Page 4 of Falling for the Devil
“Brother, stand down... please. You are offending our guest. If Father wishes for your intervention between him and royal dignitaries, he will order it so.” The voice was just as honeyed and sweet as the vision who spoke.
An exhilarating pulsing sensation—like water cascading over cool stones from a forest waterfall—flowed throughout his body to puddle in the core of his being. He wished to look into the eyes of the beauty, but a sliver of logic raised its ugly head. He must portray nothing but objectivity and nonchalance during this meeting with the gods. To show any reaction now would mark him as weak, easily distracted. And that was one trait he would never tolerate. He was the mighty Archangel of Light, after all.
Instead of giving in to his desire to touch her hand, pull her close, and stare for eternity into her eyes, Lucifer waited without moving a muscle.
Finally, the king of the gods decided he’d had enough. “Ares!”
Lucifer’s arm was freed from the god of war’s grasp. He glanced down at his shiny armor where the imprint of Ares’s hand faded away. Unable to stop himself, he lowered his chin to whisper, “Thank you.” But the beauty had already retreated as far away as she could, back beside the grumpy-faced Apollo.
Could she be his twin sister? What was her name? Artemis?
Ares stomped back to stand like a looming bear behind his father. For someone so acclaimed to be a valiant warrior, he had been brought to heel quite easily. It was obvious he would nurse his grievance for some time, which was fine. Lucifer hadn’t been sent to make friends.
The king of the gods stood, his arms outstretched as if making a grand proclamation. “We welcome you to Mount Olympus, Archangel of Light, Lucifer!” He then proceeded to stalk down the steps from the throne and... threw his beefy arms around him.
Lucifer—without thought—stepped back. This was not the welcome he’d been expecting. Quite honestly, the affectionate display made him uncomfortable. “Zeus,” he stiffly patted the god on the back. “I ... I appreciate your welcome. But...” His voice trailed off, not knowing how best to extract himself from the embrace.
“Ah, boy”—Lucifer seized up at the demeaning name—“it has been quite some time since we have had the joy of a visit from someone of the angelic realms. And now we are graced with your presence.”
Zeus put an arm around Lucifer’s shoulders, practically shoving him up the steps to the throne platform. Once there, he pivoted so they were facing the crowd of onlookers.
“My dear family, friends, and guests. We must do all we can to make the archangel’s stay as pleasant as possible. Tonight, we will feast and show our best hospitality. Tomorrow, we shall discuss business.” He clapped Lucifer on the shoulder. “After your great victory against the mighty Magnus”—Zeus shot a piercing glare to the man who had hobbled over to Ares covered in blood and dirt—“you deserve some rest and relaxation.”
Zeus made a point of looking around, assessing those in proximity to the throne. He repeatedly muttered, “No,” so softly, Lucifer alone could hear him.
“Ah, yes! Artemis, child, come forward.”
The beauty who had enraptured him all the way down on the coliseum floor took a tentative step, then stopped. Her eyes had widened, and her mouth opened and closed as if she wished to object.
So, this was the lovely Artemis. He had heard tales of her beauty, her kindness, and her strong will. Being the daughter of Zeus and Leta, she had every right to all the good and bad traits so prevalent among the gods’ children. But rumors held that she alone appeared to have only inherited the good. She was the goddess of the hunt, but also of the woods, animals, children, childbirth, fertility, and chastity. It was also widely speculated that she could speak telepathically with animals.
And she was the virgin goddess.
Lucifer shifted uncomfortably. That revelation elicited a hardening low in his armor that strained against the metal of his suit. The angelic material moved with, contorted to, and encapsulated his body while completely still or in motion. But it seemed to have developed a fault as it now chafed his most sensitive parts.
Like a dream, Artemis moved forward, then kneeled before them at the bottom of the throne steps. “Yes, my father.” Her voice was steady, but one of her hands trembled—the one with the dragon ring.
The urge to rush down the steps and help her up burned through his muscles. He couldn’t do that. His own arm twitched with the effort he had to extend to keep his feet planted where he was.
Zeus clapped him on the shoulder again. A quick glance over to her twin, Apollo, showed the god barely controlling his fury. Where his anger was directed, Lucifer could only guess. It was either at him or at his father for his demeaning behavior to his sister. Knowing what he did of Apollo, he guessed the latter.
“Artemis, I wish you to show our guest around Olympus for a while. You shall escort him to the palace, where we shall have the entire southeastern wing dedicated to his service.” Without waiting for her reply, Zeus proclaimed in a voice that boomed like thunder, “We will all reconvene for dinner. Until then... enjoy yourselves.” He turned to a woman stationed just to the side of the throne with hair the color of cocoa beans and eyes of lavender. “Hestia, you shall attend to the arrangements for our guest while I have some business to discuss with Ares and Apollo.”
Hestia bowed her head ever so slightly then vanished in a puff of white smoke, leaving behind the scent of cinnamon and other spices. Zeus snapped his fingers to his sons. Ares proceeded him off the observation platform and into a tall tower made of shimmering stones and marble that rose up into the clouds.
Everyone around them—as if on cue—began mulling around, some leaving. He was aware of Apollo approaching Artemis, whispering some secret or encouragement in her ear. Her lush eyelashes and bowed head hid what lay in her eyes. But Lucifer felt the energy shift within her and around her. Her aura cycled through a rainbow of colors before flaring into a vibrant red, the color of passion... or anger.
His breath caught in his chest when she finally did glance up at him. Fire danced in her warm eyes, mirroring the flames of red in her hair. Her features were no longer soft but hardened, like a warrior before battle. The kind of soldier who already knew defeat and death were likely but was not yet ready to accept their fate.
Yes, this luscious beauty might be the virgin goddess, but she burned with a passion kept simmering just below the surface. She was a warrior, all right.
And Lucifer found himself yearning to meet her on the field of battle.
Chapter 4
Nefarious Plans
Diana stood frozen, a smile she did not feel plastered across her face. Her father—the great king of the gods, Zeus—had just cast her into a hell of her own making. It had taken all of two seconds to be captivated by the glorious warrior battling on the coliseum floor, followed by sheer confusion and terror upon discovering his identity. Archangels were known to despise her kind. And this particular one... He was the most vocal that any deities below the Creator should be struck from the universe and history.