difference, and he’s dead-to-the-world drunk. Can’t do anything now, so we might as well enjoy ourselves. Do me a favor and pour me a drink, would you?”
I grimace but dig around the bar while she fills the tub and turns on the jets. I set a bottle of champagne down on the edge along with a glass and snag a second bottle on my way toward the bedroom on the left.
“I guess you’re right. Lucifer thinks I’m stuck out in the desert, and he’s busy right now. I might as well relax a little. I could use a good night’s sleep.” Maybe it’ll get my mind off the man I kept from his true love.
“So that’s it? You’re drinking now?” Keira’s taunt stops me in my tracks, but I hang onto the bottle.
“So what if I am? Who’s it going to hurt?” Talk about hypocritical.
Keira sighs heavily. “Lucifer always wins. I just thought it might take more than two weeks to get to you.”
Just when I thought Keira couldn’t piss me off anymore… I spin to face her. “You’re one to talk. Just because I want to relax a little doesn’t mean Lucifer’s won. I haven’t done anything seriously wrong yet, and I don’t intend to. But if stopping some guy from breaking up a wedding gives me more time to get through to my brother, then that’s what I’m going to do.” My grip tightens around the neck of the bottle, and I realize I’m shaking.
“Hmmph.” Keira leans back into the bubbles and rests one foot on the edge of the tub.
“Hmmph? That all you got?”
She shrugs, popping the cork from her bottle with one hand. I jump at the sudden noise. “Want more, Gracie? Okay. Aren’t you supposed to be asking, ‘what if the guy you delayed is supposed to stop the wedding, marry the girl, and father the next Mother Theresa?’ Or, how about, ‘what’s going to happen when Lucifer tells me to do something I know is wrong, and I can’t reason it away?’”
The fight drains from my body, and I nearly collapse on the thick carpet. My voice comes out weak when I answer. “If it’s meant to be, it’s going to happen either way.” But it’s exactly the opposite of what I believe.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Keira toasts the air before guzzling a glass.
I turn and head back toward the bedroom. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I’m hoping the alcohol will help with that. But Keira’s words dig a ditch in my hopes and my excuses.
“Any word from Josh?” Keira calls as I pull the crystal knob. “Maybe he can talk some sense into you.”
And she’s done it—crushed whatever was left of my bravado. In lieu of an answer, I press against the top of the cork with my thumb and send it exploding toward the skylight before slipping away into the silent darkness of my room.
Chapter 3
Keira
Drama Queen. Gracie’s just upset because I’m right. She’s weak when we all need her to be strong. She’s supposed to be the Angel. She’s supposed to resist Lucifer at least a little bit. But so far all she’s done is play along and fall right into Lucifer’s well of self-loathing and doubt.
My eyes burn, so I slide backward, dunking my head beneath the bubbles. A hiss meets me as I rise back through the surface and breathe deeply. Instead of being soothed, I’m agitated, so I reach for my glass with one hand while rubbing the nape of my neck with the other. It’s the spot Maxwell, my asshole ex-husband, bruised while holding me underwater in my washbasin. I’d all but forgotten until Lucifer’s last punishment when he forced me to relive my death.
Guzzling champagne takes some of the edge off, but I’m done with the water, so I climb out, yanking the plug and willing myself dry. I wrap myself in one of the complimentary white robes with the hotel insignia on it. It’s as soft as a cloud but not as comforting as Noah’s arms. I decide to ease the longing by making sure Gracie’s asleep and pulling out some good old-fashioned pen and paper.
Dear Noah,
Grace told me you asked for me. I admit my heart skipped at the thought of being able to touch you again. Being away from you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’d die five times in a row if it meant we could be together.
I crumple the sheet up and toss it over my shoulder, where it disappears. Too sappy. I am NOT sappy. Let’s try again.
Noah,
I hear you’re missing me. The feeling’s mutual. The Boss thinks he can make me forget you by tempting me with other beautiful guys. He doesn’t get it. Not that you aren’t yummy—because you are. But it’s more than that I want.
“I want your body against mine,” I say as I write. “I want to share your sweet breath. I want to be so into each other that nothing and no one else matters.”
I groan, tossing the next sheet over my shoulder. I do want all that. But it’s still too sappy—and too revealing.
Noah,
We will be together again, but we have to be smart about it. Lucifer doesn’t believe in love, so he won’t expect our feelings to last. I’ll “prove” to him that I don’t have feelings for you with my assignment, and he’ll forget about keeping us apart. Just hang in there. Destroy this after you read it.
–K
I read it over twice to be sure and send it to him along with my signature black rose.
“Please don’t forget me while you get heady with power. Don’t become Lucifer.” I say a prayer to Noah since there’s no one else to ask.
I’ve just cleared away the paper and pen when Lucifer appears, startling a gasp from me. Damn. I have to be more careful than that.
“Having fun?” he asks, taking in the room and the champagne in my hand.
“Randy’s out cold for now, and Gracie rang.” I gesture toward the room where she’s sleeping, blissfully unaware that I’m throwing her under the bus.
Lucifer’s gaze remains locked on me. “And you thought you’d help her out. Such a Good Samaritan, Keira. And here I thought you may be helping her get to Noah.”
I laugh despite my blood freezing at his accusation. “Actually, I came because she said ‘Vegas.’ But I can drive her ass back out to the desert if that’s what you want, Boss.” It won’t actually hurt her, and if it convinces Lucifer I’m still 100 percent loyal, so be it.
“So much for female bonding.” Lucifer sits on the pristine sofa, popping a nut in his mouth from a crystal dish on the coffee table.
I shrug and down the remainder of my bubbly. “Every Demon for herself.” If he wants her in the desert, that’s where she’s going, no matter who puts her there.
“Well, I’d like you to take her under your wing like you did with Josh. Show her how it’s done. Tell you what—bring Randy to Vegas. He can stay here with you both. Two for one corruption.”
I sigh.
“Problem?” His eyes light with danger.
I shrug again. “Of course I’ll do it. It’s just that Randy’s so damn boring. There’s no challenge in him, Lucifer. I suppose that’ll make it easier for Gracie, though.” I circle behind him and trace a finger along the top of the sofa.
“He’ll do for now, Keira. Aren’t you attracted to him, at least?” Lucifer’s considering whether I’m falling for his plan. If I sound too eager, he’ll never buy it.
“He’s got the Adonis body,” I admit, “but will that be enough for Gracie? I do admit that he gets much more enticing when he does his thing.”
; Randy’s a magician, and the “thing” I’m referring to is his ability to plan a great con or burglary using sleight of hand to redirect attention. It’s the ability I’m supposed to nurture, which feels so obviously unnecessary that it’s laughable. The real reason Lucifer assigned me to Randy was to have sex with someone other than Noah and get my mind off him. There’s also a worse possibility—he assigned me to Randy so he can show Noah that I’m having sex with someone else and make him angry.
“It’s a great natural talent, isn’t it?” Lucifer asks while pointing to the half-drunk champagne bottle sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi.
He could conjure himself anything he wants. He just wants to remind me that I’m his servant. I comply by handing him a glass and leaning over him from behind, running my hands down the arms of his suit jacket.
“Anything else you require, Boss?” I purr in his ear. As far as I know, Lucifer’s asexual. He gets off on the pain and misery of others, not physical or emotional love, but it never hurts to suck up a little.
Lucifer grabs me by the scruff of the neck, and I wince because it feels like the bruise is still fresh and tender.
“Yes. You have a job to do. Get to work. I have a world to take over, and I can’t be babysitting Demons.”
He releases his grip on my neck and stands to face me, tugging his jacket into place. “Oh, and Keira? If I so much as see you in Washington state, you will be Maxwell’s plaything for the next two hundred years. Got it?”
“Yes, Boss. I never liked it there anyway. Too dreary,” I lie.
As Lucifer disappears from view, the Jacuzzi roars to life, full of water, and the bruise on the back of my neck throbs.
*
By the time Gracie finally comes out of her room, Randy’s made himself at home—he’s lounging on the sofa with a beer in hand, trunks still dripping all over the furniture from his morning swim.
Soul Conquered Page 2
