The Devil's Angel (Devil Series Book 2)

by Rachel McClellan

  “I never joke,” Eve said, giving a kind smile.

  “Neither do I. Now get lost!” In one fluid motion, the man leapt to the top of the rail, balancing precariously along its four-inch top.

  Charlie positioned himself behind Eve, taking slow and deliberate steps toward her. Lucien also crept forward, mindful to stay out of view.

  “Come on down,” Eve’s gentle voice said. “Surely things can’t be that bad?”

  “Lady, you have no idea.”

  Behind Eve, Charlie soothed, “Why don’t you get down and you can tell us about it? We all have problems. We’ll understand.”

  The man snorted. “No one knows real problems until they’ve lost three million dollars. And I bet you’ve never seen that kind of money, have you?”

  Eve took another step toward him. “We just want to help.”

  The man pointed at her. “Don’t come near me unless you want to end up dead, too.”

  Something about the crazy man’s voice made Lucien forget about trying to stay hidden. He moved toward Eve, pushing through the growing crowd.

  Charlie tried to stop Eve’s progression, but she had already moved out of his reach and was almost to the man.

  “Come on, man. Get down,” Charlie pleaded.

  “Take my hand,” Eve said, reaching out so close she could almost touch him. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”

  The man grinned at her, a thin sadistic smile, then his hand snapped out and latched on to hers. With one hard jerk, he threw Eve over the ledge and then attempted to jump himself.

  Lucien didn’t hesitate. He raced at the rail and leapt over it, falling at Eve faster than gravity. He reached out and grabbed onto the back of her shirt before spinning her around and pulling her to his chest. Then, twisting his body, he rolled over midair so that his back was facing the water in hopes he would cushion the blow when they smashed against the water’s glass-like surface.

  Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before his back hit the water with such force that he was knocked unconscious. When he came to moments later, both their bodies were sinking into the murky water. The water suspended Eve in a slow moving, sitting chair position. Her long hair swirled around her face like spider silk, blowing in the wind. Through the tendrils, Lucien noticed the corners of her mouth were turned up slightly. He watched her for just a brief moment, preferring this dark, murky world to the one above. She was so beautiful.

  Lucien clenched his jaw and swam to Eve who was still unconscious. Very carefully, in case she had any internal injuries, he hooked one arm around her chest and headed to the surface, kicking hard. As soon as he broke free from the watery depths, he pulled Eve to his chest and swam backward toward shore.

  On the bridge above him, several people were helping to pull the suicidal man back onto the road. Charlie must’ve caught him in time. He should’ve let him fall.

  In the distance, Charlie was calling Eve’s name. He was closing in quick.

  When Lucien’s feet touched bottom, he carried Eve the rest of the way to shore and gently laid her down. He didn’t mean to, not really anyway, but as he was pulling away, his fingers caressed the skin on her arm. A powerful sensation, like being filled with warm water, washed over him, heating his insides. Lucien startled at the phenomenon.

  “Eve!” Charlie’s voice yelled. He was running across the rocky shore toward them, sweat dotting his forehead.

  Lucien knew Charlie could see him, but Charlie didn’t know who he was. Better leave now before he asked questions. As hard as it was, Lucien straightened and disappeared.

  8

  Lucien waited until nightfall before he returned to his second “home” high in the oak tree across from Eve’s house. Charlie’s car was parked out front. The two were talking about Sarah’s death. Apparently she was the secretary at the Deific office in New York and a close friend of both of theirs.

  Lucien listened to the conversation for a few minutes before he had to stop. For some reason, he found it difficult to hear Eve speak so openly with Charlie. The two were obviously close in a way Lucien never would be.

  Every few minutes, he would eavesdrop again to see if they would mention the incident at the bridge. Eve had nearly died after all, but nothing was said. How was that not a bigger deal?

  Lucien leaned back against the tree and thought back to the sensation he had experienced when he’d touched Eve, how warm he had become. There was something familiar about it, and the more Lucien thought about it, the more he convinced himself that he did know Eve, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where.

  Eve’s front door opened. Charlie stood next to her in the doorway, his hand resting on her arm.

  “Despite the bad day,” Charlie said, “progress was made. You’re happy about that, right?”

  Eve stared into the night, looking anything but happy. “He still has some serious walls. I saw it in his eyes.”

  Who is she talking about? Maybe something else had happened after Lucien left her at the bridge. Whatever it was, she seemed even more upset.

  Before Charlie left, he wrapped his arms around Eve and gave her a long hug that made Lucien squirm.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Charlie said when he released her.

  Eve nodded but still looked pained.

  Shortly after Charlie drove away, Eve escaped outside and climbed to the roof from her back porch railing. She didn’t lie down like last time. Instead, she cradled her knees to her chest and her whole body shook as she quietly cried.

  Lucien hated seeing her so upset, and it hurt him more than he could express or understand. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her, but he couldn’t get his body to move from the tree. Somehow he felt he had caused the pain, but that was impossible.

  When Eve had exhausted herself, she lifted her head to the moonless sky and inhaled a shaky breath. She wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks and rolled her shoulders back as if she’d found an inner source of strength. Her eyes closed briefly, but when they opened, her gaze focused in Lucien’s direction, eying the tree that concealed him. Lucien sucked up closer to the tree’s trunk, but a moment later, she turned away and climbed off the roof.

  Finally he could move. And he moved fast. Emotions he never thought he’d feel again cracked something deep inside him, and what oozed from the crevices was frightening. What was he thinking, allowing himself to grow close to a woman he barely knew?

  Lucien drove back to the hotel angry and bitter, and he didn’t leave his suite the whole next day. He wanted to prove to himself that he could stay away from Eve, but that one empty day lasted longer than the last ten thousand. The walls of the hotel room seemed to have grown smaller, and he paced the floor feeling more animal than vampire.

  By 5:00 a.m. the following morning, he drove straight to Eve’s house. He didn’t even bother parking blocks away. Instead, he parked directly in front of her house, surprising even himself. It was time to face her, to once and for all strip the air of mystery surrounding her. Then maybe his life could return to normal.

  When the car came to a stop, Lucien knew she wasn’t there. There were no sounds coming from within the home, and there was something on her porch. He got out of the car and stepped closer to get a better look.

  A blue piece of paper was taped to her door. He squinted, then stumbled when he read the first word: Lucien.

  His hands dropped to the hood of his car. How did she know my name? Impossible!

  Whatever emotions he had been feeling were replaced by anger. He walked to the porch and ripped off the note.

  Lucien,

  I will be gone for five days. I’m sure you have lots of questions. Please meet me for dinner when I return at 8:00 pm.

  Sincerely, Eve

  Lucien dropped into the porch chair, unable to move until well after the sun sank below the horizon. His mind was full of all kind of thoughts, but none of them made sense.

  Had she known I was following her all of this time? She must’v
e.

  Games were being played, and he was the pawn.

  He stood up and paced back and forth, opening and closing his hands tightly. His jaw muscles bulged, then he slammed his fist through the side of the house, leaving a gaping hole of twisted metal siding and splintered wood. This was over.

  For the first time in weeks, he walked away and didn’t look back.

  9

  It was easy for Lucien to avoid thinking about Eve. For the first few days anyway, then it was all he could think about. Anger consumed him, and he needed to find a way to release it before he hurt someone.

  Lucien knew of a place, an underground party house on the outside of town. And it wasn’t a bar humans were aware of, at least not the good ones. He avoided it whenever possible, but after days of pent-up rage, he craved the darkness it held within its walls.

  From the outside, the home looked like a regular farmhouse. A place a good family would live in. It was white with blue trimmed windows. The lawn was cut short, and a white picket fence bordered the front yard.

  He’d come across this place by accident after following a man named Jax a few years ago, thanks to an address John had given him. At first Lucien had every intention of killing Jax on sight, but there was something odd about him.

  Jax was well dressed and drove a nice car, but he moved unnaturally as if a babe learning to walk. His movements were methodical, even the simple ones like opening a car door. He did everything in steps.

  Step one: Look at door.

  Step two: Reach for door.

  Step three: Open door.

  Step four: Get inside car.

  Step five: Close door.

  It was as if he was incapable of moving smoothly, and it was unsettling to watch. But what was even more unsettling was the fact that the man’s heartbeat was sporadic. It would beat fast for several seconds and then stop for minutes. A moment later, it would pick right back up again in its unusual pattern.

  When Jax had disappeared into the nice, yet simple home all those years ago, Lucien was hesitant to follow. There were sounds coming from within that didn’t make sense. There were heartbeats, lots of them, but not a single one beat regularly. He couldn’t even detect a regular breathing pattern. There also weren’t any lights on, not even the occasional flashing of one.

  Eventually, curiosity got the best of Lucien, and he slipped inside. The entry way was neat but dusty. An old curio, looked early 19th century, was pressed against the wall. It too was covered in dust. To his right was a living room. Pale couches, an old piano, a Queen Anne chair. None of it had been used in a long time.

  The only evidence of people was a worn walking path through the dust on the floor. Lucien followed it to a narrow entry leading to the basement. The smell wafting up was a mixture of alcohol and road kill.

  Something had felt very wrong about the basement, but he went anyway because Jax’s name had been given to him. One way or another, Jax had to die.

  Lucien descended the steps, the temperature dropping dramatically. The walls around him were built with gray cinderblocks that contained more spiders than he dared count. At the bottom of the stairs, the basement opened up significantly. The back half of the room had been dug out and around supporting columns, making the room almost four times the size of the house above. A string of red lights hung from one end of the room to the other, giving the space an eerie crimson glow.

  There were at least thirty men and women all of whom were either drinking, smoking, or shooting-up. They moved as strangely as Jax had, in calculated, almost jerky movements. Toward the back of the room, the people’s appearance began to change. Their skin was whitish in color and several of them were in the process of losing their hair, if they hadn’t already. They wore very little clothing upon their bodies, which no longer looked quite human. They looked like—Lucien shook his head.

  Impossible.

  Someone tugged on his shoulder from behind. Lucien turned around.

  “Your kind is not welcome here,” said a man several inches shorter than Lucien. Most of his hair had fallen out, and he was incredibly pale, even his eyes looked white with only small black pupils.

  “What is this place?” Lucien asked.

  “This is our place to experience all that humans do.”

  Lucien glanced around again, trying to make sense of it all. A woman tied a rubber tube around her arm. She grinned at Lucien, the glint in her eyes reflected her true nature. It was wild and carnal, seeking only the pleasure the human body could give.

  Lucien backed against the wall. These things, these creatures, were diablos: evil spirits who’d been invited into human bodies.

  He shook his head in disgust. Humans could be so stupid and naive. Every once in a while, there would be one who desired more than they’d been given: more talents, more money, more everything. They want the best life has to offer for free. And because of their idolatrous attitude, they seek out evil, unknowingly or purposefully, believing only darkness can give them what they want. The ultimate reality, however, is that evil gives nothing without a price.

  Once a human invites the evil spirit into its body, it takes over gradually, destroying every part of their humanity. The spirit, excited by its new form, will live out every human experience as quickly as possible for it knows that in just a short matter of time, its presence will change the human’s outside appearance until all traces of the human disappears. The end result is a diablo, a creature incapable of feeling any kind of pleasure or pain.

  “Time to go,” the short man said, stepping toward him. Behind him, two fully changed diablos jerked toward him.

  Lucien inched toward the bottom of the steps while scanning the room for his target. He found Jax not far away, inhaling a joint. Lucien reached behind his back and withdrew a dagger.

  Three more diablos joined the others in their slow pursuit. When Lucien reached the bottom step, he tossed the dagger with such a force that all but the tip of the handle disappeared into the side of Jax’s head. The man fell to his knees; grayish, blood-tinged ooze leaked from the wound.

  A diablo with patchy white hair snagged Lucien’s arm, but Lucien shoved him away. He turned to go up the stairs, but two other diablos pulled him back. Others soon joined in, tugging him in different directions as if they might tear him apart. There was no organization, no communication between them, only chaos. One bit his leg—the teeth were sharp and sunk to his calf. He would’ve kicked it away, but he was too busy fighting two others who were trying to gouge his eyes out with long human-like claws.

  The diablos weren’t strong, but their numbers made their strength ferocious. Lucien rolled over, causing several of them to lose their grip. He stood, kicking a few more as they circled him. Before their circle was complete, he darted for the stairs and disappeared.

  ***

  That night, so many years ago, he hadn’t been prepared for battle. Tonight, however, he would destroy them all.

  10

  Lucien charged down the steps—a dagger in one hand, another in his boot, and a pistol behind his back. When he reached the bottom, at least two dozen diablos turned to look at him. One by one, they all stood.

  “Go back to hell,” Lucien growled.

  He tossed the dagger first, almost severing a diablo’s head. He whipped the gun from behind his back and pulled the trigger again and again. Bullets tore through flesh, spraying the walls with blood and shards of bone. Bodies of the undead collapsed into each other, blood oozing in rivers across pale white skin.

  Lucien managed to squeeze off another round of bullets before he was finally attacked. A fully changed diablo shoved Lucien hard, making him stumble to the ground. A nearby, partially changed diablo scrambled up his feet. Lucien kicked it hard in the face with the heel of his boot; the bones in the creatures face collapsed under the force.

  From behind him, cold damp hands gripped the underside of his jaw and pulled up as if attempting to rip off his head. Lucien grunted, flexing his jaw muscles tight,
then stretched up and found the skull of the beast. Digging his fingers into its balding scalp, Lucien twisted hard until its neck bones made a series of pops. The creature fell limp, nearly collapsing on top of him.

  All of a sudden, Lucien’s legs were jerked forward by two diablos, each one gripping his ankle tightly. They were dragging him quickly toward the back of the room where there was nothing but darkness. Lucien clawed at the concrete ground, trying to stop their momentum, but when that didn’t work, he leaned up and slipped the other dagger from his boot.

  With lightning-quick movement, he sliced off one of the hands around his foot. It fell to Lucien’s side, the fingers writhing like a worm cut in half. With his right leg now free, he kicked at the arm at the other diablo, snapping it in two.

  Lucien jumped to his feet just as something hard smashed against his head, temporarily stunning him. With stars in his eyes, he turned around to face his attacker. A diablo held a two-by-four in both hands. He swung at Lucien’s head again.

  Lucien raised his arm and stopped the board inches from striking his face. With his other hand, he tightened his fist and smashed it against the monster. The diablo barely flinched. When that didn’t work, Lucien kicked him hard in the gut with more effective results. The diablo stumbled back and dropped the board.

  As Lucien reached for it, he noticed a glimmer of silver at the top—a bent over nail. In one swift movement, he straightened it, and then in an upswing, smashed the board into the side of the diablo’s head. The creature’s limp body crashed into the wall behind him, shattering several of the cinder blocks. The noise excited a primal instinct within Lucien, and he grinned wildly.

  Air poured into Lucien’s lungs, filling him with newfound energy. He sprinted around the room, using his bare hands to kill as many as he could. The feel of their bones breaking beneath Lucien’s fingers reminded him of his own evil tendencies. He was no different from them. Demons from hell.