Page 8 of Falling for Ash
Among friends.
And yet, so very alone.
Ashmedai did not deserve happiness. He owed penance for his crimes, though committed against his will. Ash knew that and would live out his long existence trying to make up for it. He had no other recourse.
“Is this your true wish, Ashmedai?” Lucifer asked.
Unable to respond for the lump in his throat, Ash nodded once. A short, quick movement as he sealed his own fate.
“Then,” Lucifer stated slowly. “I have a task for you, Ash. A job, if you will. And I will brook no refusal.” Mellowed somewhat with his mating, Lucifer was still Lucifer. Powerful and used to getting his way, mated or not. Ash might be at a crossroads in his own existence, but he understood that very well.
“Yes, my liege. I am ready to carry out your wishes.” Ash bowed his head respectfully, turning to face Lucifer, hands clasped behind his back and his feet the standard shoulder length apart. His stance one of rest, and yet always on guard. Trained as a warrior, despite his fleshly reputation and title, Ash was a champion legionnaire. He waited, prepared to carry out Lucifer’s command to the best of his ability. Honor and duty would allow nothing less.
“I command you to attend tonight’s speed dating at the Cafe. That is an order, Ashmedai.”
Well. Shit.
Chapter
Three
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Gabby arrived at her destination. She forked over an exorbitant fee to park her car and was walking through the front door of DeLux Café in no time at all.
Good thing too, as her stomach had started to complain about the lack of food inside of it a good twenty minutes ago. She shivered despite the heat and stood waiting for the hostess to greet her. She was always chilly, no matter the surrounding weather. Her stomach growled again, and she put a hand on her belly as if that would shut the thing up.
“I’m looking for Mariah Bailey Keen,” she informed the very pretty hostess, hoping like hell the woman could not hear the incessant gurgling noises.
“Certainly, miss,” the woman replied coolly. She glanced at her tablet, raised her eyes to look Gabby over once more before pasting a smile to her face.
Gabby knew what she was thinking. Something along the lines of what was a chubby little nobody doing meeting one of Los Angeles’ top realtors for dinner at this hard to get into hotspot.
Well, Gabby had one answer for the female.
Noneya.
As in none of ya beeswax.
Grrr.
Eeek!
Was she actually growling?
She shook her head, pretending she did not just make that horrible noise.
“Are you alright?” The hostess asked.
“Certainly,” she replied sweetly.
Too sweetly, in all honesty, but she was trying to keep herself calm. What she really wanted to do was reach out and smack the thin female. Oh my, she thought with more than a little trepidation. Maybe a drink or appetizer would put her in a better mood. She’d heard of people getting hangry, but this was the first time she understood what they meant.
Easy, Gabs, remember you are a lady.
She sucked in a calming breath, wrinkling her nose at the odd scents she was picking up. There were too many to pin down, so she lifted her hand on the pretense of scratching her nose just to breathe the light perfume she’d spritzed on her wrist before leaving the house. It was a little trick she’d picked up a few months ago when her symptoms had started.
Along with her headaches and stomach cramps, Gabriella had developed a bloodhound’s sense of smell. Disconcerting, to say the least. Especially when she’d looked online and read it could indicate some very serious illnesses, including certain types of autoimmune disease and brain tumors.
“I have to tell Mim,” she murmured.
