Page 7 of Falling for the Devil
Another hoot from the owl pierced the quiet. The guards who had been trailing them the entire time abruptly pivoted to march back in the other direction without a word.
These gods and their minions are bizarre.
Even Diana appeared confused and disconcerted. “Wh... wh... what? Appius, where are you going?” she called after their retreating backs.
One of the soldiers—Lucifer could only assume it was Appius—turned back with a low bow. “My sincerest apologies, for your brother, Ares, calls us back to him. You”—his eyes shifted to the sky—“are perfectly secure for the remainder of your journey.”
Diana shot up from the bench. “Then we should return with you. Ares would not recall you from my security detail for some matter of non-importance. There must be an emergency.”
“No emergency, goddess. He says for you to enjoy your time and to show the Archangel of Light the beauty of Olympus.” The soldier pivoted to join his comrades, who had already continued on ahead.
How unusual?
When Appius was no longer within sight, Diana continued to stand, staring after him with her graceful fingers cramped into fists resting on her hips. Her normal porcelain complexion was threatened by a pink flush that washed over her décolleté and up her slender neck to stain her cheeks. Whether from anger or embarrassment, Lucifer didn’t know and didn’t care. It only added to her beauty. What he wouldn’t give to witness Diana when she was truly in a rage. He didn’t know if he should fear her wrath or welcome it with his dying breath.
I should say something.
“Seems we are alone now.”
Her eyes threw darts at him, piercing through his armor. But he would not be dissuaded now that he had her to himself for even a moment.
“Is this customary? I mean, does your family normally leave you to fend for yourself with a complete stranger... even if that stranger is an angel? Are they that trusting—or delusional?” He tried, but failed, to stop the soft chuckle that rose from his chest as the pink blush that had enveloped her blossomed to a more robust crimson hue. Ah, he’d struck a nerve!
He half expected her to stomp away or weave a spell to transform him into a woodland creature for punishment. Although beautiful, and renowned for her caring and gentleness with most mortals, she also had a reputation as a vicious hothead with a temper to rival the red of her hair.
She faced him, her head held high, highlighting the gracefulness of her neck. The stubbornness of her slightly pointed chin only added to the perfection of her heart-shaped face.
“What do you mean to imply? That my family would leave me at your mercy? That I can’t take care of myself? Or that I need anyone’s protection? You”—she began to pace—“must believe me to be some damsel in distress.” Suddenly, she stalked over to him. “I can assure you that is not the case.”
Delight flooded Lucifer’s body, as if he stood underneath the nearly invisible waterfall and let the waters fill him to completion. Fiery was not an adequate enough description for her. And for whatever reason, her fury fueled an inner mischief within himself. He only wanted to provoke her more, see how far he could push her until she unleashed her wrath on him. An unbidden question poked against his logic... Why?
He stood, causing her to step back, nearly tripping on the hem of her stola. His hand shot out to catch her before she fell into the briskly running waters.
Lightning raced through his veins from the point of contact with her skin. Her golden eyes widened in surprise, too. Instead of flinging her away to squash the electricity razing every nerve of his body, he yanked her to him. All logic fled his mind. He only knew he wanted her closer, not farther away. It was a need he could not explain to anyone, not even to himself.
He wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her delicious jasmine scent and savoring the thrumming of her heartbeat against his armored chest. His hands tangled in her hair. He mentally remarked to himself that her hair was just as gloriously soft as he had imagined—when had he imagined that?—and softer than a pillow of angel feathers.
She shoved away from him with a force of a hurricane. “Do not touch me! Wh... who do you think you are? You have no right!” Indignation warred with something else in her voice and expression.
Yes, she was completely correct. He had no right. Why had he done that in the first place? He was not himself around her, his actions incontrollable. And worse, he’d gone ahead and offended her. How was he to explain himself, when he didn’t even know where to start?
“My apologies.” His voice croaked. “Just testing your defenses. I don’t really believe your family would abandon you with me, so I half expected an entire legion of their finest soldiers to burst in to save the damsel.”
Her lips, which had thinned into a barely perceptible line, twitched, then a glorious sound emerged. A hearty laugh that ripped through his heart like a sword.
“Well, as you can very well attest to now, I am no damsel in need of saving. I...save myself.”
He bowed again, lower this time. “Long live the glorious goddess—not damsel—Artemis!” Laughter bellowed out of him, but she didn’t join in the merriment. Instead, she had a vicious scowl that could’ve turned a lesser man into stone. “What?” he sputtered.
“Since you’re new around here, let me enlighten you. My preferred name is Diana, not Artemis. Even if my own father cannot indulge me this one notion, everyone else has readily accepted the alteration. So. Should. You.” She stepped away from him to stroll along the mossy banks of the bubbling creek.
He made a mental note to etch that information into his brain to never be forgotten again.
Lucifer dutifully followed. “May I ask”—he paused until she tilted her lovely face to acknowledge him—“why the name change? Either name is lovely beyond description. So why the hostility to your own name?”
Her eyes rolled up into her skull with annoyance. The expression was adorable and comical, nearly doubling him over with laughter.
“If you must know...”