by Emma Castle
“These are quite excellent.” He set the cake in the cart, and if the devil could preen, he was certainly doing it now. “What else?” he asked.
“That’s it. After the buns, I mean.”
“You want me to say buns again, don’t you?” Lucien grinned wickedly.
“No!” She laughed and grabbed several bags of buns for both hot dogs and hamburgers.
“We don’t need anything else?” Lucien glanced around the store hopefully.
“You really like shopping, don’t you?” She laughed at his baffled expression.
“I suppose I do.” He guided the shopping cart to the nearest line. She quickly put their items on the belt for a scanner.
“You check out yourself?” Lucien watched her in fascination.
“Do you ever spend time in the world in normal places?”
“Not really.” He paused and handed her items. “I stick to clubs and—well, mostly clubs. Although I did visit your friend’s Occultist’s Apothecary shop the other day.”
“What?” Diana swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “You went to see Amara? Please don’t hurt her. She—”
Lucien cupped her chin, the hold firm but gentle. “She’s fine. I was merely curious as to who you are trying to get to help you defy me. The white witch is a smart choice.”
“I didn’t go to defy you.” She tried to pull away, but he curled one arm around her waist. To anyone walking by it probably looked like they were embracing like lovers, not that she was being held captive by the devil.
“You weren’t?” Lucien’s sensual mouth was a hard line, and it frightened her a little. Okay, a lot.
“No. I was just freaked out, okay? I’d only just realized the bargain we made wasn’t a dream, and it scared me. I needed to talk to somebody who believed in that stuff. I didn’t know she was a white witch.”
Lucien brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.
“Lucky for you, I can taste truth.” He leaned down and sealed his lips over hers. The kiss was explosive and sinful, open-mouthed with tongue.
Good God… She melted into him, grasping his shoulders to stay on her feet.
When their lips finally parted, she stumbled a little and bumped into the shopping cart.
“Truth.” Lucien’s lips curved up in a smile. “Good girl. You should never lie to the devil.”
“I wasn’t trying to lie.” She stared into his dark fathomless eyes, wishing she could read his expression. Everything about him was so closed off all the time. He was a dark mystery wrapped in obsidian and buried in fathoms of crushing oblivion. It was easy to become lost in his gaze. It sucked her in, drew her into a black hole where no light could shine. There was just nothingness. A tremor rippled through Diana’s body and soul.
Lucien’s hands absorbed her shaking, and he suddenly released her, stepping back as he resumed helping her check out. The darkness, the frightening “end” she had sensed just beneath the surface of his gaze had vanished, and once more he looked like an all too sexy man casually shopping for groceries. They checked out, and then they took the cart outside and loaded her trunk. She watched him return the cart to one of the cart kiosks in the parking lot.
“Now what?” Lucien asked.
“We’re done. I guess I’ll see you next Friday night at midnight.” She turned to the driver’s-side door and pulled on the handle, but the door didn’t open. Because a large masculine hand was pressed on the top of the door, keeping it closed. Tension coiled inside her as she spoke.
“Lucien, I really need to go. My parents are expecting me.”
“At this barbecue?” he asked. There was a hint of a challenge in his tone.
“Yeah.” She kept her own voice casual, hoping he wouldn’t be interested in coming.
“Then I’ll come too.”
Shit. So much for the casual plan.
She laughed a little too hysterically. “You can’t come to a barbecue. My parents and their neighbors will be there.” She gave another fruitless tug on the handle.
“So?” he growled in obvious frustration.
“You can’t just—”
“Can’t I? Do you forget who you’re talking to? I’m the damned devil. I’ve ended worlds, destroyed empires, and you think you can keep me away from some barbecue?”
Well shit. He has a point. She couldn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted to do. That was the problem.
“Okay, you can come, but you have to act normal.”
“Right.” He chuckled darkly. “Hide the horns and absolutely no stabbing of the guests with my pitchfork.” He raked his gaze down her body. “But I might stab you with another kind of pitchfork if you ask me nicely…on your knees.”
This time she challenged him with her darkest look. “That is something I have to do only on Fridays.”
She expected him to be outraged and demand sensual obedience. Instead, he flashed her a wicked, cocky grin.
“You may tell yourself whatever you like, darling, but you like it and me. Soon you will be begging for me on nights other than Friday.” He lifted his hand from the top of her car door, and she opened it with relief. That relief was short-lived, however, because he climbed into the car beside her and buckled himself in.
“Please don’t do anything crazy to embarrass me or my parents, or scare anyone, for that matter.”
He mimed a small cross over his heart. “Promise.”
God, this is probably going to be a huge mistake, Diana thought as she turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot. She couldn’t help but think of one of her favorite old movies, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. In the movie, the young woman brings home a man her parents don’t approve of because he’s black. It was a stunning movie that defied racial prejudices, and it was a powerful love story. But taking Lucien to a barbecue? This was no love story, and he was the devil.
Guess who I’m bringing to dinner?
12
For while I sit with thee I seem in Heaven, and sweeter thy discourse is to my ear than fruits of palm-tree, pleasantest to thirst. - John Milton, Paradise Lost
Lucien watched the parade of middle-aged couples entering the front door of Diana’s parents’ home, each carrying a tray of food or drinks. They all wore comfortable-looking clothes. He glanced down at his favorite suit. Time for a wardrobe change. Closing his eyes, he snapped his fingers, and when he opened them he had on jeans and a black T-shirt with the a band logo on it.
“What the—you can’t just snap your fingers like that in public and change clothes!” Diana hissed from the driver’s side of her car. She was staring at him as though he’d grown a second head.
“I can, and I did,” he reminded her smugly. She really needed to get used to his powers. He hadn’t even shown her the cool shit he could do.
“Just don’t do anything during the party. Mom and Dad can’t explain your tricks, and it could cause a lot of trouble.”
“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, and then he got out of the car and focused on the house. “So this is the residence of Janet and Hal. The parents.”
“Yes.” Diana retrieved the groceries from her trunk, trying to juggle the bags. He deftly removed three of the heavy ones, leaving her carrying one sack of buns.
“Thanks.” She stared at the little sidewalk lined with an array of colorful flowers and froze. “What are we going to tell them?”
“Tell them?” He was baffled by the question.
“Yes. I can’t just say, ‘Hey, Dad, here’s Lucien. I made a deal with him to save your life, and now I’m having sex with him. Oh, and did I mention he’s the devil?’”
He bit his bottom lip to hold back a bark of laughter. “That would probably give Hal a heart attack. Tell him I’m a boyfriend. One you met in class.”
“I’ll tell him you’re a friend,” she amended. He could see by the slightly distant look in her eyes that she was already concocting an elaborate story if she needed it.
“Come on.” He nudged her in t
he back to get her moving again. The smells he was picking up from the backyard were quite divine, and he wanted to taste whatever was being cooked.
As they reached the house, a raven-haired beauty in her midfifties met them at the door. Janet, had to be—she looked like a mature version of Diana. He hadn’t focused on her at all when he’d first seen her at the hospital. She had been just another mortal to him, but now he was curious. Okay, more than a little curious to meet the woman who’d brought Diana into the world.
“Diana!” Janet embraced her and looked at Lucien expectantly. He cleared his throat.
“This is Lucien Star, Mom. Lucien, this is my mom, Janet.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Lucien.” Janet held out a hand, and he shook it.
“How do you know Diana?” she asked as he she waved for them to come inside.
“We met in class. He’s a friend.” Diana shot him a pointed look when her mother turned her back on them as she led them to the kitchen.
Lucien licked his lips at her and winked. The crimson blush staining her cheeks was delicious. He had every intention of getting her alone soon because he wanted to show her exactly what pineapples were for.
After they entered the kitchen, he set the bags of groceries down and then watched Diana and her mother prepare everything. They worked well together, moving in tandem to prepare a fruit salad, a plate of meat patties on a tray, and some veggie dip bowls. It was clear Diana and her mother had done this together many times before. They were talking and laughing, sharing open joy as they worked. Something about that familial intimacy made him go very still inside. The rush of voices and images of the goings-on in hell, the mental reports he received every minute, it all faded to the back of his mind like an old radio turned on in a distant room. For the first time in his existence he was lost, lost in Diana and her world, and he liked it far too much. Andras wouldn’t be pleased, but he could stuff it.
I’m the damned devil. If I want to enjoy some vacation time, I can.
“Why don’t you and Lucien go outside and set up the tables with the appetizers,” Janet said, smiling.
“Okay.” Diana hugged her mom and hastily grabbed a veggie tray and shoved it at him. “Take this.”
Lucien gripped the tray and followed her out into the backyard. Several men, including Hal, were grouped around the grill cooking hot dogs. Nearby two picnic tables had been set up with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Several women were drinking tea out of glass Mason jars and laughing as they gossiped. Lucien smirked.
“What are you smiling about?” Diana asked as she leaned in close to him. The soft natural scent of her skin made his body burn with hunger.
“The secrets,” he said.
“Secrets?” Her brows drew together, and he knew he would have to explain.
“I can hear people’s secrets. It’s part of the gig as the king of hell. When people try to hide things, the easier it is for me to see it. It’s almost like I can hear them screaming their secrets loud and clear.”
“What kind of secrets?” she asked, her focus on the guests again.
“You really want to know?” He chuckled. She was human, after all, and curiosity was one of those quirky human habits.
“Well, take that man standing next to your father. The one in the loud red Hawaiian shirt.” He nodded his head toward a slightly overweight man.
“Jerry Gunter.” She nodded. “What about him?”
Lucien’s lips twitched. “He likes to put on his wife’s shoes and dresses when she’s at her girls’ martini nights. Calls himself Mrs. Butterfield.”
“What?” Diana giggled, and her eyes flashed with laughter.
“But he’s a good guy, generally speaking,” Lucien added. “Not anyone I’d pay a call to.”
“What else?” Diana leaned against him, the little blouse she wore billowing in the breeze, and he was able to catch a glimpse of her gorgeous breasts held in a sensible nude-colored bra. Normally he liked women who wore lacy scraps of lingerie, but there was something about the way Diana wore what pleased her, and not men, that fascinated him.
“Lucien?” She nudged him with an elbow.
“Hmm?” He was still half lost in fantasies of tugging those bra cups down and flicking his tongue against her nipples.
“What else can you see?” She waved a pair of salad tongs toward the people in the backyard.
“All right.” He scanned the guests again and then discreetly nodded at a woman in her midforties in a polka-dot black-and-white sundress.
“Mrs. Rafferty,” Diana confirmed. “What about her?”
“She’s cheating on hubby dearest with his best friend.”
“Oh my God,” Diana muttered.
“I wouldn’t worry. Her husband has a nice little stripper with a heart of gold that he keeps living well in Vegas. He’s planning to leave her for the stripper in a few months.”
“No way.” Diana covered her mouth with one hand, shocked.
“Oh yes, it’s going to be quite the fireworks when Mrs. Rafferty finds out about Bethany in Vegas. The cheaters always hate being cheated on.”
“But he’s cheating too—Mr. Rafferty, I mean.”
“He is, but only because wife dearest made him move to the guestroom. He’s a lonely man, and Bethany is really a sweet girl.”
“Wow.” Diana stared at her parents’ neighbors with open astonishment.
Lucien sized up the rest of the guests. “Insider trading, has too many cats, secretly in love with the nanny, stealing office supplies…” He ticked off each remaining guest.
“And me?” Diana asked more quietly, her eyes serious.
“You…” He closed his eyes, letting himself embrace the endless flutter of whispers. Secrets flowed like a dark current beneath a river’s glassy surface.
“Take me, dominate me, let me taste the dark…”
He opened his eyes, and a slow smile stretched his lips. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Your deep dark secret is me.” He kissed the shell of her ear. “You want me in every bad way you always dreamed about.”
Her little gasps were sweet breathless music to his ears.
“Diana, honey, who’s this?” Hal Kingston’s voice interrupted what would’ve been building up to a delicious moment. Lucien had to wipe the glare off his face as he turned to look at Diana’s father. He did not like to be interrupted mid-seduction.
“Dad, this is Lucien. He’s a friend from one of my summer classes,” Diana explained.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kingston.” Lucien held out a hand. Hal removed his grilling mitten and clasped his palm in Lucien’s. For a second, recognition flared in Hal’s eyes. But a moment later it was gone, buried too deep.
“Have we met? You seem familiar.” Hal’s puzzled gaze searched Lucien’s face for answers.
“I’ve got one of those faces,” Lucien said with a chuckle. Diana shot him a worried and confused glance.
“So you’ve got classes with Diana?”
“Yes.” Lucien grinned because Diana stood slightly behind her father and was dragging her fingers over her throat to signal him to be quiet.
“And what do you do, Mr. Kingston?”
“I run an architecture firm. Or I did, until colon cancer got me. But I’m in remission now and looking forward to going back at work.”
“Remission? That’s wonderful news,” Lucien replied, still ignoring Diana’s more frantic attempts to silence him.
“Yeah, I got a second lease on life. So incredibly lucky, you know? I don’t ever want to take anything for granted ever again.”
Lucien usually didn’t like mortals. But there was honesty in Hal’s eyes and voice and an innocence that drew him in the same way it had with Diana.
“I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Kingston,” Lucien said, and surprisingly he meant it.
“Why don’t you kids go and sit by the pool. Hot dogs and burgers will be ready soon.” Hal walked back to the grill.
“Kids?
He dared to call me, the king of hell, a kid?” Lucien growled softly.
“Yes.” Diana chuckled. “To him you look like a kid, or at least someone in your late twenties.”
“It would explode his little mortal brain to know just how old I am.”
“Explode his—no. No exploding, okay? My dad is off-limits, remember?” She shot him a delightfully stern expression that made him want to laugh and then drag her into his arms and kiss her.
And that scared him in a way nothing had except…the fall.
Diana was too dangerous, even to the king of hell.
Diana stood in the kitchen cutting the pineapple Lucien had insisted on serving to the party guests. When she finished, she placed the pineapple rings on a plate and carried them over to the picnic table with the rest of the food. She jumped when someone spoke behind her.
“Diana, you simply have to tell me where you met Mr. Star. He’s charming.” Diana turned to face Mrs. Rafferty. She eyed Lucien the way a butcher would a fine cow—like she planned to devour him.
“Um…school,” she replied slowly.
“School? How young is he? Your age? You’re so young.” Mrs. Rafferty emphasized the word young with open distaste.
“Hmm, he’s older than me.” Not quite a lie. He was older than her.
“I see.” Mrs. Rafferty licked her lips. “I really have to get to know him better.”
A sudden flash of jealousy almost knocked the breath out of Diana.
“He seeing someone,” she added.
Mrs. Rafferty’s eyes narrowed, betraying the saccharine-sweet smile on her lips.
“Oh, honey, I don’t care about that.”
Sure you don’t, Diana thought. You don’t care because you’d climb him like a tree whether he was single or not.
Mrs. Rafferty headed straight for Lucien, and Diana was tempted to intervene, but she forced herself to stay where she was. Mrs. Rafferty leaned into Lucien, placing a hand on his lower belly in an intimate way. Lucien was smiling, but the longer she talked, the more that smile slipped into a frown, then a heavy scowl. He gripped the woman’s wrist and wrenched her hand away from his body, and then he leaned in and whispered something into Mrs. Rafferty’s ear. Whatever he said made the woman’s face turned ashen.
