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Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer Book 1)(12)

By:Elizabeth Briggs


“They couldn’t say no to me,” Lucas continued talking as if my thoughts hadn’t carried on racing forward at a million miles per hour. “They’re demons, you know. Imps, actually. Their kind tends to become musicians, actors, that sort of thing. Imps always crave the spotlight. Don’t worry, I paid them handsomely too.”

And now we were back to the demon talk. It had to be some sort of quirky billionaire eccentricity—a way to amuse himself when he could already afford every other sort of amusement in existence, no doubt—but it was really getting old. Of course, it would explain what I saw earlier today… But no. There had to be a more reasonable explanation for that.

Lucas caught my hand and pulled me close, still laughing. “Dance with the devil?”

Maybe he was crazy, but as he drew my body flush against his, I found myself melting in his arms. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to want to pull away from him. I soon lost myself in the song and the feel of Lucas’s hard chest pushing against mine. Though he was much taller than me, his masculine body molded against mine perfectly, and the sense of rightness I felt in his arms was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

His hand on my bare back led me across the floor, and for a few minutes all I knew was the pounding of the bass drum and the tingle where Lucas touched me. I couldn’t deny how much I wanted him at this moment, even if getting involved with someone like Lucas was a terrible idea. Even without his obvious eccentricities, he was powerful, and it was the kind of power tainted by danger. He bargained for the things he wanted but couldn’t buy, and fear as much as lust slid cold fingers down my spine as I considered my position at his side.

When the song ended and another one began, Lucas left his hand lingering on my back and turned me toward the bar. “Come, let’s get a drink.”

We walked toward the bar, and many people stopped to notice us, especially the way his hand claimed me. There would be no doubt in any of their minds that I was Lucas’s woman, at least for tonight. For all I knew, he had a new woman on his arm every week.

As the thought of that made my stomach clench, someone in the crowd shouted. We both turned and watched as something on the stage exploded with a burst of light and a deafening boom, setting off multiple screams in the audience. One of the screams might have been from me.

The members of The Hellions ran off stage as blue flames shot into the air, quickly engulfing everything and spreading unnaturally fast along cords and into the audience somehow. People began to run toward the exit in a panic, while Lucas wrapped an arm across my shoulders and turned us away from the conflagration.

“Ignore it,” he said, as he signaled to someone on the sidelines to deal with the fire. “It’s all an illusion.”

“What?” I glanced behind my shoulders as the flames danced across the pool’s water, my head spinning and my heart pounding.

“An illusion. Imps can create them. Someone is causing a distraction, though I’m not sure why.”

As he rushed me away from the burning stage, I spotted Zel running forward with Gadreel and some others, presumably to put out the fire…or whatever you did with illusions. Then the panicked crowd swallowed us up and I was bumped into by several people. In the chaos, I was separated from Lucas and surrounded by strangers, while blue flames suddenly sprouted up near us, so close that many people jumped and screamed. I took a few steps back, until I was pressed up against the wall surrounding the edge of the roof, but the flames kept coming while people around me tried to escape.

Then something hard and fast plowed into me with such force it sent me flying.

No, not flying. Falling.

The sudden force of the collision knocked all air from my lungs as I somehow went over the wall of the roof and plummeted toward my death. I couldn’t even scream, because I couldn’t suck in any air. Time slowed as I suffocated on my own panic, my limbs flailing, trying to grab onto something, anything, while my body dropped toward The Strip below me.

Then it hit me—I was going to die.

My life didn’t pass through my eyes. There were no moments of clarity. Instead, I felt only regret for all the things I hadn’t done and for not finding Brandy, along with an unexpected pang of loss for not getting to finish my seven nights with Lucas.

There was something else too. A sense of inevitability. As if I’d always known my death was coming swiftly and violently, sooner than later.

Like in my dreams.

The rush of air ripped tears from my eyes, but through the haze I saw something dark falling above me. For a second I thought a man had jumped off the edge of the roof, but that was absurd. Until the man came closer, and I made out Lucas in his black suit. I watched his eyes glint red as his determined face drew near, and I laughed, because surely this was some kind of near-death delirium. Or maybe I was already dead?

Just as he wrapped his strong arms around me, enormous, black-feathered wings erupted from his back. My stomach lurched as we stopped falling, and I sucked in a huge rasping breath of air, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest from the impact.

“I’ve got you,” he said, as he tucked me close against his chest.

I could only stare in shock and wonder as his wings moved like shadows against the bright city lights. Darkness trailed away from each feather like smoke as we flew through the air, rising until we reached the balcony of his penthouse. He landed easily beside the pool, but didn’t let me go, his arms wrapped protectively around me as I leaned against his chest. Probably a good thing, since I wasn’t sure I could stand.

I looked up at Lucas’s impossibly handsome face. His eyes had lost the red glow, or perhaps I’d imagined that, but the black wings were still there. They looked like they were made of night itself, and I watched the way the darkness curled around him, the shadows clinging to his body and maybe even forming the hint of horns above his head.

“Am I dead?” I managed to ask. “Are you an angel?”

“You’re not dead.” He gazed down at me with such fierce protectiveness it took my breath away. “And I’m definitely no angel. Not anymore, anyway.”

My heart was still beating out of my chest, but I had to see if this was real. I reached up with a trembling hand to touch one of Lucas’s wings, running a hesitant finger along one of the night-colored feathers. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes for the briefest moment, and it surprised me to see how much such a light touch could affect him. How I affected him.

Our conversation from last night came back to me like a voice on the wind, as everything he’d told me connected with everything I’d seen in a rush of clarity.

“I am the devil. My true name is Lucifer.”

“You’re trying to tell me you’re actually the devil. Fallen angel. Evil incarnate.”

“Evil? Probably. Fallen? Definitely.”

I could no longer deny it.

Lucas Ifer really was the devil.

And I’d made a deal with him.





8





Lucifer





With one last look at the star-filled sky I'd plucked Hannah from, and the bright lights below where everything could have ended, I cradled her closer to my chest and strode inside the penthouse to settle her on the sofa. Her blonde hair spread over the black leather cushions like spun gold, and her blue-eyed gaze watched me with a mixture of shock and something else. Fear? Curiosity?

Fire raced through my veins as I turned in a circle and raked a hand through my hair as I tried to figure out what to do. Water. That’s what she needed. I headed to the bar and poured some for her, and a whiskey for me. This certainly called for a drink.

That was too close. I’d nearly lost her. How had she fallen? By the time I spotted her in the panicked crowd, it was already too late. If she hadn’t screamed, I wouldn’t have seen her in time. Someone must have shoved her, and hard too. Only supernatural strength could have gotten her over that wall.

Was he after her already? Or was it someone else? Fuck. I couldn’t even keep her safe on the roof of my own building. Would it be better to send her away? Would she be safer?

No. No. She was safest by my side. This time would be different. It had to be.

When I returned with her water, Hannah sat on the sofa in the exact position I’d left her in. She hadn’t moved or said a word, she just stared off into space with her perfect lips slightly open. This was definitely shock. Falling from a roof would do that to anyone, not to mention being saved by the most infamous villain in the world.

As soon as I realized she was shivering, I waved a hand at the fireplace and it ignited, instantly. Then I snatched a velvet throw from the chair by the fire and covered her with it. As I tucked it around her shoulders, she finally moved her eyes upward, focusing on something behind me. I whirled, expecting to find someone there, but we were alone.

As I returned my attention to Hannah, I realized her wide-eyed gaze was glued to my wings. I tucked them away quickly, making them vanish.

“I was planning to show you my wings, and prove to you all I’d been saying,” I said in my softest voice—the one I reserved only for Hannah—as I squashed all the fury still roiling inside me. “But not like this.”

She jerked her gaze to my face, and her perfect little mouth formed an o. “It’s true. It’s all true.”