by Holly Hunt
I looked through my pockets. I never used a handbag, keeping all my things in my pockets, where they couldn't be stolen easily. I pulled my keys from my left pocket, amazed I hadn't stabbed myself in the hip with them in my sleep. "Yeah, I've still got them."
He smiled, gesturing me closer.
"Don't you need to sleep?" I asked.
"I could still fly to Australia and back before I fall asleep in the air. Flying, for me, is like walking for you. Bare minimum of thought, no effort," he said with a cocky grin. I was still slightly hesitant, but he took his shirt off. Without waiting for me to say yes, he stepped up close to me and swung me up in his arms.
"I'm starting to think you like carrying me around," I complained lightly, my arm around his neck as I watched over his shoulder. I was fascinated by his wings emerging from his back.
I felt Lucifer's chest vibrate as he laughed, stepping up to the very edge of the wood. "I don't mind it," he said, and his tail whipped around, balancing him. "It's not like you're heavy. Where do you live?"
I gave him my address and made the mistake of glancing down. Lucifer was standing on the edge of his deck, balancing on his toes. I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes and burying my face in his neck. He laughed again, moving so that my brown hair suddenly flapped in my face, obscuring my view.
I felt the wind whip by us and heard the crack of his wings. He had thrown us out into the air, and we were flying over the country-like landscape he owned, heading for the city a few miles away.
I got the feeling that flying with me in his arms was no effort at all to him. I pulled myself tighter to his chest in fright, and I could just hear his laughter over the neardeafening flaps of his wings and the wind whipping past us.
~ * ~
"You can open your eyes now, Clarissa," Lucifer said, gently placing me on what I hoped to Heaven was solid ground.
I opened my eyes hesitantly, looking around us. I heard Lucifer's wings flap once, then there was no sound from them. I looked around to see that he'd put them away.
We were standing on the top of my apartment building, overlooking the Hudson. I stepped back, into Lucifer, when I saw just how high up we were, even though we were a few feet from the open air.
"The stairs are over here," Lucifer said, turning me around gently, his hands on my shoulders. I could hear the amusement in his voice. "I didn't realize you were afraid of heights, or I'd have set us down closer to the ground."
"I'm not afraid of heights," I said, my voice higher than it had been twenty minutes before. "As long as I'm looking at the heights from the ground end."
Lucifer laughed, opening the door to the stairwell. "After you." He bowed me through.
I stepped into the stairwell, looking over the banister at the stairs curling away below me. "I'm going to be exhausted by the time we get to my apartment!" I groaned.
Lucifer smiled, rolling his eyes at me. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the top of the stairs. "We can jump in the elevator when we get to the next level, Clarissa," he said, laughter in his voice.
I felt silly, and led the way down the stairs with a warm face. I was conscious of Lucifer's cool hand around mine, but I didn't worry about it. After all, I'd just spent the night at his house. In his bed, even. I was thinking friendly thoughts—amazingly-–as I descended the stairs, leading Lucifer to the elevator at the ninety-ninth floor.
Well, it's not like I don't know him slightly. The stories I grew up with are different from the Devil himself—he even hates being called "the Devil" while the Devil of legend prides himself on his title. He even seems gentle, and caring. He healed me, anyway, even though he didn't have to.
Another voice spoke from the depths of my mind. But is it because I remind him of his wife, or is he like this with everyone? Would he treat me the same if I didn't look like his dead wife—Sera, or whatever her name was? Would he have saved my life? Would he have cared at all?
Well, the other side spoke up, he didn't know what I looked like when he tried to stop the fight, to free me from Jason's boys...
I frowned, pressing the button for my level. Lucifer seemed to realize that he was still holding my hand and let it go hesitantly. I smiled at him, and the elevator doors opened for my floor. I stepped out, waiting for Lucifer to follow me out.
"Hello, Mrs. Dymin," I said automatically to the old lady waiting for the elevator.
She smiled at me, then glared at Lucifer. I heard her mutter "demonic company" under her breath as the elevator doors closed, and I rolled my eyes. She was such a superstitious old bird...Though oddly perceptive, too.
The door to my apartment was at the end of the hall, one of only two on the floor. I led Lucifer down to it and unlocked the door, looking around.
"Mrow!" my cat yelled at me from the kitchen.
I smiled. Aspen ran over to me as I stepped in the door, winding his way between my legs. I picked him up, rubbing at his ginger fur and murmuring to him. I turned to look at Lucifer, to find the Demon was standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.
"Come on in, Lucifer." I smiled at him, walking into my kitchen. "Take a seat. Do you want anything to eat or drink?"
I headed into the kitchen, rubbing Aspen's chin with my finger. My rotten cat had turned his water bowl upside down to protest being locked inside all day so he couldn't hunt the local pigeons, and his food tray was empty. I refilled the water bowl and looked through the cupboard for the cat food.
"Lucifer?" I stuck my head around the corner. I ignored Aspen's yowled protests between his thirsty lapping.
Lucifer was standing at my bookcase, looking through the books. I assumed that was what he was doing. He was bent double to look at the lower shelf, pulling out a copy of a book from among the others, reading the back of it.
"Do you want a drink or something?" I repeated my question.
Lucifer looked up from the book, tucking it back on the shelf. "No, thank you." He smiled at me, though his eyes were half-wary.
"Okay." I smiled in return.
I looked at Aspen, who had just noticed Lucifer. My ginger cat had his fur on end, hissing and spitting. Aspen wasn't backing away from the Demon, instead glaring and acting on the offensive. I got the impression that Aspen was about to launch himself at Lucifer. I grabbed his tail.
Lucifer looked around for the source of the noise, frowning slightly.
"Aspen," I warned my cat, glancing at him.
Lucifer looked at Aspen, and sat down gently on the couch. Aspen crept around me to keep Lucifer in sight, unsheathing his claws. Lucifer looked my cat in the eyes, relaxing back on the couch. He slouched in the seat, putting an elbow on the arm and resting the side of his jaw in it so that he looked comfortable. He looked like he was sizing my cat up.
"Calm down, Aspen," he said gently. "I'm not here to hurt Clarissa in any way. You have been an excellent guardian so far, but there is no reason to protect her from me. I won't harm Clarissa. She is my friend."
I rolled my eyes. Aspen didn't listen when I told him things—just like any normal, sly and arrogant cat—so what made Lucifer think he could convince my cat to do something he obviously did not want to do?
Aspen looked at me for a second, trying to keep both of us in view. After a beat, he looked back at Lucifer and stood up, only the fur on his tail on end so it looked like a ginger bottlebrush.
"I understand," Lucifer said suddenly, as though continuing a conversation only he could hear. "Continue your good work, Aspen. You'll find no opposition from me."
Aspen seemed to scream at him, glared at me, then ran away from Lucifer and into the kitchen, meowing at me for food.
"What was that?" I demanded of Lucifer, looking between the red-skinned Demon on my couch and my ginger cat, who was yowling in my kitchen.
"Your cat's an excellent guardian, Clarissa," Lucifer said, watching me with the same expression he had the cat. "Don't ever get rid of him."
I shook my head. I could recognize someone dodging a question. "He
chose me, one day randomly on the street. He stuck his claws into my leg and wouldn't let go until I said that I'd take him with me."
"Really?" Lucifer asked as I returned to the kitchen. "That's very interesting."
"Why?" I asked as I opened the tin for Aspen, ignoring the cat's intent golden glare.
I could tell Lucifer was ignoring that question as well when he didn't answer immediately. He was staring out of my living room window, watching a white pigeon—a dove-– roosting on the windowsill. I sighed and put the bowl of cat food down on the floor, and Aspen jumped down after it. Stepping around the cat, I set about tidying up my kitchen from my cat's temper tantrum. There was very little to do, but Aspen had knocked a plate from the drainer in protest to spending the night alone, so I cleaned up the broken shards of ceramic.
"Well, I guess I should go," Lucifer said from behind me, startling me. I fell forward into the cupboard but saved myself from a bruised forehead, turning to face him.
"What?"
"I brought you safely back home, and been told off by your cat for keeping you out all night. Actually, his exact words were 'putting her in danger,' but the meaning and message remains the same. You're healed, you're safe, and you have a proper guardian."
He headed for the door and I followed him, puzzled. "You mean you're not coming back?" That I can't go back to your place again? It was fun, in a scary and kind of painful way...
Lucifer turned and looked at me, then glanced behind me. I turned to see what he was looking at, to find Aspen glaring at him from the kitchen counter, his gaze obviously outraged.
"I don't think your cat would take too kindly to me seeing you again," he said after a few seconds
I frowned. "Screw my cat. He thinks he's king of my castle, and he's not. He needs knocking down a bit." I glared over my shoulder at my cat.
Aspen caught my look and—if I didn't know that cats didn't have human facial expressions—I could have sworn that he was trying to look innocent. Well, as innocent as a cat could be, anyway.
Evil, arrogant ball of fur...I turned back to Lucifer to find he was smiling at me. "What?" I demanded.
"So you actually want to see me again? Despite the fact that you were obviously raised a Christian and taught to fear me—or the idea of me—at a young age?" He looked like he was fighting back hope. "It seems a little strange."
"Well, yeah. I'm strange anyway, and somehow I have
to thank you for saving me."
The other side of my mind spoke up, screaming shrilly at me. What're you doing, you idiot? Shut up! Stop talking to the Devil! Get him out of here!
"And you still need me to pull those bullets out of your shoulder and your chest—"
He unconsciously rubbed at the bullet wound in the center of his chest.
"Besides, you can cook and I can't." Traitorous mouth! I told you to shut up!
"So, you would like to see me again, to hang out?" Lucifer asked, frowning in confusion.
"Sure, we can hang out." I shrugged trying to sound casual. I turned to glare at Aspen, who was hissing and growling at Lucifer.
Aspen wasn't on the counter, he was running over to stand between Lucifer and me. His fur was on end, and I could just hear the last shattered remains of his bowl hitting the floor. Aspen sprang up my leg to perch on my shoulder— he'd never done it before, so I wasn't prepared for it and flinched—and cat-yelled his opinion at Lucifer.
I was amazed to see Lucifer growing even more redfaced as my cat told him off, ducking his blond head. I put a hand to Aspen's mouth, trying to hush him up, but he sank his claws into my arm and I had to pull him from my arm, cursing.
"Aspen, enough!" I snapped, looking back at Lucifer. "Lucifer is my friend and I don't want to hear another word against him. Understand?"
Aspen reluctantly stopped hissing at Lucifer, though he did occasionally make a slight disapproving sound. He kept rubbing his head against my neck, and I scratched at his chin. I was thankful that my cat was a few pounds underweight—my shoulder would be aching by now if he weighed what he should have.
I pulled my cat from my shoulder, nursing him in my arms and running my fingers up and down his back, acutely aware of Lucifer watching me. Aspen abandoned the growl— though not the glare—in favor of purring at me.
"What?" I asked Lucifer, who was matching the cat's glare with one of his own.
"Nothing." He shook his head, smiling at me. "But I do have to go. I need to get some sleep in before I set out for my rounds tonight."
"But you will come back to see me, right?" I asked before I could stop myself. I bit my bottom lip, glancing at my cat to hide my embarrassment. You absolute idiot. Flirting with the Devil... If only your mother could see you now, she'd be crawling from her grave in shame!
"If—if you want me to." His voice sounded lighter, relieved, and I glanced up at him. There was a smile on his face.
I could only nod. I could have sworn my face was bright pink with the heat of my blush.
"Then I'll be back," he promised. "Tonight?"
I looked up at him, and he smiled again, more charming than frightening. "Sure."
"I hope you don't mind another late dinner," he said. "You said you can't cook, so..."
"If it's anything like dinner last night, I wouldn't mind if I got it at dawn," I said honestly, putting Aspen down. The cat sat at my feet and watched Lucifer with his accusing yellow eyes.
Lucifer laughed, heading for the door. "Then I shall be back some time around midnight with all the things I need to make you dinner."
I smiled, laughing. "I do have food here, you know. You're welcome to use that."
"Ah, that may be so," he said, opening the door and standing in the doorway. "But fresh is always better than that half-dead stuff that I'm almost guaranteed to find in the back of your fridge," he said with a grin.
He shut the door before I could react. I felt insulted, but, at the same time, I was pleased. He would be coming back again tonight, and I would get another chance to talk to him.
Aspen climbed my leg again, perching on my shoulder. He licked the inside of my ear, making me flinch away from the sandpaper-like texture of his tongue. He meowed in my ear and I shook my head, shoving his nose away from my head.
"Yeah yeah. Whatever you say, you daft cat."
Aspen seemed to take offence, because he jumped from my shoulder and curled up on the couch, glaring at me. I ignored his golden glare as I searched through the fridge, looking for the milk. I needed a coffee.
Interlude:
Jehovah
Above New York, on the Seventh and top-most Level of Heaven Industries, I sat behind my desk, absently flicking my pencil against the wooden surface, my attention fixed on the seven screens in front of me. On the center screen, Lucifer fluttered and flew through the night sky as though he were a bird, his laughter echoing through the speakers and into my office.
"This will not do," I muttered to myself. "Samyaza is on Earth to suffer as the Devil, not to find a companion with more stupidity and guts than him."
I clicked a button on the remote and the television screens vanished behind a rotating wall. I stood and paced, taking seven steps with each turn, trying to think. "If Clarissa is killed," I muttered, stopping my pacing, "then Samyaza will stop this happiness bullshit and go back to suffering."
I clicked the screens back on, and each screen showed a different view of the fight with the Hellraisers that past Saturday. "But how to get to her..."
I stared at the ceiling, as though calling on inspiration from a higher being, though I was the highest any being could be. An idea caught and I flicked back to the video of Aspen defending Clarissa from a large, brutish kind of man. With a feral grin, I called the Hellraisers into my office.
Seven
Lucifer Morningstar
I was on top of the world as I skipped down the hallway. I was grinning like an idiot, but I didn't care. There was no one there to see me, anyway.
She doesn't hate
me! I laughed, making my way into the elevator. I hit the "up" button, waiting for the doors to close. She knows that she's the very image of my wife, and yet she still wants to see me! She knows about Sera, and my issues, and she still wants to hang out! I have a human friend!
The elevator doors opened and I headed for the stairs. I laughed in the stairwell, leaping up the stairs two at a time. I emerged out on the roof and released my wings. I flapped them a few times in the autumn air, reveling in the feeling of the wind as it rushed through my hair.
I laughed loudly at some pigeons that shrieked and rocketed away from me as fast as they could. I pulled my wings in, putting them away—I was going to have some fun with the humans and see just how many of them really had their heads in the clouds and who believed what they saw.