Luck of the Devil

by Patricia Eimer

  “Divine,” he said. He pushed me backward and I fell onto the bed, still wrapped inside his wings. His hands teased as they circled over my skin, golden light flickering and warming me. They caressed my shoulders, my sides, and the backs of my knees before skimming my inner thighs, across my stomach, and my breasts.

  My stomach clenched with need. I weaved my fingers into his hair, drawing his face to mine and kissing him with all the passion I possessed. His fire mingled with my own, the mixture of light and dark crackling where they met, the heat of so much power intensifying with every touch.

  Humming in appreciation, he stilled his caresses and parted my legs to lie between my thighs. He shifted and pressed against me, then thrust forward to fill me. Dark merged with light, and the collision of good and evil caused me to arch into him in delight.

  The world began to tighten around me, and my fingers clawed into his back, steering clear of his feathers. I wasn’t about to spontaneously find out his stance on masochism in the bedroom our first time.

  His hips thrust faster and harder, and he buried his face in my neck, nibbled on my ears, and pulled me tighter against him. I shifted my hips just right, and the world exploded into white, releasing all the energy in my body.

  Matt gasped, trembled, and came, saying my name over and over. Still inside me, he kissed my neck, my cheek, and then my lips before he rolled over and pulled me against his side.

  “That was the most incredible thing ever,” he whispered.

  “Mmmm,” I murmured in response and smiled. “I was pretty awesome.”

  “Were you, now?” He chuckled and rolled on top of me, nuzzling into the side of my neck.

  “I feel pretty awesome.” I giggled and he nibbled along the length of my collarbone.

  “Wouldn’t that mean I’m awesome? Or was there someone else here I don’t know about?”

  “Just me and you.”

  He slid down the length of my body, leaving a trail of hot kisses behind. “So it’s me who’s awesome because of how I made you feel.”

  “I’m not awesome?”

  “You’re enthralling, addictive… ” He pulled my leg over his shoulder and began to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses against the length of my inner thigh.

  “But not awesome?”

  “Amazing, and most importantly… ”

  “Most importantly?”

  His mouth moved higher, licking and nipping my skin until my breath came out in gasps. “Mine.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I slipped out of bed a little after four in the morning and moved the sheet up to cover the snoring nephilim. A black feather tangled in his hair, and I would’ve taken it out if I hadn’t thought it would wake him. Not that it would make a difference. Dozens of black and white feathers littered the room.

  I used my tail to snag my dress from the floor while I stepped into my shoes. Pulling my dress on, I groped for other articles of clothing that had ended up scattered around the room. Once I had everything, I tiptoed out of the bedroom, through his apartment, and into the hallway. When I made it into the hall, I glanced around, listening. Oh, shit. What if my father was still in my apartment? He’d better not be waiting up for me, or something else inappropriately father-like. Time to work the demon stealth and hope he wasn’t defiling any more of my furniture with my mother or, even worse, alone. Ugh.

  “What? Are you practicing to be a ninja or something?” Hope asked from the darkness.

  I shrieked. Crushing my palm over my racing heart, I made my eyes glow red and stared at her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to wake the good-looking booty call you’re sneaking out on, screaming like that.”

  “What are you doing sitting on the steps like some sort of ghost? Don’t I have enough of that with Harold?”

  “Boris is in one of his religious fits. Praying for the safety of Brother Ev until he can return to his side. I couldn’t take any more so I bailed out here to enjoy the beautiful silence.”

  “How’s that whole situation going?”

  “It’s going. Not nearly fast enough, in my opinion. But it’s going. I just want Dad to clear the paperwork so I can try to get my life back on track.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not,” she said. “It’s over. Feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to change that. I just want to get on with my life and I can’t do that while he’s lying on my couch and yammering all night to a God that isn’t listening.”

  “What about the Alpha? Do you think He’ll let him go back to Idaho after everything’s been cleared?”

  “There is no way the Alpha is going to trust a reformed demon amongst a group of mortals. There’s too much of a chance for a relapse for one, and, two, you know He’s more discreet than that. I think, if He had his way, everyone would be completely hands-off and we’d sit back and watch.”

  “That would make it a lot harder for Dad to keep his side of the bargain.”

  “Tell me about it,” Hope said.

  I sat on the steps next to her and noticed that instead of her normal black silk pajamas, she wore dingy, gray sweats. Obviously, she was taking the situation with Boris harder than I thought. Hope was not one to give up her designer swag.

  “If we go non-interference on them I’ll never make my way back into everyone’s good graces.”

  I nudged her with my shoulder. “Hey, you’re still in my good graces. All you have to do is pay your rent on time.”

  “Yeah.” She nudged me back. “I’ll be getting right on that with my new top-dollar salary volunteering at the prison.”

  “How much are they paying you?”

  “Did you not hear my use of the V-word?”

  “A whole great big nada, then?”

  “And that includes tips.”

  “Crap, how’s it going otherwise?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, the warden was easily enthralled so he’s agreed to let me teach two classes, one on basic communication skills and the other on public speaking. But I have to go back this week and take a special training class before they actually set me up with any students. Something about safety precautions, interaction with the prisoners, yada yada yada. I tried to talk my way out of it, but he clung to that bureaucracy like a drowning man to a tree branch.”

  “Okay, but look on the bright side. He’s going to give you the list of the things you should be doing.”

  “Pretty much. It’s like he’s laying out a road map of how to send them straight to Hell.”

  “And you said you talked to Dad? Was that before or after yesterday’s friendly discussion?”

  “Before. I haven’t seen him since I left your place.”

  “Is he still in there?”

  “No, you’re safe. He’s not going to find out you were romancing the mortal neighbor. But you did wipe his memory, right?”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve got a feather in your hair.” She reached out and plucked the feather off my head. She looked at it and squeezed her lips. “Hmm.”

  “What?” I tried to keep my cool. I was a grown-up. I was tough. I was confident. I did not wilt around my sister like two-day-old spinach in a heat wave.

  I was so fucked.

  She tapped my nose with a white feather. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “We tore the duvet?”

  “Those are goose down, not nephilim down. Try again.”

  “Fine. He’s a nephilim, okay? An Angale. Go ahead and bitch me out now.”

  “Damn.” Hope whistled quietly. “You booty-called an Angale? Lucky you survived it. What did you do? Tie him up?”

  “He’s gone rogue. And before you ask, yes, you felt sparks coming off him before. He’s figured out some way to mask that he’s a nephilim and appear human.”

  “Clever.” She rose, reaching down to pull me up as well, and opened my door.

  “I was impressed.”

  “Let me guess.” She flopped on my couch. “He
decided to hide near another immortal because it would confuse people when they went looking for him. They’d feel the energy coming off the building and think it was from you and pass on by.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Uh-huh. Did he come looking for you on purpose, or were you the first immortal he could find?”

  “He said he came looking for me in particular. Claimed it would completely throw the Angale off track. Who expects an Angale to set up next door to the Devil’s youngest daughter?”

  “Sounds sharp,” Hope said. “Until the shagging started and out popped his wings. I’ll bet that was a bit of a surprise, wasn’t it?”

  “He told me before the shagging started. And he was nice enough to tell me, and not just whip the wings out for me to see.”

  “I can imagine. So what are you going to tell Dad?”

  “Dad? You blow a major gasket on him yesterday, and you’re concerned about what Dad’s going to say? Besides, who said I have to even open my big fat mouth and tell him?”

  “You can’t not tell him that you’re fucking a member of the other team, Faith. I mean, you could, but it would be nuts. Hell, I’m starting to think you are nuts. Or suicidal. Either is possible.”

  “Matt doesn’t have a problem with our kind.”

  “Yeah, and cattle ranchers don’t have a problem with wolves. It doesn’t stop them from killing one when they have enough incentive.”

  “He’s not like that.”

  “Look, I’m the last person on earth you should be taking relationship advice from, but keep your wits about you. Okay? They all seem nice at the beginning, and then they screw you over.”

  “Boris was never nice.”

  “Not to you. Like I said, just don’t go planning on white picket fences and skipping off merrily into the sunset.”

  “But—”

  “This isn’t like Dan. This guy could wait until you’re not paying attention one night and take you apart. And if he catches you by surprise, or he lets a couple of other Angale gang up on you, you’ll never have a chance.”

  “This is nothing like Dan.”

  “Of course it’s not. This is suicidal. That was just some stupid delusion on your part where you believed you could actually live a human life and he’d never notice you weren’t everything you seemed. Or more than you seemed. Didn’t you think the not-aging thing would have tipped him off eventually?”

  “I thought he’d believe I was doing it gracefully,” I said. But even as the words left my mouth I knew how weak they sounded. “Who thinks they’ve married a demon? And why didn’t you tell me you knew about him?”

  “Because you didn’t want me to know about him, and you didn’t want him to know about us. I wanted to respect your wishes. Anyway, it was over before I had the chance to say something and I thought you’d be happier without me saying ‘I told you so.’ ”

  “I told you so?”

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been able to help myself. I’m evil, it’s in my nature.”

  “So what do I do about Dad?” I stretched out across the love seat’s cushions, closing my eyes. “He’s going to be pissed.”

  “Well, the first question to ask yourself is this: are you seeing the nephilim again? If not, there’s no reason to tell Dad anything. It was fun, he was hot, and you both got what you were looking for. End of story. But if you’re intending to go back to the buffet, you’ve got to give Dad a heads-up before someone else tells him.”

  “Great.”

  “But you’ve got a great start already.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Dad feels like an ass right now. He’s in a much more generous mood, especially if he thinks it will make you like him again. Think about when we were kids, when he and Mom got in a fight we always got the best I Feel Like Shit swag from him.”

  “Yeah, but Matt isn’t an Easy-Bake Oven,” I said.

  “No, but you aren’t six anymore, are you? Think of him as a grown-up version of an I’m Sorry present.”

  “And with that,” I said, sitting up, “I’m going to bed. You wanna take the couch, or are you going to haunt my stairwell all night?”

  “How do I pull the bed out again?”

  I pulled out the bottom part of the bed, one of those little Ikea beauties that didn’t take a PhD in rocket science to figure out. Meanwhile, Hope flipped open the top of the storage cube I used for an end table and pulled out one of my spare blankets.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Not a big deal. Good night.”

  “Yeah, you too,” she said, curling up on the couch.

  “Hey, Hope?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That stuff you said to Dad… ”

  “I meant every word of it. Good night.”

  “Yeah, good night.” I hurried to my room. Hope obviously didn’t want to share her feelings on the whole Dad thing and I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  Inside my room, I closed the door and pulled off my wrinkled clothes, slipping into my comfiest pair of pajamas. If Hope could sleep in old gray sweats, I could rock a pair of pink flannel penguin pajamas without shame.

  I noticed a white envelope on my pillow. Correction: the white envelope. The one from the hospital. That had been hidden in my underwear drawer when I left this afternoon. I opened my drawer and saw an identical envelope right where I’d left it earlier.

  My hands trembled and my heart raced.

  I picked it up, opened it, and found another stack of pictures tucked inside. The envelope slid out of my fingers and landed on the bed, scattering the pictures across it.

  My father and mother leaving the apartment building this afternoon.

  Hope at the prison.

  Matt and me at the bar.

  Matt and me wandering through Paris together.

  I stared at the picture of Matt and me kissing in front of the Louvre.

  I picked up the note.

  I will slay the destroyer of wicked

  And will show those that corrupt

  and taint the Godly with sin

  No mercy

  I was being stalked by one sick immortal. Shit. I did what any self-respecting, tough, confident, modern demoness would do: I screamed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “This is bad.” Hope looked down at the pictures scattered on my bed. “Really, really bad.”

  “What’s bad?” Tolliver asked, stumbling into my bedroom with Lisa at his side, both of them rubbing their eyes.

  I looked between the two of them. What was Tolliver doing in Lisa’s room? And why was he wearing a pair of blue pajama pants with rubber duckies on them? “What are you doing here?”

  He yawned. “Discovering the cure for cancer, obviously. What do you do at four in the morning? Sleep?”

  “Shut up.” Hope pointed to the bed. “We’ve got a sicko.”

  “She is not.” Tolliver looked at the picture of Matt kissing me and smirked. “She’s just a little desperate for attention right now.”

  He cocked his head to the right and sniffed loudly, then peered at the picture, back up at me, and sniffed again. “Neighbor boy’s from angelic stock, huh? Kinky.”

  “How did you know Matt was a nephilim?” I said.

  “Well, you’re kissing him in this picture and you smell like a mixture of sunshine and cookies, which mean you’ve been shagging a member of the Heavenly Order. And I assume you can’t manage two men in one night. Why? Was I wrong?”

  “No, you’re not wrong. Wait a second! What do you mean I can’t manage two men in one night?”

  “Children,” Hope said irritably, and motioned toward the pictures. “Could we focus more on our guest? Faith, do you have any idea who could have put these here?”

  “No, but they’re exactly like the ones from the hospital.”

  “What pictures from the hospital?” Hope asked, her voice sharp.

  I got the other envelope out of my top drawer and handed it to her. She flipped through the pic
tures silently and handed them to Tolliver.

  “Damn,” he whistled.

  “What?” Lisa asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Apparently Faith’s got a fan. And not in that nice Bakes You Cookies sort of way. More of the nasty Kills a Bunny and Leaves it on Your Front Step type.”

  “So what do we do?” I asked.

  “We tell Dad,” Tolliver said, and threw the pictures he was holding on the bed with the others.

  “We do not,” Hope said. “He is the last person we want involved in this mess. We handle it ourselves.”

  “Hope, I know you’re mad. But Faith’s got a demon hunter after her. Not some run-of-the-mill human stalker. A demon hunter. These guys are badass, and we need Dad.”

  “No we don’t. He’ll lock Faith up in Purgatory until this asshole is caught. Which might never happen.”

  “Great, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, glaring at her.

  Tolliver ignored me and stepped between the two of us. “So what do you suggest we do? Wait for this hunter to banish her?”

  “No, we sit tight and figure out who or what is messing with our baby sister. Then we catch him, kick his ass, and once we’ve had our fill, we hand him over to Dad.”

  “I still think we should involve Dad now,” Tolliver said.

  “I agree with Hope,” I said. “We’re immortals. Evil immortals. Satan’s spawn. Surely one sick freak can’t be that much trouble. Besides, there’s four of us and one of him.”

  “Five of us,” Lisa corrected. “I think Mr. Cookies-and-Sunshine is going to want to throw a few punches as well.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Tolliver said.

  “It’s a bloody brilliant idea,” Hope corrected.

  “What?” Certainly, bringing Matt into this little game of Find the Demon Hunter was not a good idea.

  “Matt’s an Angale. He would know which one of them was off their rocker enough to stop talking and start doing. And he’ll know what the freak looks like,” Lisa said.

  “He could lure him somewhere so we can handle the situation.” Tolliver smiled and his tail descended, waving back and forth like a particularly evil cat’s. He hugged Lisa’s shoulders as his horns sprouted through his curls. “And we’ll feast on angel flesh, my lovely.”