Page 57 of Midnight with the Devil

Diana stepped out into the late-afternoon sunlight. Dark clouds were gathering in the distance, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something wasn’t right. She could sense it,somethingin the air, but she wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong.

She got into her car and headed back to her apartment. She needed to get some sleep. All would be well. Tonight she had to meet Lucien again, and maybe they could talk about her feelings. She laughed. Yeah, there would be no talk of love, not when she spent her midnights with the devil.

“Where is she?”Lucien growled at his driver.

“I don’t know. She didn’t come down to the car. I waited almost an hour. The lights in her apartment were dark, and I even went up and knocked. No one answered.”

Lucien stared at the single white feather in a glass box. It floated gently on wings of magic, soft celestial dust glinting like sparkles in the snow-white feather. Gazing upon the feather always filled him with a mixture of joy and pain.

My last remnant of the days before the fall.

“Thank you for checking on her, Douglas” he finally told the driver. “You may go. I’ll handle things tonight.”

“Yes, Mr. Star.” The human hastily exited Lucien’s penthouse. Once he was alone, he closed his eyes and called upon his powers. In a flash, he was in Diana’s apartment, but it left him feeling a little dizzy. His powers weren’t as strong since the croucher attack, and he had no idea how long it would take to recover. It was dark and quiet, the air hot and stifling.

“Diana?” he called. When he received no response, he rushed into her bedroom and froze. Diana lay in bed, shivering violently beneath the mountain of blankets. He approached the bed and placed the palm of his hand against her forehead. His hand came away covered in cold sweat.

She was ill.Badlyill. How was that possible? Then he snarled. Her professor had cancelled class this morning due to an illness.

“Jimiel!” he hissed.

“What?” the guardian angel responded as he suddenly appeared on the opposite side of the bed.

“You let her get sick, you winged moron!” Lucien waved his hand at her body. She was asleep, deeply asleep in the way only an illness could leach someone’s energy to the point of being nearly unconscious.

Jimiel’s eyes were hard. “I didn’t let her. I was avoiding you and wasn’t there to see her become infected.”

Lucien tilted his head, sensing a lie, but he couldn’t fathom why a guardian angel was lying to him.

“Make her better, then.”

Jimiel shook his head. “The illness must run its course.”

Lucien glanced at Diana again. She was pale and still trembling. Seeing her like this, vulnerable and hurting, filled him with rage.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” He pressed one hand to her cheek and opened himself to his powers. Usually they came out in a rush, but this time they came out only in a trickle. It wouldn’t be enough. Hewasgetting weaker; Andras was right.

He turned to shout at Jimiel, but the angel was gone.

“Lucien?” Diana had been healed enough that she was awake, and she was gazing at him.

“It’s all right, I’m here.” He felt the need to reassure her, to let her know she wouldn’t suffer this alone. When he’d fallen from heaven, he’d been completely alone. Hurt and suffering, he’d clawed his way out of the crater toward Eden, and he would have given anything to have someone there to comfort him. He would not let Diana face this alone. She was still sick, still weak. And he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her.

“I missed the car,” Diana murmured drowsily.

“You did,” he replied as he stroked away the strands of her hair. She was covered in sweat.

“Are you mad? You won’t…” She drew in a shaky breath. “Hurt my dad?”

“No,” he vowed. He would not punish her for her guardian angel being an asshole. If Jimiel wasn’t careful, he was going to smite that bastard.

“What can I do?” Lucien asked. He wanted to heal her further, but he was still weak from his battle with the croucher demons.

“I’m cold and sweaty,” she said and sighed unhappily.

“What about a hot shower?” he offered.

“Yeah, that might be nice.” She struggled to get the blankets off, and he rolled his eyes and helped her out himself. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into her bathroom. He held on to her by the waist after he set her down. Then he turned on the shower. She pulled at her clothes but was too tired, so he helped remove her shirt and panties. She seemed too tired and sick to care that she was naked. He had turned the shower on, and she leaned against the wall, sighing as the hot water hit her.

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