Page 68 of Falling for the Devil

“So, what is your plan, my lady?” The insufferable Balfour still stood close to Diana with a smitten look on his puppy-dog face. Violent tendencies pounded through Lucifer’s veins. “How may we assist?”

“First, we will need to leave the safe haven of this liminality.” She cast her eyes over the varying shades of gray that composed everything with frown lines etching across her forehead.

Lucifer tried to see it as she did. The gray rocks, ground, tree bark, and even the leaves far above their heads. This was a dreary place. Diana loved bright, vibrant color. That had been clear when she’d been so enthralled by every hue of green on the planet where they’d almost drowned.

“Here, we can do nothing. If the mortals to whom Olivier spoke with were being truthful, we will need to hike to the volcano. But”—she chewed on a fingernail and began to pace—“Lucifer and I may enter. You and the others will need to hide yourselves but remain vigilant for Asmodeus’s return. When that happens, do not confront him. Follow him instead while keeping to the shadows. Puck can assist with his magic, so you are not seen, nor heard.”

Oh, so after all this time she was admitting her companion was magical in some sense. That would’ve been helpful information earlier. Yet it was further proof that she had not trusted him. Not that he’d had the audacity to ask. Not that he had any right to know.

Although, in hindsight, the fact had not been hidden, just unspoken.

Olivier

THE PLAN WAS SET. ALL Olivier had to do was play along and wait. Maybe they’d all be slaughtered by the demon prince, but he doubted it. Either way, he intended to utilize every aspect of the endeavor to his best interests.

Lucifer had committed a great sin, but not the sin the archangel was guilt-tripping about. The poor goddess was in over her head. Even her divinity couldn’t spare her from what was to come. Besides, her own family had helped orchestrate all that had transpired.

They’d wanted the pompous Archangel of Light out of their affairs. Neither Zeus nor Ares had batted an eye when he’d suggested using Diana as bait to undo the almighty Lucifer. They hadn’t cared about the consequences for her.

Olivier huffed a sigh, trying to disguise the laughter bubbling up inside his chest as they hiked the mountainous terrain of Methuselah. Diana had vetoed flying to the scene on account of it leaving them open for attack from other mortals who didn’t take kindly to winged visitors, and in case Asmodeus was already there or was scouting the area for more prey.

He’d been impressed. She wasn’t just a pretty face and exquisite body. The goddess had brains, too. It would serve her no good in the end. She was a pawn. And if all went his way... she’d be his reward. If not, then it wasn’t like he was drooling in love over her like half the measly squadron.

She wasn’t really his type anyway. He just wanted to stick it to Lucifer some more. Not that he’d know, because the Archangel of Light would be dead, or worse.

Onward, they trekked in silence. Hours passed slow and monotonous. Every once in a while, Diana would stop to investigate a broken twig or run her fingers through the soil, then sniff them. A couple of times, she’d diverted their course after her inspection. At this pace, it’d take days to traverse the terrain to the flaming mountain. That was time wasted, in his opinion.

He’d attempted polite conversation with her but had been shushed for his efforts, so he passed the time imagining how he was going to silence her... with his vessel’s cock in her mouth, slamming against the back of her throat until she choked on his cum. Maybe—before Lucifer died—he’d make him watch.

Chapter 32

Players Change, the Game Remains the Same

Sweat stung Diana’s eyes. They’d been walking for almost an entire day with limited stops for rest or refreshment, and certainly not for sleep. That had been her call. They were all angels. She’d assumed they didn’t need breaks. Puck never tired as far as she knew. She’d never known him to sleep. And, well... she was running on adrenaline and pure wrath.

Throughout the trip, not once had Lucifer attempted to speak to her. He’d hung back with his bosom buddy, Olivier, whose eyes never left her. Even with her back turned, her skin crawled. There was no excuse for the negative vibes she was getting from him, but she’d never questioned her gut instinct. Right now, it was blaring danger signals. The fact that he’d lied when confronted by Puck’s accusation wasn’t something she was willing to overlook, even if the others all assumed the angel would never lie.

Their suspicions of her and Puck were warranted. She’d grant them that nugget of truth. Why should they trust her? They didn’t know her. What they did know didn’t bode well for her reputation—daughter of a sex-starved god with little to no moral compass. What had she done to prove them wrong? After all, she’d lusted after Lucifer ever since laying eyes on him, and had given herself—body and heart—only to have him throw her away the moment another winged holier-than-thou angel had shown up.

That didn’t sound very righteous to her. His actions rivaled those of her brothers. They’d toss aside any woman at the first sign of someone better without a hint of shame. Lucifer had cast her off like a scratchy garment at the first sign of his being discovered lacking in proper angelic virtues.

Men were men, regardless of species.

I should’ve known better.

Someone nudged her arm, pulling her from her reverie. Diana didn’t stop walking, but she trained her attention on the one sweet angel—if an angel could be labeled as such—Balfour offered her a swig from his canteen. She gratefully accepted it. Despite being divine and such, she was thirsty. She wouldn’t turn down a tray of pomegranate seeds or sugared violets either, but those were nowhere to be seen.

The water was refreshing, but lukewarm, as it spilled down her parched throat. It felt like ecstasy. Still, her feet never stopped moving.

The hike had taken longer than anticipated, but Diana had wanted to avoid all contact with mortals along the way. Despite the lonesome atmosphere of the forest, it wasn’t abandoned. The last time she’d stopped to smell the earth, it’d held the pungent odor of sweat and lack of bathing for at least twenty men and two women—one who had just given birth recently if the musty, metallic scent of lochia were any indication. Being the goddess of children and childbirth, it wasn’t hard to interpret that smell. She steered her party away from the mortals and lifted up a blessing for the child and its mother. Otherwise, there had been no signs of life, not even a whisper on the wind.

Diana handed the leather waterskin back to Balfour and nodded her thanks. His return smile lit up his face, highlighting his dazzling hazel eyes and a dimple she hadn’t noticed before.

A twig snapped loudly from behind them. She whirled, finding a not-very-contrite Lucifer.

“Sorry,” he mouthed.

Cursing under her breath, Diana glared while raising a finger to her lips. His maroon-tinged aura suggested the self-righteous angel might just be jealous.

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