Page 29 of Falling for the Devil

But it would’ve been nice to be the one to save her. Instead, he’d been the one rescued, not the rescuer. A sliver of embarrassment wedged in between his mounting respect for Diana and his need to play hero.

Diana had not spoken nor acknowledged praise from anyone. Her eyes bored into him. Anger did not light their depths, and for that, he was grateful. It was more a look of wonder tainted with concern. Perhaps she pitied him for needing saving in the first place. His own self-pity was hard enough to bear.

Behind her, Puck opened his mouth again to speak, only to have her hand fly up to stop him. “Lucifer,” she began, her voice wavering, “something is not right, but I cannot discern what it is. Has something happened to you?”

One hand reached up to cup his face, turning it first to the right and then to the left then back to center. She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled his face down to her level. The frown lines in her forehead deepened. Biting the corner of her lower lip, she stepped back to observe him further, her hand falling away from his chin. Another step back, then another.

Was she retreating from him in anger, fear, or both?

On instinct, his hand stretched out to her, to pull her back closer. “Diana, what’s wrong?” Somehow, Lucifer knew he didn’t want the answer.

What was wrong? He’d humiliated her, almost deflowered her, which would’ve put them both in the crosshairs of Zeus and a probable banishment by his father, and he had failed to protect her. Not only that, but she’d had to jump in to save his sorry butt. Yes, things were wrong. He just couldn’t fathom how to put it into words that didn’t sound like he was a pompous, egomaniac asshole. Somehow, that was important to him.

For once, Olivier was not leaping in with some nonsensical proclamation to lighten the tension or make it worse. Lucifer found himself wishing his brother would say something—anything. So consumed with worry about what Diana thought of him in the moment, he had not realized the cuts and bruises he’d suffered were already healing.

The sound of his bones snapping back into place in his hand drew Diana and Puck’s horrified stares. She stepped forward, then stopped. Puck’s eyes grew so rounded that Lucifer could see the whites of his eyes, which were normally hidden.

“I’ll be fine. A few more moments and I’ll be good as new.” He’d meant to sound reassuring, but his audience appeared doubtful.

DIANA’S FIRST IMPULSE had been to throw herself in Lucifer’s arms and weep for joy that he was safe. That urge had died once she got a good look at him. He was still Lucifer, the Archangel of Light. He was still glory personified. But something just wasn’t right. She’d inspected every inch of him, but found nothing definitive to determine what was wrong.

At first, she’d blamed it on the circumstances—they were on a dead planet, had just survived a black hole, he’d been without his physical vessel for some time, and he’d almost been killed by that inky black monster.

Wait! An archangel was fierce, unstoppable, no matter the enemy he faced. Why then had Lucifer had such a challenging time dispatching that thing?

Once she held a weapon in her hand, it had taken her no time to slay the beast. Diana knew she was an expert hunter and could be a valiant warrior, but she had no illusions that she would ever compare to an angel, much less one of Lucifer’s caliber.

Other than being a little banged up, she could discern no obvious changes in him. Still...

“Well, it’s been a lovely sojourn here on Planet Everything-is-Dead, but what do you say we say our farewells to this giant rock and get this little expedition back on track?” Olivier stepped in front of Lucifer, blocking any further assessment. “This time”—he craned his neck—“I’ll steer us in the right direction, so we can avoid any more delays.”

He was the only one who laughed at the joke. Puck stayed silent, squeezing Diana’s hand. Lucifer stared down at the barren ground. If he hadn’t hurt her, she would’ve felt sympathy for him. Lucky for her, she knew how to hold a grudge. Too bad she couldn’t turn an archangel into a stag to be hunted for eternity. Even if it was possible, she was certain there were divine laws against that sort of thing.

“Shall we go?” Olivier stretched out his hand to her.

“Yes, please. Get us out of here!” Puck enthusiastically proclaimed, pushing her toward the angels.

Considering how the trip had gone so far, Diana’s heart fluttered at the prospect of what awaited them.

Olivier cast a wide circle of iridescent light around them. Little sparkles shimmered, giving it the illusion of being encapsulated inside a large, fragile soap bubble that could burst at any moment.

The cocoon lifted off the ground, gaining speed at a tremendous rate. Diana dared to look down. With the light of the angels fading from the surface, dark shadows slithered out from the edges. Diana shivered. She could’ve sworn the howls of what had remained unseen moments earlier followed them.

NO ONE SPOKE THE REMAINDER of the trip. Even the creepy manservant sat on the floor of the angelic cocoon with his legs crossed, his eyes cast down staring at his clenched hands, trying to avoid the scene on the other side of their bubble.

Diana gnawed on her lower lip—a sight that did more to revive Lucifer’s energy than anything else so far—her gaze fixed on the wondrous brilliance of stars and planets they raced past. Her eyebrows were arched over the bridge of her nose, causing frown lines to etch into her forehead. He guessed utter disenchantment with the reality of the Archangel of Light not living up to his reputation had contributed to her unease. Lucifer didn’t blame her. Quite frankly, for the first time in his existence, he was disappointed in himself.

He fidgeted with his hands. The injured one had healed, but still ached.

Not being responsible for their travel and protection gave him too much idle time to ponder all his recent failings. Olivier had looked back a couple of times, eyebrows raised, and nodded toward their companions. Lucifer realized he should be preparing them for arrival, what to expect, and protocols for dealing with native people of the planet. Or he could’ve just made small talk. He chose neither. Silence was the only gift he could offer.

Besides, if Diana turned her warm, golden gaze on him, he knew words would fail him. It would be just another opportunity to convince her that he was not the angelic hero of lore.

“We’re about to enter the upper atmosphere of Methuselah. There could be some turbulence, as the planet is known for its wild weather anomalies. So... hold on tight. This could be a bit bumpy.” Olivier laughed, skirting around to the left to avoid the blinding illumination from the larger of the twin stars the planet orbited.

A bit bumpy would be an understatement for a normal landing here. It was another reason Lucifer preferred to portal in. Last time, he’d flown straight into a vicious storm and had his wings singed by lightning.

And this time was no different.

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