by Emma Castle
“Thank you. I can’t really afford an attorney right now. My father’s medical bills wiped me and my mom out financially.”
“I understand completely. Well, as I said, you may come to me at any time. Do you have any other questions?” Lionel asked.
“No, that’s it I think.” She stood up, and Lionel shook her hand again.
“Just call or stop by if you have any other questions.”
“Thanks.”
As she left the attorney’s office, Diana felt for the first time that she had a chance to control the situation. If she made herself too easy, if she made him think she was no longer a challenge, he might leave her alone and look for more interesting girls to pursue. It was clear he wanted a challenge, and if she no longer was one, then he would let her father live and let her go back to her normal life and she’d… Diana cleared her head of the thought of never seeing him again. He was the devil; she needed to pursue this loophole in their contract and go free. She couldn’t allow herself to think of anything else.
She had a barbeque with her parents that afternoon but she knew she had just enough time to squeeze in a visit to Amara. She arrived on street with the Occultist’s Apothecary shop around lunchtime. She parked her car and went inside. Amara was standing by the window hanging a collection of crystals connected by brightly colored strings to what looked like talismans from various cultures. The afternoon sunlight was caught in the crystals and fractured into shafts of multicolored light that danced along the bottles of ingredients and the books that filled the shelves. The sight was spellbinding.
“Diana!” Amara greeted her warmly and set the extra crystals on a nearby table.
“Amara.” Diana suddenly had the urge to hug this woman. She was the only person who understood what Diana was going through.
“Come, child.” Amara chuckled and opened her arms.
Diana rushed to hug the other woman tight. She didn’t mind that Amara had called her child. The other woman was probably only ten years older than her, but it sounded like a sweet endearment.
“You’ve changed,” Amara murmured as they let go of each other. The beautiful black woman cupped Diana’s chin and studied her face closely.
“Changed?” Diana swallowed hard. That didn’t sound good at all.
“Yes. There’s a glow around you.”
“A glow? Not a shadow?” she asked as Amara waved her to the back of the shop.
“Let me read your leaves again.” Amara poured a cup of tea, and they sat down at the table.
“What did you mean about a glow?” Diana took a long gulp of her tea. It tasted like a soft chamomile and velvet.
“A glow is like an aura, but purer. Auras reflect moods, so they are always temporary. A glow is permanent. It has to do with one’s being, not one’s mood.”
“But…shouldn’t I be shadowy or something?”
“What makes you say that?” Amara asked as she took the mostly empty cup from Diana and turned it over on its saucer to drain the last bits of the tea before she turned it back over and studied the shapes in the cup from the ground-up tea leaves.
“Well…” Diana’s face flooded with heat. “He…we…hooked up last night. And this morning.”
“You ‘hooked up’ with the devil?” Amara chuckled. Diana was amazed that Amara could laugh. She was brave enough to laugh at the devil and the darkness as though she was scared of nothing.
“I did.” Diana folded her hands in her lap and stared at them.
“He didn’t force you?” Amara’s caramel-brown eyes were serious now, all humor gone.
“No. Definitely not. It was totally consensual.” A little too much. She’d been begging him for it.
“And you’re upset because you didn’t want to want him?” Amara tilted her teacup, her eyes studying it once more.
“Yeah. I mean that’s right, isn’t it? I shouldn’t want him. He’s bad, like the ultimate bad boy.”
“He certainly is,” Amara said. She set the cup down and sighed. “But giving yourself to him, wanting him, it gave you the glow.”
“What? But how is that even—” She couldn’t make sense of that.
“When you desired him, what drew you in?” Amara asked.
“Well, it was just him, the way he was smiling, looking at me. And he’d taken me to a romantic place and…” She couldn’t put into words how she’d felt when they’d been close in the pool. The energy between them had been completely electric, like a broken power line falling on a road during a storm. It had been frightening and alluring, and the burn of touching it had nearly killed her, yet she was left wanting more.
“You didn’t want his power—you wanted him. That’s not the same, you see? You wanted the angel, not the devil.”
“But he’s not an angel anymore, is he?” she asked.
“Course he is. An angel is still an angel, merely a fallen one.”
“Oh…I see.” Diana watched as Amara poured her another cup of tea. “Was my first reading not okay?”
“No, it was fine. This is to calm your nerves. Chamomile will help you relax.”
“Thanks.” Diana drank her new cup of tea.
“Now,” Amara said as she leaned back in her chair, “the tea leaves tell me that you are bound to the dark, but not consumed by it. That is good. You must continue to listen to your instincts. Perhaps being with him is not so bad. It may be your destiny.”
Diana laughed a little incredulously. “Destiny? But I don’t believe in anything like that.”
“Just because you don’t believe doesn’t mean something isn’t true.” Amara’s serious reply made Diana’s heart flutter. She hadn’t believed in the devil or even hell—at least she wasn’t sure if she did or not. Yet Lucien had proven he existed, contrary to her beliefs.
“So you’re saying I should totally give in to the devil and enjoy the ride?”
Amara’s eyes were warm with silent laughter.
“No, no, of course not. Merely listen to yourself, protect yourself, but if something feels right to you, even if society’s rules tell you it might be wrong, trust yourself first. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Ahh.” She took another sip of the velvety tea. A quiet silence settled between them that neither of them seemed quick to break. “Thank you for being here for me. I don’t have anyone else I can talk to about this, you know.”
Amara reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Destiny brought you to my door, and I won’t turn you away.”
“Thanks.” Diana finished her tea and picked up her coat and purse. Her cell phone buzzed, and she checked the messages.
Unknown number: Even your tea leaves are right. You belong to me.
Lucien. There was only one person who could know about her and Amara meeting.
“It’s him,” Amara said, though she was seven feet away and couldn’t see the screen.
“The devil has my phone number. Ugh.” Diana groaned. “And he’s spying on me,” she announced loudly. “Which is the opposite of cool, by the way.” She knew he could hear her. Amara raised a questioning brow.
“Sorry, I know I look crazy, but he can hear me when I talk,” she explained. Her phone buzzed again, and she looked at the screen.
Unknown number: I’m not cool, I’m hot. Haven’t you figured out that by now? ;-)
He finished the text with a pineapple emoji.
What the hell did the pineapple emoji mean? She saved the number in her phone under one word as the name: Asshat. Now at least she could get a laugh each time he messaged or called her.
Diana: What does the pineapple mean?
Asshat: If you don’t know, you’ll never guess.
Diana: That was nice and cryptic.
“Are you all right to drive home?” Amara asked.
“Yeah, thanks again.” She gave Amara one more hug and headed for her car. It was going to be a long week if Lucien kept texting her over and over.
Asshat: Where you going now?
Diana s
tared her phone screen as she sat in her car.
Diana: Stop texting me. I’m about to go to the grocery store, and I won’t text and drive, not even for you. By the way, I hate emojis.
Asshat: The person who created emojis has a spot reserved in my workplace. Don’t worry, he’ll get his comeuppance.
Diana snorted, a little surprised he made her laugh. She put the phone on silent and tucked it into her purse before she started her car. This afternoon she had a barbecue at her parents’ house with her parents’ neighborhood block, and the last thing she needed was to be bothered with the devil.
11
He ended, and his words, replete with guile, into her heart too easy entrance won. - John Milton, Paradise Lost
The little supermarket Diana stopped at was a high-end one that her mother liked. Armed with the list her mother had sent her, she parked her car and retrieved her purse before she exited the vehicle.
“You weren’t kidding.” A dark voice chuckled, and she jumped. Lucien was leaning against the side of her car.
“How the heck did you—you know what? Never mind.”
Lucien chuckled. He still wore a black suit and his signature red tie. He looked so intimidating and out of place in the parking lot of the store. She couldn’t help but remember how he’d used that red tie to bind her wrists while he tortured her with pleasure in his bed. Her thighs clenched and her womb throbbed to life at the memory. She’d never look at red ties the same way again.
“I don’t even have to read your thoughts,” he murmured silkily as he stroked his hand over the tie and then flashed her a wicked look. “I’ll be sure to use it again. The next time I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be hoarse from screaming.”
Diana blinked, unable to speak for several seconds, and then she shook off the erotic enchantment his words had cast over her.
“You have to stop saying things like that…at least in public.”
“Noted.” He glanced around. “I’ll be sure to tell you everything I’m going to do to you once we’re alone.”
They stared at each other, the electricity sparking between them until a car alarm made Diana jump and Lucien’s focus break. A woman nearby had hit her alarm on accident and was frantically trying to get it to stop.
Lucien rolled his eyes, and with a snap of his fingers, the alarm turned off.
“So, let’s go shopping. I’m curious to see how mortals grocery shop. I never usually watch humans do much of anything unless it involves lust, money, or power.” He waved to the woman walking past them pushing a cart full of food. She glanced at them, frowning.
“Maybe you should cool it on the whole mortal thing. If people think you’re crazy, they might call the police.”
Lucien flashed her a devastating grin. “Oh, don’t tempt me, darling. I’ve got handcuff fantasies on the list for next Friday night.”
A hot blush burned Diana’s face, and she grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the store.
“Let’s just get in there, get the stuff, and get out.”
“Why in such a hurry?” he demanded, but his lips twitched.
“I have to go to a thing this afternoon, so the sooner I can satisfy your need to play the mortal, you’ll leave and I can get back to my life.”
“Now, hold on, you can’t just shrug me off. Yes, at midnight on Friday you do have to do as I wish, but the rest of the week there is nothing stopping me from joining you as you do whatever it is you do.”
They entered the store, and classical music filled the air. The soft floral scent of freshly cut flowers made Diana relax. She did love shopping here, even if it was more expensive.
“You really plan to tag along while I shop for groceries? Don’t you have people to maim, torture, and bring to the dark side?”
He pushed back the sleeve of his suit and checked his expensive Cartier wristwatch. It had a red quartz face. No surprise there, she thought. The man loved black and red.
“I’ve got time between maiming and torture sessions.”
“Oh lucky me.” She couldn’t help but layer the response in sarcasm.
Lucien ignored her and grabbed the nearest cart and began pushing it. The sight was almost comical, with men and women in the store watching him as he headed toward the produce section. The men looked on with envy and the women with desire.
Diana sighed and rushed to catch up.
“What is on your list?” Lucien asked as he picked up a very big pineapple and set it in the cart.
“Well, pineapples aren’t.” She reached for the fruit to return it to the display stand, but he smacked her hand away, tsking.
“That’s for me, darling.”
“What is it with you and pineapples?”
“The devil has to keep a few secrets,” he said cryptically, but the glint in his eyes told her he was teasing.
She focused on her list. “Hot dogs, hamburgers, buns for both, coleslaw—”
“Good God, what sort of party is this?” He plucked the list from her hands, eyeing it.
“A barbecue.” Diana tried to take the list back, but he wouldn’t let her.
“You know, I’ve never been to one. I think I shall ‘tag along,’ as you put it.”
“No!” she gasped. “You can’t.” The devil at her neighborhood barbecue was a terrible idea.
“Yes I can.” He curled one arm around her waist and leaned in as though to kiss her cheek, but instead he whispered in her ear, “I can do anything I like. Never forget that.” He licked the shell of her ear, and she shivered as her body awakened with desire. She nearly burned up with mortification when she noticed an older lady watching them.
“I’ll get the meat. I love the butcher.” Lucien left her to walk up to the counter about ten feet ahead of her. The older woman wheeled her cart up to Diana’s, smiling.
“Keep a hold of that one, dear. He’ll make beautiful babies.”
“Thanks,” Diana said. Her face was hot, and she was surprised she wasn’t steaming.
She looked at Lucien’s back as he leaned casually over the curved glass of the deli counter and talked to the butcher. The butcher laughed at whatever Lucien said as he collected fresh hamburger patties. A young woman pushing a stroller stopped next to Lucien while she ordered some fresh salmon. Her child, a little boy, was fussing, but he cooed and waved his arms at Lucien, who glanced down at him. For a second Diana was worried Lucien would do something to make the child cry. Lucien merely grinned at the baby, and the child squealed in delight, clapping his chubby little hands. Diana hastily walked up to stand beside Lucien on the other side.
“Thank you,” the mother said as she collected her salmon and turned to Lucien. “He’s been fussing all day—teething, you know. This is the first laugh he’s had in days.”
“He’s a cute little guy.” Lucien flashed another grin at the kid before he glanced at Diana. “What?”
“You made him laugh.” Diana simply stared at him. How did he keep surprising her like this? Just when she thought she had him figured out, he proved he was even more unpredictable.
“I like children.” He shrugged.
“You do?”
“Yes. Children are pure. They aren’t complex. It’s refreshing.”
“Huh.” So he was into pure…like her. He’d said her soul was pure.
“I am still an angel, you know. Angels love children. We share a lot in common with them. We both believe our parents are the beginning and end of our existence, and almost all things in the world delight us.” He took charge of the cart again and leaned his elbows on the handle.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“Er…” She checked her list. “Buns.”
“Buns.” He chuckled. “Buns it is.”
“Stop saying that!” she hissed, but part of her wanted to laugh.
“Buns are on aisle five,” he announced loudly, drawing the stares of everyone around them.
“Stop!” She giggled and jabbed one elbow into his ribs.
“Oh, you’re no fun. Perhaps your buns need to be warmed,” he teased and mimed a spank in the air. A woman giving away free samples of cheese nearly choked when she saw Lucien spanking the air.
Diana pushed him and the cart down the nearest aisle, which thankfully had no other shoppers in it.
“I can’t take you anywhere.” Diana shook her head, but despite the embarrassment she was laughing. She hadn’t realized how tightly wound she had been for so long, ever since her father had gotten sick. She’d bottled up all her tears, fears, worries, and darker emotions, and now she felt them escaping. They seemed to be leaking out and evaporating like morning mist.
“You should laugh more,” Lucien said softly. His dark eyes burned hers, and the heat of it made her feel a little dizzy.
“Why?” she replied.
“Because it is a beautiful sound, and…you need to. I could see that pain you bottled up. It isn’t good for your soul.”
She arched her brow. “You care about the good of my soul? I thought the devil liked to hurt people?”
“Actually, I do care. I want you pure and lighthearted. I have plenty of dark and angry souls to deal with at the office. I made a bargain with you because you’re not like that.”
Diana wasn’t quite sure what to say. She cleared her throat and focused on the grocery list.
“We need chips. Some tortilla ones.” She pointed to a rack, and Lucien grabbed two bags and then waited patiently for her next order.
“Um…a brownie mix for dessert.”
“Mix?” He frowned. “What is a mix?” The way he said the word mix made it sound disgusting.
“It’s powdered brownie mix in a box.”
“Ugh. No, we aren’t doing that. This way.” He pushed a shopping cart to the bakery and picked up a freshly made cake and presented it to her with a cocky grin. She stared at the label and rolled her eyes.
“Devil’s food cake. Why am I not surprised?”