Page 32 of Falling for the Devil

The storm raged above, but the tree ceiling kept the elements away from them. With the gray of the storm, now the coverage of the canopy and the blending of day into night, darkness grew. The slippery feeling of unease returned to raise goosebumps along Diana’s flesh. How long had Lucifer been gone? Why couldn’t she hear him rummaging around for wood? He wouldn’t have gone far, would he?

Soon, Puck’s soft snores and the faint pinging of rain hitting the leaves above were the only sounds. After a few moments, Diana’s eyelids grew heavy. She tried to stay awake. But eventually, she lost the battle and fell into a light doze.

She jerked awake, not knowing how long she’d slumbered.

They were not alone. Being a hunter, Diana knew when she was being watched. Whoever, or whatever, it was didn’t understand the first rule of surveilling prey—never stare at your quarry. Look to the sides, above, or even at a point below... sure. Never directly.

“Hello,” she whispered, not knowing if she wanted something or someone to respond or not.

She scanned around them for a heat signature or something of the sort that would give away its location. Nothing was out of place. There were no other lifeforms that she could make out. Then why did her gut knot up and the tiny hairs at the base of her neck stand on end?

“Lucifer?” Diana raised her voice an octave.

A shiver ran up her spine that had nothing to do with being drenched and cold.

She nudged Puck, whispering, “I think we have company.”

Being a pooka, Puck never startled. He remained calm during even the most stressful situations... except falling from space... and nausea from even the most docile space travel. That had been his breaking point. But now, Diana felt more than witnessed his eyes flicker open. He didn’t move a muscle.

“There’s a presence...neither here nor there,” he spoke into her mind. “It doesn’t settle in one place, not even long enough to register a heartbeat or breath.” One of his hands, which had been tucked under Diana’s legs, slid to the dagger he kept belted to his side. The movement was so slow, it would’ve been imperceptible to the naked eye. “I’m not even sure it is in this world at all.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together. How was something not in this world watching them? Regardless, Diana didn’t care if it was or not. Whatever—or whoever—it was, was pissing her off.

“Now you understand what the animals feel when you’re tracking them,” Puck again spoke into her head.

“Duly noted,” she replied with a hiss.

She continued to scan all around them, praying for Lucifer to return even while a small part of her cringed at being rescued by anyone, but especially by him.

There!

A large oak tree—wider in girth than any trees on Olympus—had a hole the size of a soldier’s shield with a symbol carved into it. The etching was so faded, Diana couldn’t make the symbol out, but that was most assuredly not natural. There was nothing else unusual about that particular tree—versus the multitude around them—except for the carving. Still, something called to her internal senses from it, like an invisible beacon.

When she blinked, the tree disappeared, replaced by an ordinary one without blemish. Diana hopped to her feet. She refused to be cowed by an unseen foe who relied on trickery and camouflage.

“What are you doing?” Puck had jumped up beside her. His weapon was drawn, clutched in his left hand. His right hand grasped Diana’s.

“I refuse to play hide and seek anymore. This is ridiculous!” Diana raised her voice enough to cause an echo through the woods. “Come out! Come out! Whatever you are!”

She turned in a large circle, Puck now glued to her side. His presence was reassuring, adding to her courage... or stupidity, if a vicious monster was about to jump out and gobble them both.

She kept going round and round, her eyes seeking any change in the scenery, no matter how small.

“I’m beginning to get a bit dizzy, Diana.”

She threw the hand he’d been gripping hers with back at him with disgust. He could cower like a chipmunk with its cheeks puffed up with stolen nuts when confronted by an angry crow ten times its size. But she would not.

His soft gasp had her pivoting so fast, her hair smacked against her cheek. He pointed.

The giant tree with the shield had reformed behind them, almost a complete half-circle from where she’d first seen it. This time, the symbols glowed. At first, it was such a dull light that it could’ve easily been overlooked. Then, the illumination grew in intensity until the images seemed to burst forth from the bark to rotate in the mist-filled air. A mist that had not been there moments earlier. The pictograms swirled higher, then lower, like a butterfly scouting for nectar among a field of wildflowers.

A melodic humming replaced the previous silence. The images grew, light emitting forth from them and morphing from a soft white to the burnt orange hue of the sun as it crested over the horizon in winter.

Diana’s breath stuck in her chest. Unable to scream, she did the only thing she knew how to do... unwavering, she stood her ground. By sheer force of her will, her body did not tremble, and her heart slowed to a steady thump. She would not show a sliver of fear.

Fear was what doomed an animal to die long before an arrow was notched, or a blade was drawn.

Fear was a killer.

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