Page 7 of Midnight with the Devil

He normally saw people’s darkest desires when he sealed their bargains. He exited the chapel and moved unseen through the hospital until he reached the room where Diana and her mother were saying their goodbyes for the night and going home. After they had left, he walked over to where Diana’s father lay breathing softly, his eyes closed. Lucien stared down at him for a long minute. The man was deep in a coma, wouldn’t last the night, not that Diana or her mother knew that. They only knew that time was limited. The doctors had assured them they would have another day or two to say goodbye and take him off the machines. But even the machines couldn’t stop the death that was creeping through Hal’s body.

Lucien reached out and woke Hal from the coma. Diana’s father’s eyes slowly opened up, and he had the look of a man lost, a man who’d begun his travel to the other side but had been pulled abruptly back.

“You’ve come for me?” The man opened his eyes, and they were soft gray eyes just like Diana’s.

“I’m not Death. He’s the one who pays house calls,” Lucien said with a sardonic smile.

“This isn’t a house call?” Hal coughed and winced, and then he relaxed, his eyes starting to close as he struggled to stay awake.

Lucien watched all this in fascination, strangely reminded of his own fall and the struggle to go on. The human will to survive, to overcome any obstacle, even one as painful as death, was so strong.

“So if you aren’t Death, and there’s no way you’re a doctor, then who are you?” Hal asked. Pain filled his voice, but he sounded strong now too. Lucien felt a stab of pride in knowing a man like this had fathered his newest pet, for that was what Diana would be: his pet, a plaything, one he would take good care of even while corrupting her with her own forbidden desires.

“I don’t think you want to know who I am.” Lucien picked up the charts at the end of hospital bed, flicking through the complicated pages.

“Try me,” Hal challenged.

Lucien put his charts down and walked around the side of the bed, offering a hand. Hal placed his hand in Lucien’s just like Diana had, and he showed Hal exactly who he was by letting Hal glimpse his own personal hell just as he had shown Diana hers.

Hal’s face paled even more. “You’re the…the…”

“Yes.” Lucien didn’t bother to say the word. He’d never been overly fond ofdevilorSatan. They were such negative words for a being who’d once been named heaven’s brightest star.

“That’s not…you can’t be…” Diana’s father struggled to accept the truth, but after a long moment, he seemed too tired to fight.

“I am. You’d better believe it,” Lucien replied.

“But why are you here?” Hal asked, eyes wide. “I’ve tried to be a good man.”

“And…luckily, you succeeded.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not dragging you down to hell. Scout’s honor.” Lucien chuckled, but Hal didn’t laugh.

“I’m here because your daughter just bought you the winning lottery ticket.”

“What are you talking about?” Hal blinked in shock as Lucien placed a palm on his forehead.

“Don’t worry, you won’t remember any of this.”

Hal’s eyes closed, and white light went from Lucien’s hand into Hal’s head. The last vestiges of his angelic powers—oddly the ones the heavens hadn’t taken from him when they’d taken almost everything else—still worked.

Lucien dropped his hand from Hal’s face and glanced toward the machine that now beeped in a steady rhythm.

Come dawn, the doctors would be baffled by Hal’s quick recovery, and they would send him home, declaring it a miracle.

But for Diana it was to be a debt. A debt he was very interested in collecting. There was a momentary flicker of guilt at knowing he would be Diana’s destruction, but he buried it deep inside. The devil couldn’t afford to feel guilty, not when the universe’s very stability relied on him remaining a selfish bastard and stealing pure souls. For Diana it would it would mean surrendering her pure soul to the realm of darkness so that her soul could fortify the gates and keep all hell from literally breaking loose.

Diana slept in,not wanting to leave the comfort of her warm bed in her little apartment. If she was being honest, she didn’t want to face today. She and her mother had spoken to the doctor, and today they would take him off the machines keeping him alive. The doctor wasn’t certain how long it would take for her father to die, but Diana knew it could be a few days. He was so damn strong, had always been strong, and he would cling to life while she and her mother watched in agony.

I can’t face that, not yet.

Outside the sun was up, light peeking in through the pale-blue curtains on her bedroom window. For a long moment she lay there, thinking about the frightening dream she’d had when she’d fallen asleep in the chapel the day before.

A deal with the devil.

She sighed heavily and forced herself out of bed. Diana couldn’t put off the visit to the hospital any longer. Her mother would need her there, and it would be one of the last times she would get to see her father before…before he was gone. She trembled, and a chill stole through her, settling deep into her bones. Whenever she thought of her dad being gone, it left a burning, hollow ache inside her chest. It would only get worse once he was really gone.

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