The Devil is in the Details

by Maya Daniels

  Placing my hand, gun and all, over his to stop him from releasing me, I speak louder, not looking away from him. “Did you hear me, Archangel? I said, ‘I’m not going anywhere with you!’” Heat burns in Eric’s eyes and his fingers tighten around my arm.

  “I don’t think you have an option!” Michael growls and takes a step towards us.

  “Hel, Run!” George’s voice booms from behind me, but I don’t have time to turn around to see him.

  An explosion shakes the ground. Everyone staggers, some dropping to their knees, while those closest to it become air-born, their bodies flung like dolls in the air, landing somewhere behind Michael. Eric doesn’t miss a beat, throwing both of us towards the car and shoving me inside so fast, I have no idea how he managed to even open the door. He is gone before I straighten and he jumps in the driver's seat the next second.

  “Buckle up!” he tells me through clenched teeth as he revs the engine and steps on the gas.

  I ignore his words, already opening the window as fast as the electronic button will allow me. When the Porsche swerves in half a circle, I aim my gun. Michael is already in motion. The blast must have pushed him back since he’s lifting himself off the ground, or he would’ve reached us already. Once standing, he lowers his head like a raging bull, his eyes blazing like liquid silver, and his angelic face twisting in anger. Ignoring all the weapons flying towards us and clenching his fists, he sprints towards the car.

  My hand is steady as I aim. My heartbeat slows down, and everything around me blurs and disappears into shadows. The only thing I can see is the majestic and magnificent Archangel coming full speed towards me, not blinking an eye at the gun I have aimed at his face. Michael’s eyes are locked on mine, and I see his determination. He will never stop hunting me regardless of the fact that I’ve never done anything wrong. In his eyes, I need to be removed. Just like the rest of us in the Order, he doesn’t question his beliefs. I’m not like the rest of them, so like a virus, I need to be eliminated. My finger tightens on the trigger, but my entire being rebels against the very idea of trying to harm him. The jerk knows it too because a malicious smile lifts the corners of his lips. Cold sweat drenches my body from the look on his face.

  Eric reaches over me, grabs my arm, and yanks it inside the car. My finger tightens instinctively, but the bullet goes wide, missing the Archangel a second before his body slams into my side of the vehicle, sending us spinning like some crazy carousel ride. Gripping the door handle, I hold onto it for dear life, but I shouldn’t have worried. Eric has his arm over my chest, securing me to my seat better than any seatbelt. His other hand grips the steering wheel; I’m hoping he doesn’t rip it off. There is a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are amber, making his handsome face so drool-worthy that I forget to be afraid. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss him and remove the frown pulling his eyebrows down. As if sensing my intentions, his eyes jerk to my face. Hunger blazes in them as we stop spinning. The car rocks from side to side before stopping entirely. I open my mouth to say something to Eric, but my door gets ripped off the hinges with a screech that makes me shrink in the leather seat. Michael’s arm reaches for me, trying to grab hold of my jacket, but the next second it disappears.

  “Get out of here!” George screams, and I see it was him tackling Michael, giving me a chance. My chest contracts in gratitude before Eric steps on the gas again, and the Porsche flies into the night, leaving clouds of dust in our wake.

  Most of the drive back, I cling to the leather seat, making sure I don’t fly out the gaping hole where the door used to be. Eric drives so fast I expect Michael to be right behind us, which is not the case. My heart is still in my throat from my inability to pull the trigger when my life was on the line. Worry about George eats a hole in my stomach. Through it all, Eric stays quiet, his eyes flicking from green to amber and back, while he grips the steering wheel as if he’s trying to strangle it.

  I expected us to go to his apartment or even Maddison’s office, so I’m dumbfounded when he turns towards the bad neighborhoods of Atlanta. The tall buildings, cute storefronts, and manicured lawns of the cookie-cutter homes are replaced by run-down buildings with cardboard covered windows, yellow, grass-covered front yards looking more like junkyards, and cars with no wheels propped up on bricks parked on the sides of the road. Slowing down, Eric pulls out a cell phone and types fast without looking. I watch his every move from the corner of my eye, not daring to look away from where we are going. It feels like, if I look away for just a second, we will crash into something.

  Without slowing too much, the Porsche swerves and we are instantly parked between the shell of an old Toyota, and a rusted red pickup truck with a white door. Eric doesn’t speak, so neither do I. Looking warily around, I try to see if we are here to hunt or hide. It does look like an area where abominations have been running rampant for a while.

  “No demons here,” Eric says as if reading my mind. I look at him thoroughly for the first time since we bolted out of that damn parking lot.

  “Why are we here?”

  My words are forgotten when a black SUV comes to a screeching halt next to us. Eric doesn’t wait or explain. He jumps out of the car, comes to my side, and picks me up before I have a chance to voice a protest. The back door of the SUV opens as he takes two strides towards it, cradling me to his chest like I can’t walk on my own. Setting me inside, his arms tighten around me as if he is reluctant to let me go before he straightens and heads to the other side. He slips in the back seat next to me, and the car takes off.

  “Did you call Maddison?” Eric asks the guy driving.

  “She said she will come to your place as soon as she’s done fishing,” a gravelly voice answers but I can’t see the driver because of the panel separating the front and back seats.

  “She’s fishing?” I know it’s absurd, and probably a code for something, but I ask anyway. Eric turns towards me and looks like he can’t figure out if he knows me or not. His chest keeps rising and falling like the adrenaline is still coursing through him, so when he says nothing, I keep my mouth shut too. Looking out the window, I pay attention to where we are headed, noting names of streets. I shouldn’t have bothered, because before I know it, the SUV stops in front of Eric’s building and he jumps out before we fully stop. I scramble after him, and right timing too, because he opens the door trying to reach for me. My feet are already touching the sidewalk when we look at each other from opposite sides of the car. His eyes narrow and my stomach clenches in response.

  Slamming the door, he rounds the car with determined steps. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me with him. He is taller than me, so I have to almost jog to keep up. He has a death grip on my hand, and if I trip, he’ll probably drag me behind him. The security guy behind his corner station smiles politely as he lifts his shiny bald head but ducks it down as soon as he sees Eric’s expression. I can only imagine how we look.

  Luckily, the elevator doors are open, or in his mood Eric would probably have climbed the stairs all the way to the top floor rather than wait. As soon as we are inside, he jams his finger forcefully on the button, and we shoot up to his apartment. He still holds my hand, and I don’t pull it away. After everything, I feel so cold inside that I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again. His warm hand is a beautiful distraction. His thumb glides back and forth on the back of my hand, but we reach the top before I can overthink all the reasons why this is a bad idea.

  When we walk inside, he drops my hand and takes a couple of longer strides to distance himself. My feet slow down and I stop a couple of steps inside the front door. Eric’s shoulders lift and fall like he is fighting for breath, and his hands clench at his sides. Swallowing all my remarks and smart-ass comments, I wait him out. From the first moment I saw him, he has never appeared winded or tired. Even when upset in Maddison’s office, his body didn’t look like granite, coiled up, ready to snap and destroy everything around him. That’s exactly how he looks now. Without mean
ing to, my feet take me to him, and I gently place my hand on his back. He stiffens even more if that were possible. He doesn’t even appear to be breathing now.

  “You okay?” Keeping my voice calm, I move my hand gently from side to side, remembering that Maddison asked how I knew my touch calmed him down. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “He almost took you tonight.” His voice is much deeper and more guttural than usual. Goosebumps cover me from head to toe.

  “But he didn’t.”

  “He didn’t, thanks to that hunter, not thanks to me!” He snarls, turning his head, but he doesn’t look at me, only carries on staring into the distance, giving me a perfect view of his profile.

  “Come on, Eric. George couldn’t have done anything on his own.” My stomach clenches in worry for my friend. “And does it even matter? We got away…which is a lot more than my friend can say.” My voice breaks, and Eric whirls on me.

  “I had to get you away; I couldn’t stop for him.”

  My head lifts so I can keep eye contact with him. He presses so close that my breasts get crushed to his chest. There is guilt in his eyes.

  “Are you sure you are a demon?” I whisper as his handsome face looks down on me.

  “Would you like me if I wasn’t? Would you have trusted me, my word?” His green eyes search mine and guilt pierces my heart at the vulnerability I see.

  “I do like you.” I’m not even sure I spoke out loud until his nostrils flare again as if he is scenting the air. “You can smell it if I don’t tell the truth!” Trying to take a step away from him doesn’t work well. His arms wrap around me, crushing me to his chest.

  “I can.” Eric doesn’t look away, daring me to call him an abomination, even bracing himself for it.

  I surprise us both by saying, “I like you a lot, actually.”

  “But you don’t trust me.”

  “Trust is not given, monster boy. Trust is earned.”

  “I can work with that.” The lustful smile that lifts his lips almost makes my knees buckle.

  We stand, barely inside his apartment with the front door still open, as if suspended in time. He radiates heat, and my bone-deep chill draws me impossibly closer to him. Eric holds me captive with his penetrating gaze, and I’m powerless to look away or move. My heart hammers in my chest; I’m hoping he doesn’t notice. I’m not comfortable knowing he is aware of how his nearness affects me until I feel his heartbeat match mine. Slowly, my gaze shifts from his handsome face to his neck. There, on the side, a vein betrays his calm facade by pulsing wildly; its matched by the throb between my thighs.

  Eric’s nostrils flare again, and I press my thighs closer, horrified at the idea that he can somehow smell my desire. My face heats. Ducking my head, I press my forehead under his chin, hiding like an immature girl. He chuckles, and the vibrations of his deep voice make me shiver involuntarily. I expected him to kiss me by now, but he just keeps staring at me, and I fear that maybe I’m reading him wrong.

  “You’re cold.” Unwrapping his arms from around me, he rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

  He steps away, closing and locking the door before leading me through the large living room. Like the rest of his place, the room is done in all in dark colors. Black leather couches are placed around a white marble coffee table, facing a wall with a theatre-style screen instead of a TV. Abstract paintings of female torsos in shades of red and orange are the only color in the entire place. A wall to floor window covers a whole side, giving me the view of Atlanta. I imagine him sitting here staring at his domain like the king of the world.

  Eric opens the door to his bedroom and pulls me straight towards the bathroom. I don’t protest, curiosity getting the better of me. Earlier in the day, he let me use his guest bathroom to freshen up. I want to see how his personal space differs, so my feet follow him without question. When he flicks on the light, my jaw hits the glossy floor tiles. It’s like stepping through time to a bathing chamber in some ancient temple. The sink looks like it’s been carved from rock with the faucet hidden under what looks like real flowers draping low from the wall above it. An open shower stands in the left corner, with water running from the wall like an indoor fountain. But it’s the built-in pool that can easily fit ten people in it, taking most of the space up, that has me frozen. One side of it ends with a full wall window overlooking the city. All I can do is stare as my feet take me further inside the stunning bathroom.

  “I take it you like the view?”

  Turning around to look at him, my breath catches in my throat.

  He is leaning on one shoulder at the door, arms crossed over his chest. The lighting makes his green eyes sparkle as he watches my reaction, and I can’t help smiling slightly at him. His five ‘o’clock shadow makes him more roguishly handsome. His hair still falls all over his face where it escapes the band he has it tied back in.

  “That’s the understatement of the year. Its breathtaking”

  He chuckles and pushes off the door walking towards me. “I can’t say that I agree.” Stopping in front of me, he tugs on my jacket. I let him remove it.

  “You don’t think this view is priceless and breathtaking?” Both my eyebrows go up as I look at him like I’m evaluating his sanity. Throwing his head back, he laughs, and I gape at him like a dumbstruck, lovesick fool.

  “I didn’t say it’s not good,” he says when he stops laughing. “I’m just saying I have a view of something else that takes my breath away.” Taking hold of my t-shirt, he slowly pulls it up, as if expecting me to protest. I’m beyond the point of no return, so I lift my arms up.

  “Cheesy, monster boy.” I roll my eyes, pretending I’m offended, and he chuckles again. I love that sound.

  “Truth, cupcake.” He winks and grins when I glare at him for his use of that nickname.

  “Okay, fine! I won’t call you monster boy anymore. Just stop using that horrible nickname.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He chuckles, and ducks out of the way when I swipe at him.

  Catching my outstretched arm, he pulls me to him and grabs my hips to hold me there. This whole game of tug-o-war is fraying my nerves, so as soon the skin of his arms connects with my bared skin, I reach up and bury my hands in his hair. His eyes widen before I pull his head down and kiss him like I have never kissed anyone in my life. He stiffens when my lips touch his for a split second. I almost pull away, but he recovers quickly, and his tongue invades my mouth without hesitation.

  Eric devours my mouth with deep grunts of satisfaction echoing and bouncing off the bathroom tiles. My moans join him a moment later, while he walks me backward until I feel the rock sink press against the back of my thighs. His hands glide over my ass and grip me just below it as he lifts me up and places me on the stone.

  Leaving my mouth, he trails kisses, licking, sucking, and biting gently on my neck and shoulder before his hand takes hold of my red, lacy bra. He pulls the cup down until my breast pops free. His lips latch onto my nipple, lashing it with his tongue, while he pinches my other nipple through the lace. Bracing one hand on the rock beneath me for the sake of my sanity, I grab a fistful of Eric’s hair, holding him to me as if he is trying to escape. He lifts his head and kisses me roughly again as he wedges his hips between my legs and grinds his erection on my throbbing core. Both of us moan, long and loud. We both fumble with belts and zippers before I push his leather pants low on his hips. His rock-hard cock pulses in my hand. Eric shoves his hand none too gently inside my panties, and groans when his fingers get drenched. Our hips slowly gyrate in sync as we use the same air to breathe and chase the tightening band inside both of us to a snapping point. He pulls his lips away, breathing hard, clenching his jaw as he stares intently at my face.

  “I need you to cum for me now, Hel. Do it so I can fuck you until you pass out on me.” My heart beats faster at his rough words and the hunger in his eyes. His fingers keep up the fast tempo of pumping into me, first two, then a thi
rd. The heel of his palm grinds on my button, sending tiny electric shocks through my body.

  “No!” Grinding my teeth, I cling onto this feeling that I don’t want to end. Eric grins devilishly at me before he twists his hand and his thumb presses just right on my clit. I explode.

  My muscles clamp around his fingers, holding him there and trying to suck him deeper inside with each pulsing tremor. My whole body shakes like I’ve received an electric shock while he holds me to him, making as much noise as I am, as if my orgasm feels as good to him as it does to me. Lights flash behind my closed eyelids, and I shamelessly scream his name. When I finally calm down, Eric buries his face in my hair, hugging me tightly as he whispers my name. His fingers are still inside me, so I reach for his cock again, but the blaring song of his cell phone makes us both groan. Eric fishes it out of his pocket, lifting it to his ear.

  “Yes!” he snaps at whoever is on the other side. “Okay!” Putting his phone in his pocket, he scrubs that hand over his face. “Maddison is here.”

  “What?” I screech scrambling to push him away and dress. “She heard everything?” I look at him, mortified when he doesn’t move away.

  “She’s downstairs, coming up now.” He chuckles as he reluctantly pulls his fingers out of me, making me moan. “And don’t worry, Hel. We are going to finish this later.” With those words, he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean before winking and sauntering out of the bathroom with his pants barely hanging on his hips. All I can do is stare after him while my insides pulse with a desire to call him back and make him keep his promise.

  Maddison is sitting primly on one of the leather couches in the living room by the time I shower and calm myself down from the whirlwind of emotions Eric stirred. I was grateful to find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt waiting for me when I exited the bathroom. I had to roll the legs up a few times, and the t-shirt is almost mid-thigh, but they are clean, and I feel like a newborn. As soon as I step into the living room, their conversation stops. My eyes narrow.