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Midnight With the Devil

Page 11

by Emma Castle


  “Are you kidding me?” She groaned and shoved her face beneath the shower spray and sighed. Her body still trembled with little aftershocks. He’d just fucked her and then vanished. A flush of shame rolled through her, and her eyes burned with tears, but she held them back. She finished showering, washing off his scent, the ghostly feel of his touch, everything.

  I’ll just try to pretend it didn’t happen.

  It would be impossible, but she had to try. Once all these midnights with Lucien were over, she would go back to her normal life and try to forget this. She stepped out of the shower and reached for a fluffy white towel. Steam fogged the mirror, and Diana smeared a hand over the glass so she could see herself. She looked tired, as tired as she’d felt in the last few years watching her dad’s illness eat away at his life and strength.

  Don’t forget who you’re doing this for, remember?

  Diana twisted her wet hair into a braid and quickly changed into her spare clothes. The bathing suit was gone, probably back in Belize, and she was glad. She didn’t want any reminders about last night. She felt cheap and ashamed. Not about what she’d done but because of who she’d done it with.

  He’d said he wanted her innocence, so maybe if she wasn’t innocent anymore he’d lose interest. That wouldn’t be her fault. Nothing in the agreement said he couldn’t terminate the contract if he got bored. He could just make her dad sick again, couldn’t he? Or maybe not…

  Diana remembered the letter from the attorney when she’d received the contract. If she could meet with him, she could get some clarification. She wasn’t above playing like a bad girl to reduce her innocent appeal. And after last night, she knew she would enjoy it all too much.

  The driver was waiting for her when she left Lucien’s apartment, and she nodded at him. He answered with a more relaxed smile.

  “I’m Diana, by the way. I feel we should be on a first-name basis after all the time we’ll spend together.”

  The driver chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m Douglas.”

  “Do I call you Doug?” she asked, grinning.

  “No way. I hate Doug.”

  “Douglas it is.” She held out her hand, and the driver shook it. Then she climbed into the back seat. Once he was behind the wheel, she spoke again.

  “So how did you end up working for the devi—I mean Mr. Star?”

  “Well…” He pulled out into traffic and took his time answering. “I was in a bit of trouble. My construction company went underwater—financially, I mean.”

  Diana settled her duffel bag over her lap and held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

  “One day I’m driving out in the country. I’m feeling like shit, and I know my wife and three kids are relying on me to get the business back up and running or else we would lose our house and…” He paused again, his voice a little rougher than before.

  “I was feeling bad, really bad, and I had to stop my car and get out. I was a few seconds away from jumping in front of the next truck that barreled down the road. And that’s when I saw him. Mr. Star just materialized in the center of the crossroads.” Douglas drummed one finger on the steering wheel.

  “He comes over to me and asks me what I would do to save my company.”

  “What did you say?” Diana thought back to the moment in the hospital chapel when she’d told Lucien she would give anything to save her father’s life.

  “Anything,” Douglas echoed.

  “Same here,” she replied softly. “My dad had colon cancer.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” Douglas said. His gaze met hers in the rearview mirror.

  “He’s better now, obviously.” She chuckled dryly. “So what’s your deal? With Lucien, I mean.”

  “I get the pleasure of being his weekend chauffeur. Usually he can just appear where he wants. I’m sure you’ve seen him do it?”

  Diana nodded.

  “Sometimes he likes me to just drive him around. He’ll sit in the back seat and tell me to drive until the gas tank’s almost empty.”

  “Hmmm…” Diana couldn’t fathom why Lucien would want to do that.

  “I guess he likes to have time to think or something,” Douglas said. “It must suck to be the king of hell. Think of all the bad, irritating shit you’d have to put up with. He once told me he had to deal with Joseph Stalin. Can you imagine? I would hate that job too.”

  Diana sat back, a dozen thoughts beating around her head. Maybe Douglas was onto something. What if the devil didn’t like his job, didn’t like being evil? He’d already told her that he didn’t create sin, people did, and that he didn’t make people sin, he only punished them if they went astray. There were people he enticed into corruption, but he never made them corrupt. He merely offered opportunities.

  “Douglas, do you know where the office of Lionel Barnaby is?”

  “Mr. Star’s lawyer? Yeah, why?”

  “I want to ask a few questions about my contract. Do you think he’s in his office on a Saturday?”

  The driver chuckled. “Looking for loopholes? I did the same. Yeah he works Saturdays.”

  “Did you find any loopholes?” she asked hopefully.

  “Nope. He drafted that thing solidly. Barnaby’s office is at 7923 East Parkway Avenue.”

  Diana fiddled with the zipper on her duffel bag, thinking. If she could find out whether there were any loopholes, she might still be able to save her dad without any more midnight visits. After last night, she knew that if she kept going to see him, she would truly lose herself in him.

  “Here we are,” Douglas said as he pulled up in front of her apartment.

  “Thanks.” She slipped out of the car and threw her duffel bag over her shoulder. Her thoughts were miles away as she headed to her apartment. How on earth was she going to find a loophole in a deal with the devil?

  10

  And should I at your harmless innocence melt, as I do. - John Milton, Paradise Lost

  Jimiel lingered outside the door to Diana’s apartment, thoughts rushing through his head. He needed to find a way to protect Diana. He had been given clear orders from Michael himself.

  She must live. She must be kept safe.

  Jimiel had failed Diana.

  From the moment she’d been born he’d been there, watching over her, keeping her safe. He’d been her imaginary friend, her school ground playmate, the boy at the prom who danced with her when her date bailed on her. Every pain he could spare her, he had. Until her father’s illness. There were some things he couldn’t help, not without crossing the line. Going against orders was just as bad as failing to keep her alive. So he watched, he waited. He had borne each of her pains in his own heart. Angels did not feel pain the way mortals did. When Diana cried, her heart felt like it was bleeding and cut from her chest. Yet she continued to breathe, continued to be strong. With an angel, it was different.

  Jimiel placed a hand on her door, using his extra senses to listen to her talk to her cat. He smiled a little, despite his worry. She was tough. His little mortal charge could handle almost anything.

  When angels experienced pain, it affected every cell of their body. Like a pulse of electricity shooting through them, frying every fiber of their being and paralyzing them. Angels were hard to hurt and nearly impossible to kill. That made them strong enough to fight the demons. Demons were angels who had been so fully corrupted that they’d left the light behind. Jimiel rarely encountered demons. His heavenly job assignments were usually to help share the burden of a human’s pain. More than once Jimiel had visited Diana’s father for such a purpose.

  I couldn’t heal him, but no one said I couldn’t ease his pain. So he had sat with the man for hours, lightly touching his hand and siphoning off the pain. It had been worth it to see Diana’s face when her father had said he felt good and had no pain that day. It hadn’t stopped her tears each time she returned to her car in the hospital parking lot, but it had given her some relief.

  But how could he save Diana from Lucifer? The fallen a
ngel was powerful, the king of hell itself. No normal angel could survive a battle with him. Even archangels tiptoed around him when their paths sometimes crossed. Lucifer may be the devil, but he had been known to many as the favorite son, the brightest star. Not even the blackness of the end of the world could have dimmed his burning beacon when he’d been an angel of the light.

  Jimiel had never known him then, but the stories… Lucifer before the fall had been a legend. But his pride had been too strong, and his need to be more important than the humans Father created had been his undoing.

  Pride goeth before the fall.

  Jimiel studied the door to Diana’s apartment, wondering how he could save her from the devil. She was going to visit an attorney this morning, that much was clear. He would listen in on that conversation, just in case there was something worth hearing. If he could find a way to circumvent the time Lucifer spent around her, then he might be able to stop Lucifer from corrupting her. Every soul that Jimiel had seen make deals came out darker, hungrier for the things they shouldn’t want, like pain, death, greed. So far, Diana hadn’t shown any signs. A little rough sex wasn’t darkness, not to angels. No, it was greed for money, greed for power, a lust for hurting others. He would do anything to stop Lucifer from turning Diana into that.

  Anything.

  Lucien prowled into the cavernous room of his office in hell. It held a rather rustic, otherworldly charm that clearly screamed “the devil works here,” with the black diamond fireplace, the large roughhewn dark wood desk, the chains on one wall, and a few torture implements on the other side. But he rarely spent time down here. Torture wasn’t his thing. He outsourced that to the more trustworthy demons he kept imprisoned in hell. Most fallen angels like him weren’t drawn to pain, either to feel it or to cause it. Angels had one weakness. Pleasure in all forms. It was an emotion that they should only experience in the presence of their father, unless they fell. They were free to taste the world as humans do, but everything was still a little faded.

  Pleasure that was dimmed was still better than no pleasure at all. Andras was like him, focused on pleasure, but as the Fallen they faced the task of being the gatekeepers to hell. Angels who went too far, who loved the darkness too much, always changed. The ones who loved death, pain, greed, and power mutated into the worst demons. Lucifer had dominion over them, despite his own loathing of them.

  “Everything all right?” Andras asked as he materialized in the doorway.

  “Yes.” The word was a lie. They both knew it. One of the funny things about hell? You couldn’t hide the truth, not once you passed the gates. A lie uttered even from Lucien’s lips held an easily detectable ring of falseness to it.

  “It’s her, isn’t it? You went back to her this morning.”

  “I did.” He had returned when he shouldn’t have, but she’d called his name and had asked for her bag, and he’d wanted to see her just once more. He’d expected to see her leaving his penthouse, but she hadn’t been leaving—she had been in his bathroom ready for a shower. He had lingered there, invisible, watching her strip naked. It hadn’t been her naked body that had fascinated him, but her. There had been a soft, alluring vulnerability to her that called to the dead part of him, the angel he had been before the fall. Angels had been created to serve and protect, to guide. Vulnerability brought out those angelic instincts.

  “Are you sure she’s worth the risk?” Andras asked.

  “Risk?” Lucien leaned back against the front of his desk, eyeing his friend.

  Andras shrugged. “The more you bring her into your world, the more she tastes the dark, the more you will crave her light. It happens to all of us.”

  “Even you?” Lucien asked, curious about Andras’s sudden openness. Usually the fallen angel kept his thoughts closed off and his mind clear of such concerns.

  “Even me. I have been tempted once. But I stayed away. She reminded me too much of what I had once been. We can’t have both worlds, the light and the dark. Only mortals are that fortunate.”

  Lucien crossed his arms. “I have no intention of returning. You know heaven would never allow it. They stuck me with this job, and I have to see it through until the end…whenever that may be.”

  There was nothing more hellish than facing hundreds of millennia of this as his sole purpose. Only Diana had given him a purpose in the last few days. Being around her had rejuvenated him, giving him a feeling of light.

  “Be careful, Lucien, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t let a mortal get a hold over you,” Andras warned.

  Lucien wanted to rage at the other angel, but he couldn’t. Andras was right. If he wasn’t careful, Diana could take him over, make him forget who he was and the power he wielded.

  Fury dotted his vision with black spots. I am the fucking king of hell. No one controls me. No one.

  He would keep playing with the little mortal, but he would not let her hold sway or gain any power over him. She was a toy—a lovely, sweet, intoxicating toy. He glanced at Andras.

  “Did you have anything else to say?”

  Andras’s blue eyes sparked with red fire.

  “The demons are restless. You need to give them work to do or they’ll focus on destruction topside. I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of the violence they cause.”

  Lucien agreed. Demons topside were a bad thing. They usually caused natural disasters and other destruction.

  “I’ll take care of it. You focus on the guardian angel Jimiel. I want to know what he’s up to. He’s guarding Diana for a reason. I want to know why. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Agreed.” Andras vanished, and the soft flutter of invisible shadow wings was the only evidence he’d been there seconds before.

  Lucien knew he needed to stay in the realm of hell for a while longer, but once he’d seen everything was back in order, he’d go spy on his toy. The thought curled his lips into a devil-may-care-grin that only made him laugh darkly.

  I may care indeed.

  Diana sat in a cream-colored leather chair in the brightly lit modern lobby of the law firm of Barnaby, Denton, Riggsley, and Jones LLP. It was only ten in the morning, but she was glad the law firm was open on a Saturday. A beautiful brunette receptionist in her early twenties smiled at Diana from behind the expensive granite counter of the front desk. As the woman answered phone calls, Diana examined her surroundings. Glass offices lined the walls on either side of the lobby, and whenever a lawyer closed his or her door, the glass frosted, giving them privacy with their clients. It had to cost a fortune to have an entire floor of offices like that.

  I guess working for the devil pays well.

  “Miss Kingston, Mr. Barnaby will see you now. Please follow me.” The receptionist slipped her headset off and got up, waiting for Diana to follow. They walked to the end of the hall, and she was shown into a corner office.

  “Mr. Barnaby, this is Miss Kingston,” the receptionist announced, and she closed the door, sealing them inside the frosted glass. Diana turned her focus to the man who rose from the desk and held out his hand for her to shake.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kingston.” Mr. Barnaby was in his fifties, and he was rather ordinary with slightly silver hair and kind eyes. Diana had honestly expected somebody sleazy or slimy.

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Barnaby.” Diana shook his hand.

  “Please, call me Lionel. Have a seat.” He waved toward a pair of expensive armchairs that faced his desk, and she sat.

  “Now,” Lionel said as he smiled again. “How may I help you? You are here for the midnight contract, right?”

  “The midnight contract?” Diana asked.

  “Oh yes!” The attorney chuckled. “That’s what my filing system has it as. Each contract with Mr. Star has a unique element to it. In your case, you meet with Mr. Star at midnight.”

  “Oh, right.” She nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

  “What questions do you have?” Lionel settled back in his chair, patient a
nd polite.

  Diana still couldn’t believe she was talking to the devil’s attorney. “Well…” She tried not to fidget. “It’s about the termination clause. If Mr. Star gets bored with me before three months of Fridays are up, does that void the contract?” She paused, clearing her throat. “I mean, like if he decides he doesn’t want me anymore, my dad’s condition couldn’t go back to…”

  “Will your father die?” Lionel steepled his fingers and peered at her over the tips of his fingers.

  “Yes.” She held her breath, terrified of the answer.

  “No, he won’t die. Mr. Star admits that his attention can wander. Over the years I’ve worked as his counsel, I’ve been able to guide him toward a rule that contracts cannot be broken based on whims. If there is one thing he understands and supports, it’s rules.”

  “But he’s…you know…isn’t he supposed to be all about breaking rules?” Diana couldn’t see Lucien playing by any rules.

  “From what I understand of Mr. Star’s situation, he doesn’t mind rules and fairness. Strange, I know, but it has to do with the cosmic balance. The light and the dark are bound by equal rules.”

  “My dad is safe, even if the devil—I mean Mr. Star—loses interest in me?”

  “Yes. He won’t break his promise,” Lionel reassured her. “Did you have any other questions?”

  Diana nodded. “I do.” One question had been oddly burning into her mind on the way over to Lionel’s office. “What happens if I miss a Friday? Not by my choice, but if something happens to keep me from coming against my will?”

  “Like having an unavoidable conflict?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You will need to reach out to Mr. Star and explain your situation. Another day may be negotiated, but there’s no guarantee. I will of course be happy to speak with him on your behalf should a situation arise. I would be remiss if I didn’t encourage you to see an attorney to represent you if you want the contract analyzed. Of course, that may be difficult given Mr. Star’s identity and the nature of the contract. I represent Mr. Star’s interests, not yours, however I do attempt fairness as much as possible. I’d be happy to speak to anyone you hire for representation.”

 

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