Personal Demons

by Lisa Desrochers

  But when I feel Luc’s hand ease around my waist, my mind goes blank and my heart starts to careen to redline.

  “So, to answer your question, Riley: I’m serious,” he says, and my redlining heart stops.

  “I guess you’ll be driving her home,” Riley says.

  “If that’s okay with you.”

  I pull my face out of my hands. “What the hell? I don’t get a say?”

  Luc lifts an eyebrow and a smile plays around those lips. I shudder, remembering how good they felt moving on mine. “So … ?”

  I breathe against the flutter in my chest, hating that he knows how much I want him. I open my mouth to say no. “All right … I guess.”

  Riley pushes her chair back and slings her purse over her shoulder, then grabs Taylor, whose expression has softened. “Let’s go.”

  Taylor pulls herself out of her chair and smiles—a genuine smile that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen on her face before. But after a second, the smile takes on her signature lascivious edge. She rubs her hands together then raises them up near her shoulders, as if surrendering. “I’m out.” She cocks half a smile at me and turns for the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  What the hell? Taylor backing off? I must be dreaming.

  “In other words,” Riley says, nudging my shoulder, “anything goes.” She drops a huge tip onto the table on her way to the door, trying once again to get on our waitress’s good side.

  I drop my face back into my hands, too embarrassed to look at Luc now that we’re alone.

  He leans his shoulder into mine. “Hey.”

  I don’t lift my face out of my hands. “Sorry about that,” I mumble into my palms.

  “I think it’s charming that Riley’s looking out for you.”

  My head snaps up and my cheeks burn. “Charming? Try mortifying.”

  He smiles his wicked smile and nearly stops my heart. And when he leans in to kiss me, I’m pretty sure it does.

  I can’t stop my hand from reaching for his face. I feel him shiver in answer and he locks gazes with me. “Let’s get out of here,” he says into my lips.

  An achy tingle spreads through me and I smile a shaky smile. “I know just the place.”

  LUC

  This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And that’s saying something. Of course, that probably has more to do with Frannie than anything else. She seems to have that effect on me—makes everything feel new.

  “You have to close your eyes,” she says. “It’s such a rush. You ready?”

  “Yep.”

  In the heavy night air, so full of the scents of the forest, the only sounds are the harmonies of croaking frogs and chirping crickets—and Frannie’s laughter, which is like a music all its own.

  “Okay,” she says softly, leaning in for a kiss. My lips just touch hers when the gleam in her eye turns impish and she lets go of the rope.

  I close my eyes as I swing out over the water, feeling the cool wind in my face and through my hair. I feel like I’m floating through the darkness, and she’s right, it is a rush. Almost the same as being summoned by King Lucifer—the rush of being yanked through time and space. Except without the smell of brimstone and the dread in the pit of my stomach. I feel a tingle course through my entire body. When I glide through the air back to the shore, I step off of the rope swing onto the rocky edge of the quarry next to Frannie. She laughs again. Her face shines in the pale, silver moonlight, and I feel that same tingle.

  She smiles up at me. “So … ? Pretty cool, huh?” She presses into me and pulls me into a kiss, setting me on fire with the touch of her lips. Mmm … clove and currant on my tongue. Her soul right here for the taking.

  The sickle moon is low in the sky, creating shimmering shadows through the trees and casting a faint sheen on the water in the dark quarry. But that sheen isn’t enough to conceal the thousands of faceted jewels reflecting off the still surface of the water. I’ve never seen such a clear night with so many stars. The real show, though, is the cosmos shining in Frannie’s eyes.

  “Okay, my turn,” she says, pushing me aside and grabbing the rope. I hold it steady as she steps onto the wooden disc knotted at the bottom.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “Go,” she laughs and I let go of the rope.

  I watch as she swings away from me, a silhouette against the shimmering water. The end of the rope drags over the surface, creating a ripple and setting the reflected stars in motion. Listening to her whoop and the ring of her laughter, I feel my own laughter bubble up from somewhere deep inside me and erupt. It sounds foreign to me. Happy.

  But then she screams, “Oh, shit!” There’s a splash followed by a larger ripple.

  My laughter chokes off. “Frannie!” I yell, diving in after her. As I break the surface and listen for her, I swear I hear a rough and sultry chuckle from the edge of the quarry that fades into the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. “Frannie!” I yell again. No answer. Fighting panic, I swim to the spot that the rope reaches at full swing and dive under. I draw on my power and my hand illuminates the murky water around me in a red glow as I swim slowly back toward the rocks. Just before I reach the edge, a hand flails up from the dark depths. I reach for it, pulling her to the surface. Frannie comes up coughing and gasping for air.

  “Something … grabbed … me,” she gasps, her teeth chattering so hard I can barely understand her.

  Relief washes over me as I loop an arm around her and pull her back to the edge of the quarry. I push her in front of me as we scramble up the slippery rocks and out of the icy water.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh. Just … freezing,” she chatters back, still gasping for air.

  I can already see the steam rising off my wet clothes as we stand in the cool night air, so I wrap my body around hers and pull her hair back, wringing it out behind her. I hold her as my body absorbs her violent shivers, and after a few moments I see the steam start to rise off her as well.

  “Mmm …” she moans. “God, you’re so hot.”

  I smile. God has nothing to do with it.

  “It felt like something grabbed my leg,” she finally says as her shaking starts to ease.

  “Probably got your foot caught on a tree root.”

  “I guess … but it didn’t feel like it.”

  I hold her as her shaking slows, and we start to sway in rhythm to the chirping crickets. As the moon arcs high over the quarry, over us, I’m completely lost in her. Nothing has ever felt so right—but also so wrong. We dance and there’s only the music, her and me. No game plan.

  FRANNIE

  Even though my clothes and hair are mostly dry, I spend the whole ride back to my house trying to figure out how I’m gonna explain showing up with Luc, looking like this, to my parents. When the house comes into view, I still have no clue.

  I’m also trying to wrap my mind around Luc—or really, how Luc makes me feel. It’s completely different than how I feel with Gabe, but no less scary. Just scary in a completely different way. With Gabe, the feeling is strong and deep. With Luc, it’s wild and out of control. I don’t trust Luc. How could I? But I also don’t want this feeling to stop.

  He pulls into my driveway and cuts the engine. I sit, wishing I could just stay right here forever.

  “So …” he says.

  “So …” I say back. And then he reaches for me, sweeping back my hair, and leans in to kiss me. I feel myself turn to Jell-O as his lips move on mine. I have to remind myself to breathe. After a really long time, but not nearly long enough, he pulls back.

  “I guess I should walk you to the door.”

  I pull my wild hair behind my neck and tie it in a knot. “Oh … that may not be such a great idea.”

  He smiles. “Like they aren’t looking out the window right now. They know you’re with me.”

  I glance at the house and see the curtains sway from where they were just dropped. The front door flies open, and Mom is standing there
in her blue June Cleaver dress and heels, arms folded over her chest and eyes wide.

  “And she also knows you just kissed me,” he says, his smile stretching into that wicked grin.

  Crap. Crap. “Crap.”

  Luc chuckles then slides out of the car and comes around to open my door. Nice touch. He takes my hand and helps me out of the car. He doesn’t let go as we move up my front walk; I love the feel of his hand burning into mine. It’s everything I can do not to drag him back to his car and tell him to drive me somewhere we can be alone.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Cavanaugh.”

  “Hello,” she says curtly—which, for my mother, is like cursing him out. Then her eyes shift to me and, even in the dim porch light, I’m sure I look a disaster. “What happened?” Her eyes dart suspiciously back to Luc.

  I bite back the hysterical laughter that threatens as I think about saying, Luc ravaged me in his backseat. Which, now that I think of it, was what happened in my dream last night. But instead, I swallow my pride and tell the truth. “I fell in the quarry. Luc saved me.” As much as I hate to admit the whole damsel in distress thing, maybe it will earn him a brownie point or two.

  “What were you doing out there? That quarry is dangerous,” she says, outright glowering at Luc now. “You need a warm shower.” She pulls me through the door and slams it in Luc’s face.

  “It was my fault, Mom. Luc jumped in after me. Really.”

  She drags me up the stairs. “Thank God you’re okay. I told you not to spend time with him, Frannie. We thought you were with Taylor and Riley tonight.”

  “Mom, I don’t know what happened to make you like this about him, but he’s not a bad person. Really.”

  “We’ll discuss your consequences later,” she says, pushing me into the bathroom at the top of the stairs. “Just get cleaned up.”

  “My consequences? Like, punishment?”

  She eyes me thoughtfully, like she’s just now realizing she should have had the birds and bees talk with me a long time ago. “We’ll talk later,” she says and closes the door. Great.

  I wait to hear the creak of the bottom stair before I pull the door open and run down the hall into my room. I rush to the window and throw it open.

  Luc’s car is in the driveway, door open, but Luc is nowhere.

  “Luc!” I say, my voice a harsh whisper.

  “Hey.” His voice comes from under my window.

  I press my face against the screen and look down just as he walks out from under my window, toward the driveway. “Hey. Sorry about that. My mom’s just stressin’ a little.”

  “No problem,” he says, looking up at me but also into the oak branches just outside my window.

  I smile. “You thinking about climbing that tree?”

  He glares up into the tree for just a second and then smiles at me. “If I did, would you let me in?”

  I feel my cheeks flush. “Not tonight. I think we’ve given Mom all she can handle for now.”

  “You’re sure?”

  No. “Yes.”

  He looks only a little disappointed when he says, “Okay. Do me a favor, then. Does your window have a latch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Close it and latch it, okay?”

  I crack a grin. “Why? You can’t be trusted?”

  “No, I can’t. But it’s not me I’m worried about at the moment. Just do it. Now, okay?” The urgency in his voice scares me a little.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just do it. Please,” he nearly barks.

  “If you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Oh, for the sin of Satan …” he starts, exasperated, then glares up at me. “Please, Frannie.”

  I glare back. “Whatever,” I say and slam my window shut.

  He just stands there for a minute, looking up at me until I realize he’s waiting for me to latch it. I do, grudgingly, and he slides into the Mustang. He backs out of the driveway into the road and I watch till his taillights are lost behind the trees. Leave it to him to ruin my perfect night by turning into a jerk.

  But just before I drop the curtain, I look out into the dark, at the tree outside my window.

  My breath catches as I stumble back from the window.

  And I tell myself the pair of red eyes floating in the branches is just a cat.

  A second later, the door cracks open and Kate’s head pokes through. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” But the shake in my voice betrays my unease.

  “What happened?”

  “When?”

  “Just now. You screamed.”

  “I did?” I say, thinking of those disembodied eyes and shuddering.

  She pushes through the door and closes it behind her. “Yeah, you did. So, you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Something surprised me.”

  “All right.” She turns for the door.

  “Wait!” I yell, glancing back at the window. I’m a little creeped out, and I don’t want her to leave just yet.

  “What?” she says, turning back.

  And suddenly I feel a little awkward. “So … what’s up?”

  She just stares at me. “Are you sure you’re okay? ’Cause you’re kind of losing it.”

  “I’m fine. I just thought we could … you know … talk, I guess.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns for the door again, and suddenly I think of something I really do want to ask her.

  “Kate …”

  She barely glances over her shoulder as she reaches for the doorknob. “What?”

  “When you and Chase … you know. When you first …”

  She spins toward me, annoyed. “What, Frannie?”

  “Had sex … when you first had sex. How did you know you were ready?”

  Her expression softens and she smiles wistfully. “You just know.” But then concern brushes her face. “Don’t let anyone pressure you, Frannie. If any part of you is saying no, then it’s a no.”

  But what if all the parts of me are saying yes? I think about Luc, and, even though I’m pissed at him, a tingle starts low in my belly. “Thanks, Kate.”

  She still looks concerned as she turns for the door again. She closes it behind her and I stand staring at the window for a long time. Finally, I pull out Matt’s journal. I climb on my bed, trying to sort my thoughts, then start to write.

  So, Matt … there’s stuff going on inside me that I don’t even have words for, so sorry. But it’s kind of scary, feeling like this. Out of control.

  I stare blindly at the wall, my insides churning.

  Luc … it’s like he’s some kind of drug. I can’t get enough of him. And if this is how drugs make people feel, then I can see why they get addicted.

  I feel a thread of fear wrap around my heart, and I lift my head from the journal and rub my eyes, pushing Luc’s face out of my mind.

  I don’t want to need anybody like that. I’m not going to let myself get addicted to Luc.

  I close Matt’s journal and sit staring at the wall as everything becomes crystal clear in my head. I can want him physically without needing him. It’s called lust. No emotional attachment necessary. And that’s what this is—just physical. I’m sure of it.

  Gabe, though …

  As my thoughts shift to him, the tingle in my belly turns into an ache in my chest. ’Cause I’m starting to think whatever I’m feeling for him is deeper than lust and a lot more dangerous.

  I was wrong before. Luc is definitely the safer choice. I know what I’m getting, and it won’t ever turn into something I can’t handle.

  LUC

  Belias. This is bad. Why would Beherit send Belias? Why would he send anybody? I haven’t been checked up on in four thousand years. There’s no doubt that was him outside Frannie’s window, though.

  I drive slowly and watch to see if he follows. When he doesn’t, I realize it’s worse than bad. He’s not just checking up on me. He’s after Frannie. Swallowing my panic, I circle back, coast up within a few houses,
and sit for a second, assessing the situation.

  Belias is in Collections. Why would Beherit send Collections? Frannie’s to be tagged only. Unless things have changed. And if Belias tags her, her soul will be bound to him. She’ll be his. Something primal flares in me—something deep and territorial. He can’t have her. She’s mine. Suddenly I’m grateful that Mr. Cavanaugh is in tight with the Almighty. If I, a First Level demon, can’t phase into the house, neither can Belias.

  I step out of the car and phase across the street. How is this going to work? He isn’t going to come with me just because I ask. I creep up under the tree, duck behind the trunk, and call out to him with my mind. Belias! I know he can hear me, just like I can hear him. Our nefarious psychic connection binds us, whether I like it or not.

  The faintest rustling, no more than a squirrel would make moving through the branches, and Belias is standing beside me. His shaggy black hair partially obscures his glowing red eyes, which illuminate a two-foot radius nonetheless, his sharp cheekbones casting shadows across his face. He grins at me. “Lucifer. It’s been far too long.”

  “What are you talking about? I just saw you a few weeks ago.”

  “Yes, and the boss says you’re taking far too long. Those are his exact words.”

  “It’s only been two weeks. I wasn’t aware there was a time limit,” I lie.

  “Well, there is. In case you haven’t noticed, Gabriel is here. If you wait too long, it will be too late.”

  “You can run along and tell Beherit I have things under control, thank you.”

  “Mmm … yes, it looked that way at the quarry. Very sweet, Lucifer. Though how you could be that close and not take her—her flesh, I mean—I’ll never understand.”

  How did I not sense him there? I’m letting myself get too distracted. And, as the weight of his words hits me, I feel a stab of pure rage slice through me like a razor.

  It was Belias.

  My fists clench by my sides, and I glare death at him. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with Frannie’s little mishap, then? Because drowning her doesn’t seem like the most prudent strategy before she’s tagged. Frannie’s soul in Limbo would not bode well for us.”

  A malevolent grin stretches across his face and his eyes flare. “But, see, there’s the problem, Lucifer. She shouldn’t still be untagged. You had the perfect opportunity to take her flesh—the first step to claiming her soul. She was serving herself up. Even you couldn’t miss her ginger. But you chose to play the gallant suitor instead of getting the job done. You’re losing your touch. A fact that hasn’t escaped Beherit.”