The Devil's Wife (9 page)

now.

      "Do you have a partner or someone you need to call, to reassure them that you're all right?" Lucifer asked, sniffing and clearing the tears from his eyes, leaning his head back to let the sun's rays fall on his face. "I was going to ask you last night, but it was almost midnight when we had dinner, then you fell asleep and I forgot."

      I shook my head. "No. No, there's no one else. Well, Aspen might be missing me, but he's resourceful. He'll find his own food for a while."

      "Your cat?"

      "Yeah."

      Lucifer nodded, still looking out at the countryside.

      "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but do you want to try to heal my stomach again?" I asked, touching the wound just to the left of my belly button. "Or at least help me fix the bandages? I'm not as neat with them as you are."

      Lucifer smiled carefully and looked back at me. "All right. I'll try again," he said hesitantly. He reached over, lifting my shirt so he could see what I'd done with the bandages. He snickered as he took them off.

      "What?" I asked, curious. He was probably laughing at my shoddy dressings.

      "Good thing I'm doing the bandaging," he said in a teasing tone. "Because you're terrible at it."

      I lifted my nose slightly, acting insulted. "Well, I'm sorry, I haven't had ten thousand years'—"

      "Five," he corrected me with a laugh.

      "—five thousand years' experience patching myself up," I continued without missing a beat, crossing my arms and pouting.

      Lucifer laughed again, helping me lie down. "I didn't spend the entire five millennia patching myself up, you know."

      "Well, your fighting skills seem to be limited to 'point and shoot,' so it wouldn't surprise me if you did," I said tartly, glaring at him.

      "The 'point and shoot' part's right," he said, resting his hand against the wound, "but it was also a lot easier to duck spears, arrows and even crossbow bolts than bullets or musket balls." He frowned slightly for a second, closing his

eyes.

      I watched a cloud drift past, then a second, noting the absence of a roof or rails on the deck. I figured it was handy not to have a roof if he took off and landed here rather than the overgrown front lawn.

      The last two clouds in the sky were almost beyond my line of sight, hidden by the roof of the house above my head, when Lucifer stirred, yawning and opening his eyes. He rubbed his hands, as though they'd gone numb with using his magic.

      "Sorry that took so long," he said, pulling his hand back and covering a yawn with it, "but I'm tired."

      I sat up and he moved to help me, but I didn't need help. His hands fell into his lap as I realized that there was no pulling sensation in my stomach. Well, no more than usual. I looked at the area the wound had been and found just a scar in its place, with lines in the same shape as stitches intersecting it.

      "Sorry, that was the best I could do," he apologized from behind another yawn.

      "It's okay. I think scars show survival skills. I like it." I ran my finger over the scar. It stood above the rest of my skin like a relief. I looked back at him, a smile on my face. I stood up, and Lucifer climbed to his feet faster, helping me. "You should get some more sleep."

      "So should you," he returned, opening the front door for me.

      "I don't need sleep," I said with a grin, waving his comment off. "I just need coffee."

      "Ah. I don't have coffee," he said apologetically.

      "I know," I said, smiling at him. "I already had a look for it. I'll go down the shops and get it."

      Lucifer shook his head, shut the door again, leaving us outside. "Do you have your house keys and whatever else you need to get into your home?"

      I looked through my pockets. I never used a handbag, keeping all my things in my pockets, where they couldn't be stolen easily. I pulled my keys from my left pocket, amazed I hadn't stabbed myself in the hip with them in my sleep. "Yeah, I've still got them."

      He smiled, gesturing me closer.

"Don't you need to sleep?" I asked.

      "I could still fly to Australia and back before I fall asleep in the air. Flying, for me, is like walking for you. Bare minimum of thought, no effort," he said with a cocky grin. I was still slightly hesitant, but he took his shirt off. Without waiting for me to say yes, he stepped up close to me and swung me up in his arms.

      "I'm starting to think you like carrying me around," I complained lightly, my arm around his neck as I watched over his shoulder. I was fascinated by his wings emerging from his back.

      I felt Lucifer's chest vibrate as he laughed, stepping up to the very edge of the wood. "I don't mind it," he said, and his tail whipped around, balancing him. "It's not like you're heavy. Where do you live?"

      I gave him my address and made the mistake of glancing down. Lucifer was standing on the edge of his deck, balancing on his toes. I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes and burying my face in his neck. He laughed again, moving so that my brown hair suddenly flapped in my face, obscuring my view.

      I felt the wind whip by us and heard the crack of his wings. He had thrown us out into the air, and we were flying over the country-like landscape he owned, heading for the city a few miles away.

      I got the feeling that flying with me in his arms was no effort at all to him. I pulled myself tighter to his chest in fright, and I could just hear his laughter over the neardeafening flaps of his wings and the wind whipping past us.

~ * ~

      "You can open your eyes now, Clarissa," Lucifer said, gently placing me on what I hoped to Heaven was solid ground.

      I opened my eyes hesitantly, looking around us. I heard Lucifer's wings flap once, then there was no sound from them. I looked around to see that he'd put them away.

      We were standing on the top of my apartment building, overlooking the Hudson. I stepped back, into Lucifer, when I saw just how high up we were, even though we were a few feet from the open air.

      "The stairs are over here," Lucifer said, turning me around gently, his hands on my shoulders. I could hear the amusement in his voice. "I didn't realize you were afraid of heights, or I'd have set us down closer to the ground."

      "I'm not afraid of heights," I said, my voice higher than it had been twenty minutes before. "As long as I'm looking at the heights from the ground end."

      Lucifer laughed, opening the door to the stairwell. "After you." He bowed me through.

      I stepped into the stairwell, looking over the banister at the stairs curling away below me. "I'm going to be exhausted by the time we get to my apartment!" I groaned.

      Lucifer smiled, rolling his eyes at me. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the top of the stairs. "We can jump in the elevator when we get to the next level, Clarissa," he said, laughter in his voice.

      I felt silly, and led the way down the stairs with a warm face. I was conscious of Lucifer's cool hand around mine, but I didn't worry about it. After all, I'd just spent the night at his house. In his bed, even. I was thinking friendly thoughts—amazingly-–as I descended the stairs, leading Lucifer to the elevator at the ninety-ninth floor.

      Well, it's not like I don't know him slightly. The stories I grew up with are different from the Devil himself—he even hates being called "the Devil" while the Devil of legend prides himself on his title. He even seems gentle, and caring. He healed me, anyway, even though he didn't have to.

      Another voice spoke from the depths of my mind. But is it because I remind him of his wife, or is he like this with everyone? Would he treat me the same if I didn't look like his dead wife—Sera, or whatever her name was? Would he have saved my life? Would he have cared at all?

      Well, the other side spoke up, he didn't know what I looked like when he tried to stop the fight, to free me from Jason's boys...

      I frowned, pressing the button for my level. Lucifer seemed to realize that he was still holding my hand and let it go hesitantly. I smiled at him, and the elevator doors opened for my floor. I stepped out, waiting for Lucifer to follow me out.

      "Hello, Mrs. Dymin," I said automatically to the old lady waiting for the elevator.

      She smiled at me, then glared at Lucifer. I heard her mutter "demonic company" under her breath as the elevator doors closed, and I rolled my eyes. She was such a superstitious old bird...Though oddly perceptive, too.

      The door to my apartment was at the end of the hall, one of only two on the floor. I led Lucifer down to it and unlocked the door, looking around.

      "Mrow!" my cat yelled at me from the kitchen.

      I smiled. Aspen ran over to me as I stepped in the door, winding his way between my legs. I picked him up, rubbing at his ginger fur and murmuring to him. I turned to look at Lucifer, to find the Demon was standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

      "Come on in, Lucifer." I smiled at him, walking into my kitchen. "Take a seat. Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

      I headed into the kitchen, rubbing Aspen's chin with my finger. My rotten cat had turned his water bowl upside down to protest being locked inside all day so he couldn't hunt the local pigeons, and his food tray was empty. I refilled the water bowl and looked through the cupboard for the cat food.

      "Lucifer?" I stuck my head around the corner. I ignored Aspen's yowled protests between his thirsty lapping.

      Lucifer was standing at my bookcase, looking through the books. I assumed that was what he was doing. He was bent double to look at the lower shelf, pulling out a copy of a book from among the others, reading the back of it.

      "Do you want a drink or something?" I repeated my question.

      Lucifer looked up from the book, tucking it back on the shelf. "No, thank you." He smiled at me, though his eyes were half-wary.

      "Okay." I smiled in return.

      I looked at Aspen, who had just noticed Lucifer. My ginger cat had his fur on end, hissing and spitting. Aspen wasn't backing away from the Demon, instead glaring and acting on the offensive. I got the impression that Aspen was about to launch himself at Lucifer. I grabbed his tail.

      Lucifer looked around for the source of the noise, frowning slightly.

      "Aspen," I warned my cat, glancing at him.

      Lucifer looked at Aspen, and sat down gently on the couch. Aspen crept around me to keep Lucifer in sight, unsheathing his claws. Lucifer looked my cat in the eyes, relaxing back on the couch. He slouched in the seat, putting an elbow on the arm and resting the side of his jaw in it so that he looked comfortable. He looked like he was sizing my cat up.

      "Calm down, Aspen," he said gently. "I'm not here to hurt Clarissa in any way. You have been an excellent guardian so far, but there is no reason to protect her from me. I won't harm Clarissa. She is my friend."

      I rolled my eyes. Aspen didn't listen when I told him things—just like any normal, sly and arrogant cat—so what made Lucifer think he could convince my cat to do something he obviously did not want to do?

      Aspen looked at me for a second, trying to keep both of us in view. After a beat, he looked back at Lucifer and stood up, only the fur on his tail on end so it looked like a ginger bottlebrush.

      "I understand," Lucifer said suddenly, as though continuing a conversation only he could hear. "Continue your good work, Aspen. You'll find no opposition from me."

      Aspen seemed to scream at him, glared at me, then ran away from Lucifer and into the kitchen, meowing at me for food.

      "What was that?" I demanded of Lucifer, looking between the red-skinned Demon on my couch and my ginger cat, who was yowling in my kitchen.

      "Your cat's an excellent guardian, Clarissa," Lucifer said, watching me with the same expression he had the cat. "Don't ever get rid of him."

      I shook my head. I could recognize someone dodging a question. "He chose me, one day randomly on the street. He stuck his claws into my leg and wouldn't let go until I said that I'd take him with me."

      "Really?" Lucifer asked as I returned to the kitchen. "That's very interesting."

      "Why?" I asked as I opened the tin for Aspen, ignoring the cat's intent golden glare.

      I could tell Lucifer was ignoring that question as well when he didn't answer immediately. He was staring out of my living room window, watching a white pigeon—a dove-– roosting on the windowsill. I sighed and put the bowl of cat food down on the floor, and Aspen jumped down after it. Stepping around the cat, I set about tidying up my kitchen from my cat's temper tantrum. There was very little to do, but Aspen had knocked a plate from the drainer in protest to spending the night alone, so I cleaned up the broken shards of ceramic.