Page 85 of Endless Terrors
“You said you’re a reflection of what I want most. So you’re like a Nightmare?” I repeated.
“No.” Lucifer tilted his head, his mouth pursed in thought. A lock of that shining, golden hair fell over his brow. He refocused on me and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Say what you wanted most was acceptance. You would not look at me and see a vision of yourself surrounded by friends or adoring fans, but you would feel whatever that dream makes you feel. It’s more subtle than that, of course.”
Hearing this, I felt sick … and maybe a little impressed, too. No wonder the devil inspired such devotion and loyalty. No one stood a chance against power like that.
Oh, God. What did it mean, then, that I’d taken one look at him in the mirror and felt an immediate sexual rush?
I tipped my wine glass back again.
Lucifer was silent as I gulped it down, finishing what was left. He waited to speak until I lowered the glass. “Truth or dare,” he said.
The wine did help. I felt less jittery, and there was no waver in my voice when I looked him in the eye and answered, “Dare.”
“Touch me.”
I blinked. “What?”
Lucifer didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and came around the corner of the table. His scent assailed my senses again, threatening to undo my clarity and resolve. He bent into a bow and held out his hand. He didn’t say the words again, but I heard them. Our eyes caught and held as his dare whispered through my mind. Touch me.
I looked at his hand as if it were something dangerous. If I didn’t take it, I would lose the game, and then I’d have to join him for dinner every fucking night. Seven nights of this tense silence, this push and pull, this relentless temptation. Regardless of what Lucifer said, that’s exactly what he was to me. The wildness in him called to mine like a sirensong, and if I got too close, I might drown.
I just needed to stay afloat long enough to get back to my family.
Without letting myself think about it anymore, I reached for Lucifer, and my fingers curled around his. He pulled me up from the chair, picked up our drinks with his other hand, and led me away from the table. We walked across the room and stopped in front of the fireplace, where Lucifer turned to face me. The light moved over his thick, wavy hair, making certain strands glint and gleam as he let go of my hand and gently pressed my wine glass into it.
“See?” he said softly. “Nothing happened. You didn’t catch fire, or get bewitched.”
I wasn’t so certain.
I tipped my head back and forced myself to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes glistened with so many secrets and depths that it was dizzying, like peering down into clear ocean. “It’s your turn” was all I said.
Lucifer lifted his drink wordlessly. I only hesitated for a beat before raising my own. We clinked our glasses, drank, and the game went on.
Again and again, Lucifer opted for truth. Again and again, I forced myself to pick dare. I kept bracing myself for him to take advantage, force me to do something terrible, but his dares only involved food. He’d brought our plates over from the table, and every time my turn came back around, he selected something new to put in my hand. Despite how alien it all looked, the flavors were good. Some of them were comparable to things I’d eaten at home, and others were like nothing I had encountered before.
There was only one thing on the plate that I didn’t like. Hate would be a more accurate word, actually. When I registered the taste, I wrinkled my nose in revulsion, and Lucifer laughed at my expression. The sound sent another flutter through me.
Saida came back to clear the plates, and she also brought a new bottle of wine. Lucifer gave her a warm thanks as he took it. The demon blushed and scurried away.
We kept drinking, and I stopped worrying about the truth spell. I couldn’t feel it, and it wasn’t relevant to my part in this game, anyway. After a while, it felt like the wine flowed through my veins instead of blood. Our back-and-forth became less restrained. I began to say whatever popped into my head.
“Have you influenced me with your power?” I asked bluntly. I pointed my wine glass at Lucifer, almost spilling it on the rug. “And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
We were sitting in front of the fire now. One of Lucifer’s long legs was stretched out beside me, his calf nearly touching my hip. Neither of us had acknowledged it. I felt loose and warm, like my body had started to thaw.
“No, I have not,” Lucifer responded. As if he knew exactly why I was frowning, another smile hovered around the devil’s lips. “What you feel is like calling to like. Soul reacting to soul.”
Sure, I thought, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. I didn’t believe it was our souls that kept colliding—it was our darkness.
The thought sobered me up a little. I drew away from Lucifer, realizing how close I’d been leaning. Guilt and unease settled in my chest. It’s the cozy fire. And the wine, I thought. My gaze fell on the glasses next to us, both of them empty now, along with the two bottles we’d finished. I needed to get out of this room. What came next wasn’t going to be any easier, though. Neither of us had yielded and my plan was still in action. I hid the way my insides trembled.
“I think I should probably go to bed,” I said.
“I’ll escort you up,” Lucifer said, just as I knew he would. He got to his feet and once again extended his hand. It was still my first instinct to ignore it. But now, more than ever, it was important that Lucifer believed I was softening toward him. I steeled myself and allowed him to help me up, sparks going through my fingers. He released me right away, and we left the impromptu picnic area we’d made.
On the way to the elevator, we passed Dagan and the other guard. It didn’t feel right to ignore them, so I gave both a small, awkward wave. Dagan returned the gesture with a kind smile. Shit, I thought, facing forward quickly. I was starting to like Lucifer’s staff.
Less than a minute later, we arrived at the door to my room. It was time for the second part of tonight’s plan. Or the third. I wasn’t sure, I’d lost count somewhere along the way. I was actually glad I’d had so much wine, because it made this easier.
