Page 4 of Midnight with the Devil

“Diana, wait.”

Her name upon his lips stopped her dead in her tracks.

“How do you know who I am?” Terror clenched her throat so hard the words barely escape her mouth.

The man turned to face her. His head inclined toward her, his body moving with a slow grace, his eyes pinning her in place as he came closer.

“You sent a prayer out for your father.”

Stunned, she nodded.

“I’m here to answer your prayer.”

His dark eyes seem to swallow her whole as his words punched her gut. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Was he a doctor playing a game? Or worse, just some creep who lurked in hospital chapels to prey on emotional women?

“I’m not a creep lurking around waiting to prey on emotional women.”

He chuckled again, the darkness edging the sound giving her chills. He’d heard her thoughts. “But…how? You’re not a doctor. You said you don’t save lives. I don’t understand—”

He raised one hand, index finger pointing up to command silence. She closed her mouth. The man drifted closer step by step, and she still couldn’t move. They were now only a foot apart, and she could feel that awful, crushing darkness rolling off him in waves.

“I’m not a doctor, and I only save lives when there’s something in it for me.”

Diana wrapped her arms around herself. “I still don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a sweet, innocent mortal. No need to worry. I am happy to spell it out for you.” He reached out to touch her cheek.

Suddenly the chapel vanished around them and they were in front of her father’s room, peering in at him and her mother from the doorway. Her father lay still, his face waxen with approaching death, and the sight tore at her heart so fiercely she nearly cried out. The man from the chapel was right behind her, his warm breath fanning against her neck. She shivered.

“I make life-changingdeals.”

“Deals?” She didn’t understand how they’d gotten from the chapel to her father’s room.

I’m dreaming. That has to be it. No one around them moved. The nurses at the station were frozen, her parents too. The multiple monitors connected to her father were still and silent. This was how all her nightmares went. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, she just had to face whatever was happening. This was most definitely a dream.

“Yes.” The man’s voice was low, seductive, like a lover. “You want your father to be well again, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Diana stared at her father, his face a mask of pain and exhaustion.

“What would you give for him to be healed?”

She spun to face the dark-eyed man and came face-to-face with his red necktie. He was towering over her; he had to be at least six feet three. She barely came up to his shoulders.

“I…”

“Think now, think hard.” The man’s dark eyes lowered to her lips as though he was thinking about kissing her. A wild flush rippled through her.

“I would give anything.”

“Anythingis an awfully dangerous word.” His dark eyes were like fathomless pools, but in them she saw her father walking, laughing, alive. The hunger for that moment, to see her father healthy and happy, was so strong that she was able to shed her fears of this man and bravely speak the truth.

She pursed her lips for a minute but then nodded. “Anything.”

He studied her, and she refused to flinch beneath his assessing gaze. She straightened her back and lifted her chin, wanting to project confidence. The man seemed amused by her sudden change, and a slow, seductive smile lifted the corners of his lips.

“Would you give yourself tome? Sell your soul?” the man asked, his voice hard-edged beneath that layer of silken seduction.

“Sell my…”

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