The Devil's Angel (Devil Series Book 2) (12 page)

Eve shuddered and wrapped her arms around her chest. “How did you know him?”

“I met him once, hundreds of years ago, and even then, I had enough sense to never do it again.”

Eve’s gaze lowered to the floor.

“Why, Eve? Why him?” he asked. He knew it shouldn’t matter as she was a different person now, but he had to know.

Her eyes met his. “I came from parents who believed abuse was necessary. But it wasn’t just physical abuse. Every day I had to listen to their evil propaganda, never knowing what love was. When Boaz came along, he offered me a way out. He made me feel special, like I was the only person alive. At first I sensed his evil, but I was so desperate for love, or what I thought was love, that I blindly gave myself to him. It wasn’t until later that I realized his love came with a price, but by then it was too late. I was addicted to using black magic, and I felt it the strongest when I was with him. The connection between us was intoxicating. I couldn’t get enough of it.”

“But you say there’s a connection between us. How’s that supposed to make me feel? How do I know you’re not hanging around me so you can get
high
?” He regretted the words the moment they left his lips.

“I guess I deserve that.” She moved toward the front door.

“Where are you going? The food will be here in a minute.”

“I need to go.”

“Eve, I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it. Stay here.”

She removed a cell phone from her pocket and dialed a number. After a minute she said, “Hi, Charlie. How’d it go?”

Charlie’s voice said, “Perfect. We destroyed them all. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. So can I go back to my house now?”

Charlie paused. “I guess so, but I’d feel better if someone was with you. Will Lucien be there?”

Eve looked up at Lucien. “No.”

Lucien couldn’t help but be upset, whether at himself or her, he couldn’t be sure.

Charlie’s tone brightened. “I’ll come over then.”

“That’s all right. Can you just send someone to watch from the outside?”

Charlie’s voice dropped. “Sure. No problem.”

“Thanks.” She ended the call. “Listen, Lucien, I’m tired. I’m going to go home—alone. I hope I’ll see you later but do what makes you comfortable.”

“This is crazy. It’s not safe.”

“I’m sure you heard what Charlie said. I’ll be fine. Have a good night.”

She closed the door, leaving Lucien alone.

Lucien parked his car in the usual spot, a block away, and headed in the direction of the stupid Oak tree. The sun had set moments ago leaving the sky a dirty gray and black.

He didn’t blame Eve for leaving him earlier. What he’d said was cruel and untrue. Lucien had never been jealous before, but the thought of Eve with Boaz made him sick—still, that didn’t mean he thought he should be with her, either. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t allow it. He had nothing to offer, no chance at making her happy. All he could give her was protection, and it was only a matter of time before whoever sent the vampires would realize they were unsuccessful and send more.

Eve was inside the house, shuffling through papers with the television in her bedroom turned on to a news station. The Deific had sent a car, but after only a few hours, it left. Some protection. After a while, he moved to her porch and decided to stay there instead of the tree, which felt too far away.

The next morning was just as sunny and bright as they day before, much to Lucien’s dismay. He walked the porch back and forth until he surprised Eve as she was coming out the front door.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he blurted.

“You were only expressing how you feel.” She kept walking.

“I’m not sure how I feel.”

“Sounds like a problem for a psychiatrist, not me,” she said over her shoulder.

“Would you please stop?”

She turned around. “What do you want, Lucien?”

“To take you to work. Let me be your chauffeur for a while—at least until we figure out who’s behind these attacks.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to do this.”

“Why?”

“To make sure you’re safe.”

“Why does it matter?” Eve pressed.

“You’re fishing.”

“And you’re not biting.”

“I’ve never been a good fish.”

“And I’m obviously not a good fisherman.”

He smiled. “Come on. Let’s get you to work before Captain America’s tights get any tighter.”

She paused for just a moment, then, to his relief, followed him to the car.

“Be nice to Charlie,” Eve said as she slid into the passenger seat. “He really is a good man.”

“That’s what some people said about Ted Bundy.” He shut the car door before he could hear her response. She saved it for when he got in on the other side.

“Why do you give him such a hard time?” she asked.

Lucien started the car. “He talks too much.”

“And you mope too much.”

“He has puffy hair.”

“He does not have puffy hair! It’s just curly.”

“Like a poodle.” He turned a corner, but not before he noticed Eve trying to suppress a smile.

“I mean it, Lucien. Charlie’s important to me. I’d like it if you two could get along.”

“I’ll try, but if he says something stupid then I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Ten minutes later, he pulled in front of the Deific. “I’ll be here when you get off. Call me if you leave early or go to lunch. I’ll come get you.”

“This is silly. I don’t need you to do this. Charlie can get someone at the Deific.”

“Like he did last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whoever he sent stayed only a few hours and then left. I’d rather do it myself.”

“If you insist,” she said. Instinctively, she leaned toward him as if to give him a kiss goodbye.

He backed away from her, surprised.

She froze. “Sorry. That was strange.” She searched his face. “It just seems to be the natural thing to do.”

She opened the car door. “Thanks, Lucien. I’ll see you later.”

As soon as she disappeared, Lucien rested his head against the window. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He didn’t want her to think there could be something more between them.

For the next couple of weeks, Lucien repeated the same schedule. He became Eve’s driver, taking her wherever she wanted any time, day or night. Many times, she would ask him to stop the car unexpectedly so she could speak to a passerby. Her words never made sense to him, but obviously they meant the world to whomever she was speaking to.

In addition to unscheduled stops, he also discovered Eve had a secret fetish for late night fries and ice cream. He spent many of his evenings driving her around, looking for an open restaurant. One night, instead of going out, Eve talked him into making homemade ice cream and fries. It quite possibly could have been the most fun he’d had in centuries, but it was overshadowed by an enormous amount of guilt. This kind of life was not meant for him.

Lucien tried to ignore the fact that his life was changing dramatically. Before Eve, he felt like he’d been traveling in a desert, dying of thirst. But all of a sudden, she had become his water, quenching his desires for anything else. She was giving him a new life, and when he looked at her, dipping her fries in a chocolate shake, he was content.

If it wasn’t for the constant, unexplainable gnawing feeling in his gut, he might’ve been able to call himself happy. But the pain always grew stronger whenever he carelessly let his mind wander to the “what ifs” of life. What if I wasn’t a monster? What if I could make Eve happy? What if it were possible for us to be together? But then the pain would become too great, reminding him of the solitude world that was to be his and his alone.

It was three in the morning on a Tuesday night. He positioned his body in the car, back against the door so that he might have a better view of Eve’s home. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it beat sitting in the tree behind him. The radio was turned low to a rock station, helping to pass the time.

Eve’s front door opened, and she slipped outside. Seconds later, she opened the passenger door and slid in.

“Ice cream run?” he asked.

“Come inside, Lucien. You’ve been out here every night alone. You might as well be inside.”

He wasn’t expecting this.

“Please? You can stay downstairs.”

He wanted to accept, but he fought against it, the pain growing. “I want to stay out here.”

“You
want
to stay out here?” she repeated.

He forced himself to nod.

“Fine.” She jumped out of the car and walked away without looking back.

The next morning Eve was unusually quiet as he drove her to work.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

She stared out the window. “I’m just tired.”

But the next several days, she appeared tired also. She only talked to him if he asked her something and even then they were only one or two word answers. When the weekend came, Eve told him she was going to hang out with Charlie and wouldn’t need a driver. She had emphasized “driver”.

So he’d obviously hurt her feelings, but what was he supposed to do? He only wanted what was best for her. But after the weekend came and went, he knew he could never endure that much time away from her again.

On a day where she finally seemed more chatty than usual, he seized the opportunity. Before he dropped her off, he said, “Can I take you somewhere tonight?”

“Not necessary,” she said.

“I know it’s not
necessary
. But I want to show you someplace. Somewhere I love.”

Her eyebrows rose slowly. “Oh,” she said, realization sinking into her expression. “You mean you want to
take
me somewhere … I thought you were offering me a ride.”

“I’m offering you whatever you want,” he said, then quickly amended, “Well, almost anything.”

”Okay,” she said, biting her lip. “Where do you want to take me?”

“It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. I guarantee it. But you have to see it for yourself.”

“I look forward to it," she said and smiled.

Come midnight, she was back in his car and they were on their way.

“We’ll be there soon,” he told her. They rode in silence again, but at least Eve didn’t seem as down as before. A short while later, he parked the car behind a power plant just outside of Seattle.

“Take my hand,” he said.

She slid her palm into his. He tried to ignore the warmth that spread throughout his body.

He guided her to the side of a small concrete bridge and down a steep ledge to the bottom, to where a small stream disappeared beneath it. Because the tunnel under the bridge wasn’t quite tall enough for Lucien to stand upright, he bent over slightly and moved into it, pulling Eve with him. He kept to the side, careful to avoid the trickle of water that ran through it.

They walked in complete darkness, but his vampire eyes had no trouble maneuvering through the long tunnel. Eve didn’t ask once where he was taking her nor did she ever hesitate. Her blind trust in him made him grip her hand tighter.

After walking for about half a mile, he stopped in front of a door on his left and gave it a hard shove. It groaned under the pressure and gave away. A stench of moldy water and musky dirt blasted them in the face.

“The smell gets better, I promise,” he said as he walked through the door. “There are steps up ahead. I’m going to pick you up.”

Her hand came up to his chest. He paused briefly, feeling light-headed. He quickly shook it off and scooped her up. At the bottom of the metal stairs, he set her down.

“We’re almost there.”

She still said nothing but held out her hand, waiting for him to guide her. He grasped it gently and pulled her long. They rounded a corner to where a faint light could be seen up ahead. As they drew closer, he watched her face, wanting to see her reaction when she tried to figure out where they were.

The walls around them were layers of old wood; some of the boards had fallen in, letting dirt crumble into the tunnel. They passed an old wooden door that hung by one hinge. It opened into a narrow room where the roof had almost collapsed. Eve paused to look inside before she moved toward the lights ahead.

Three flashlights hung by a rope from the ceiling.

“Did you do this?” she asked as she reached to touch one.

“I set them up earlier.”

“What is this place?”

“It was Seattle over one hundred years ago. All the buildings were made out of wood back then. One day, a cabinetmaker accidentally started a fire from burned grease-based glue. He tried to put it out with water but that only made it spread. The fire department at the time used too many hoses at once so they couldn’t get enough water pressure to put the fire out, making it the greatest fire in Seattle’s history. It burned thirty-three city blocks.” Lucien crossed over to wooden steps and sat down.

“Instead of rebuilding, they decided to regrade the streets one to two stories higher than the original city in order to avoid the constant flooding and plumbing issues. What you see here is the original part of the city. This section of it has been closed down for at least eighty years, but another part of the underground city has been restored. They give tours of it daily.”

“It’s amazing that all this time I’ve been walking above it, never knowing a whole city lies beneath me.”

“Most people are oblivious to the past or they simply don’t care to know.”

“It’s remarkable. I’ll have to go on the tour one day.”

“Please don’t. They’ve tried to romanticize the tragedy that happened here, but there was nothing romantic about it. Many people lost their lives.”

“So you took me to the most unromantic place in all of Seattle?”

Lucien frowned. “I never thought about it like that. To me this place is humbling. At any given moment, something grand can be destroyed. It can be buried, leaving no trace of its existence behind. It reminds me that I am no greater than the dirt beneath me.”

They stood there in silence for several minutes. She traced the wooden walls with her fingertips.

Finally, she said, “I understand what you are saying. It’s important to be humble, but your logic is missing something. I think you believe that if you experience any kind of joy, then suddenly you’re not humble anymore and you’ve become greater than ‘dirt’. But consider dirt for a moment. Where would the world be without it? We could not exist. There would be no plants for food and no trees for shelter. Dirt is a necessity. So is every living thing. We all contribute to this earth, and everyone has a role to play. But what would happen if dirt suddenly decided it didn’t like its role anymore and it drowned itself into the sea? How would we grow things then? It is the same with us. If any one of us decides we don’t like our role, or think we don’t have one to play, and we remove ourselves from the world, there will be consequences.”