The only dream I remembered clearly was one with Lucas—no, Lucifer—sitting on a black throne, and the closer I tried to look at him, the more he seemed to become aware of my presence. Too late, I pulled back, but his red eyes gaze snapped to mine and he crooked his finger, beckoning me closer. That was right before I woke up, and my heart still thundered from the memory of it.
I sat up and shook my head, trying to clear it, but the fear from my dreams still lingered. I hesitated to leave the room because Lucas would be out there, with day three already planned for me. Which sin would it be today?
I swallowed the horror drying my throat. How could I possibly spend any further time with that man now that he’d revealed his secret? When I’d thought him a mob boss, I’d questioned my choices. Now I condemned them.
I moved from my bed like an old lady, slowly and carefully in case I broke. I’d nearly died last night, and my body felt tender, like it hadn’t gotten the memo I was still alive. I walked to the closet on autopilot, and the hangers clacked together as I moved them from left to right. Like everything else I touched in this room, they were good quality. Expensive. And they belonged to the devil.
Did I belong to him too now?
I drew out the first outfit my hands touched—a linen, sleeveless pantsuit. I briefly wondered if it would suit today’s activities but shrugged it off. I didn’t care about the activities. I was only doing this for Brandy.
Once dressed, I couldn’t delay any longer. I had to face Lucas.
No, not Lucas.
Lucifer.
Lu-ci-fer.
The syllables rolled around and around in my head, their sound enough to drive me crazy. Even after everything I’d seen last night, it was hard to accept it was all real.
When I finally walked into the kitchen, he was there and already dressed in another of his impeccable black suits, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper.
“Good morning.” His warm voice washed over me, as if nothing at all untoward had happened last night. Except I’d all but plummeted to my death, and he’d grown a pair of wings as black as darkness itself. But then, the devil might not have a care in the world. Why should he?
“Morning,” I murmured, although it was nearly noon at this point.
He looked me over, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t look at Lucifer without memories of my dreams flickering through my head, or of the stomach-lurching jolt when he’d caught me mid-air and saved my life. Clearing my throat, I focused on the food instead.
An entire brunch buffet was laid out on the table with everything from eggs to pancakes to fruits. I picked at a couple of things, then glanced at the apples. Ruby red, juicy-looking, and tempting me like they probably once tempted Eve. Was that story real too? I shook my head, rejecting them.
Lucifer watched my progress back toward the table, and he eyed me as I began to pick at the small scoop of eggs on my plate, but I avoided looking at him. Every time I glanced his way, my breath caught at the memory of his protective eyes looking down on me, his arms clutching me tight, his wings unfurled behind him. The enormous, shadowy, impossibly beautiful wings that had saved my life. If he had wings and red eyes—because surely I didn’t imagine those either—what else did he have? Horns? A forked tail? Goat legs? My brain conjured up all sorts of horrifying images from movies and tv shows, and I shoved my food away, my hunger gone.
Yesterday, I'd been trying to humor a sexy billionaire with a devil fetish. Today, I was dining one-on-one with Lucifer himself. It was a lot to take in. I just had to get through the next few days, and then I’d have Brandy back, and I could spend the rest of my life trying to forget I’d ever met the devil.
Yeah, right. As if that was possible.
That afternoon, we took another of Lucifer’s fancy sports cars out onto The Strip. I didn’t ask where we were going, and Lucifer left me to my silence, as if he knew I wasn’t ready for conversation. We left downtown Las Vegas and drove just past the edge of civilization, to the start of where the desert could swallow us up. He turned the car down a road that led to a sign for the Devil’s Playground Raceway, and we soon came upon a rectangular building set against the backdrop of a large racetrack with the arid, dry mountains behind it.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, as I gazed out at the race track.
“Letting off a little steam.” Lucifer gave me a wicked grin. “I thought you could use a good distraction.”
He parked in front of the building and donned a pair of black sunglasses, while I stepped out of the car and under the scorching desert sun. I was used to heat after living in Southern California, but this was brutal. Another sports car pulled up behind us and stopped on a dime, and then Zel and Gadreel jumped out. Zel was wearing her battle leather and had weapons strapped to her, and she glared at everything like even the sun offended her. Gadreel grinned and ran a hand through his sandy blond hair as he checked out the place, like he was a tourist on vacation.
“We have company today,” I noted.
A muscle flexed in Lucifer’s jaw. “You were attacked last night. I want you protected at all times from now on.”
My breath caught. “Attacked? I thought it was an accident.”
“We’re looking into it now.” He gestured at his two cronies as they approached. “I believe you’ve met Azazel and Gadreel, two of my most loyal Fallen.”
“Are they demons
