Bound By Lucifer by Aiden Pierce
Chapter Six
Jess
Iwoke up late the next morning to my phone vibrating on my nightstand. I jerked awake, fumbling for the phone and nearly smashed the answer button seeing Melanie’s name on the screen.
“Hey, girl—”
“Jessica!” She sounded relieved. “I’ve called you a million times. You scared the shit out of me last night. I was about to drive over to your place to check on you.”
“I’m fine,” I groaned, looking at the clock that read 11:45 AM. “Just slept in. Hey, about last night… I’m really sorry about how I got angry with you. I should have believed you.”
An awkward silence settled between us for a moment before it was broken with her sharp inhale. “So…you know?”
“Yeah. I know. I feel so stupid.”
“Hey, it’s not an easy fact to swallow. The devil lives downtown. And not only that, he owns most of it. And when I say most of it, I mean most of it. Gabe says he just bought the YMCA. Can you imagine telling all the old ladies in the water aerobics class that their water wingies are paid for by Satan?”
“Well, I’m glad you’re suddenly in a chipper mood about the devil being real. Last night you seemed pretty freaked out.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m just happy to see you had the good sense not to get involved with him. I know it was probably tempting as hell with the offer he made. Besides, you know how you can be sometimes. I’m proud that you told your wild side to stuff it.”
My insides twisted with guilt, and a lump the size of a fist lodged itself in my throat. “Um…yeah. Me too. But I’m still wondering why he was so interested in me.”
“I’m not sure. Gabriel seems to know, but there’s still a lot he doesn’t want to tell me yet.”
“Holy shit. Gabriel. What happened last night?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but he’s what’s called a celestial shifter. Which is just a fancy way of saying he’s an angel. He says he’s something called guardian class.”
“Wait, so he really is your guardian angel?”
It sounded absolutely ridiculously in my mouth. I’d known Gabriel since my freshmen year of college. And Mel had known him since they were kids. They met when he’d saved her from drowning when she was little. Which, in hindsight, made a lot more sense now. “Holy shit, Mel. You fucked your guardian angel. Girl, that has got to be against the rules.”
“I think we’re off the hook. But Gabe is acting strange. I think he has to kiss ass for a while to make sure he can keep his wings. I also think Lucifer is somehow involved. Gabe’s not telling me how but he did tell me to tell you to stay away from Lucifer.”
“Uh, yeah. Of course. Who would willingly get involved with the devil?” I gave a nervous laugh.
“Jess. I know you’re worried about your dad, but this isn’t the way to get him help.”
“Relax. I’m not seriously considering taking Lucifer up on his deal. The devil offers you a contract you know it isn’t for some job.” I cast the contract on my nightstand a nervous look. Just then, my phone buzzed. I pulled it away from my ear to see a text from an unknown number.
“Morning, Kitten. Had some time to think over our arrangement?”
“Mel, I have to go.”
“Jess. I know life has been stressful for you, so you’ve been kind of throwing caution to the wind lately. Just don’t do it with this, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll come over soon, alright? I have to get a load of Gabe’s wings for myself.”
“Alright. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hung up and stared at the screen for a second, my chest tightening with unease. Why did it feel like I had lied to her? I wasn’t actually considering taking the devil up on his deal. I didn’t even know what he really wanted. Part of me was morbidly curious, and the other part wanted nothing to do with him. I was a maelstrom of emotions, terrified by the kind of consequences I’d reap by agreeing to whatever deal he was offering me. Yet something inside me had come alive the second I’d laid eyes on him.
It’s like I knew the kind of devastation he could inflict. How perfect he could ruin me and put me back together just so he could do it all over again.
Whatever he was after, I was half inclined to give it. Especially if it meant saving my dad.
For now, I had to sit on it. Even Reckless Jess had to mull over something as momentous as selling yourself to the devil.
Shoving Lucifer and his contract to the far reaches of my mind, I showered, dressed, and an hour later, I had a Pyrex dish filled with the two fat spinach and mushroom omelets I’d whipped up while waiting for my hair to air-dry. I walked outside and groaned as the bright spring sunshine slammed into me like a semi-truck. It’s not like I wasn’t accustomed to Saturday morning headaches, but they were usually due to a wicked hangover from a night of debauchery and bad decisions. Not because I tossed and turned all night, teased by half-nightmare, half-bliss-induced dreams about making a dirty business arrangement with the King of Hell.
I didn’t have a far walk. I closed my door behind me and strode across my porch to the next duplex over where my dad lived. I balanced the Pyrex dish on my thigh as I dug out his housekey. I was about the stab it into the door lock, but the door opened before I could get the key in.
“Dad,” I admonished him with a tut of my tongue. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
Lawrence Sims was a good man, a fantastic father. My mother ran out on us when I was just a baby, and ever since, he’d rocked the single dad role like a champ. He’d always put me first. He was somewhat of a religious man himself, but ever since he came down with pancreatic cancer, I stopped believing in any kind of higher power. At least not one that cared about us.
Dad was getting worse by the day. Chemo had helped at first, but now it was useless against the tumors, and it only made him violently ill. In any case, he was too weak for it now. We’d been to countless doctors, and they all delivered the same heart-crushing news. There was nothing to be done now except make him comfortable. At this rate, he had another three to six months left. Six if we were lucky.
We were never lucky.
Most of his blond hair had fallen out from the chemo and grown back only in patches. His eyes were sunken in, his body so thin it was almost skeletal. His Seattle Mariners t-shirt and brown khaki shorts he wore were practically a tent on him. He held his body in a way that made it clear it was a struggle for him to stand at the moment, and his pale blue eyes swam with pain.
“Don’t be silly. I can still answer my own door. Oh, kiddo, you look like you got hit by a bus. I know I’m one to talk, but I have an excuse.”
He shuffled away from the door, dragging his oxygen tank behind him with effort like it weighed a thousand pounds. He wheezed with every inhale, the surgical tubing in his nose whistling with each labored breath, each exhale rattling from his chest.
I hated seeing him like this, knowing each day that passed could never come back and that each breath he took might as well be a countdown to the inevitable.
“I’m just tired… I didn’t sleep well last night,” I edged as I moved into the kitchen, shutting the door behind me with my hip. “Where’s Patty?”
I looked around the corner into the living room, looking for the weekend nurse we’d hired when I couldn’t be here to look after him. At first, I hadn’t wanted to hire her, feeling bad that I, a nurse, couldn’t be there on the weekends to take care of my own dad. But he’d insisted I spend most of the weekend away from him. Insisted I still had a life that didn’t revolve around him.
“She made a quick run to the pharmacy to pick up some meds for me. She’ll be back soon. I told you, you don’t have to come checking up on me on the weekends when you should be out having fun.”
“I wanted to come see you just for a quick hello. I made breakfast.” I held up the Pyrex dish and gave it a little enthusiastic shake. “Omelets. Hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m feeling kind of nauseated this morning, kiddo. But thank you for making food. You’re so sweet. I don’t deserve you, Jess.”
“Stop that. You deserve so much more than me.”
I hadn’t planned on crying today. Most days, I didn’t, and if I did, it was rarely in front of Dad. I tried to stay strong for him, even if I was faking it. I was faking it for both of us.
“Hey, Jessica. Aw, sweetheart, don’t cry.” He shuffled forward and wrapped his boney arms around me.
“I’m going to start staying here on the weekends again so I can help you with anything you need. Besides, Patty is great, but she’s a bit expensive.”
“Hey, what did we talk about?” He pulled me back into his arms to give me that “cut that bullshit” look he’d given me back when I was just a kid. “You need to live your life, honey. That hospital is working you so hard. Then you come here at night and make me food and clean and take care of me. You need some time for yourself. As long as you stay safe, you deserve to be doing the things you want to be doing. Me and the hospital, we’re not your ball and chain, honey.”
“All I want is more time with you, Dad,” I sniffed.
“Oh, honey. We spend lots of time together. But you deserve to go out and be a twenty-something for once. You busted your butt in college, then you started your job, then I got sick. You’ve been shouldering the bills…” He turned his head away from me, and by the wobble of his voice, I knew he was close to tears himself. “I don’t want to be what holds you back, Alright? So no more crying. I’m proud of you, and I want to start seeing you put yourself first. I’ll be fine.”
A sharp stab of guilt twisted my belly like a dull knife. “Alright.”
“Do you wanna eat your omelet in the living room, kiddo? We can watch the Mariner’s game together.”
“I thought they played last night.”
He looked back over his shoulder to grin at me, the tears gone, and his eyes shining, and for a moment, chasing all the shadows away. “They did. I taped it so we could watch it together.”
My heart throbbed hard in my chest as I watched the most important person in my life hobble into the living room, excited to watch the baseball game. He loved the Mainers, and ever since we moved to Seattle right after Mom left, it was something we’d always done together.
I’d miss that.
I’d miss everything.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I clutched the Pyrex to my chest and followed him into the living room. “Sure, Dad.”
I couldn’t really pay attention, not with a hundred thoughts flying around in my head. With my dad distracted by number twenty smashing a home run, I set my half-eaten omelet on the TV dinner stand he basically lived off of and pulled my phone out of my pocket.
I had told myself the moment I saw Lucifer’s text that I was going to ignore it. But as soon as I read it, I knew that was a lie.
So Lucifer really was the devil, and that in itself was a little scary. But everything he offered was just too appealing to flat out deny. And it wasn’t just his offer to help my father, whatever that entailed exactly.
It was the swirly, warm feeling in my heart—and other parts—that I couldn’t shake. I’d never believed in the love at first sight bullshit. As someone who’d never really had more than one-night stands, I didn’t really believe in true love at all. Maybe what Mel and Gabe had was something close to it, even if it was the weirdest relationship I’d ever heard of. But the only way I could really describe this feeling inside me was something similar to what cheesy Hallmark movies always portrayed. That warm, fuzzy feeling, like you were floating and like you suddenly belonged. Although there were also emotions he invoked that were very not on-brand for Hallmark, a sweaty, wild lust that made me imagine the devil in scenarios that would have me stoned or burned if I’d been born a few centuries earlier. It was like my stupid vagina didn’t know that she’d fallen for the freaking King of Hell.
The traitorous cunt.
And that warm, bubbly feeling made no damn sense after the exchange we’d had. It was erotic and full of promises. Dangerous promises.
Like he knew he already had me.
Damn it. The smug bastard. Why did he want me of all people? I’d been wearing scrubs of all things and probably smelled like nitrile gloves and disinfectant.
I stared at the text for several minutes, typing something then erasing it multiple times before settling on something safe and innocent.
“Who dis?”
He responded so quickly, I was sure he’d broken some kind of typing record.
“Very cute, Jessica. How many deals are you striking with dastardly handsome kings to confuse me with another? I warn you, I am a very jealous creature.”
I snorted at the “dastardly handsome” and typed my response.
“How did you get my number? Did you read my mind?”
“No, that’s not quite how it works. I recently acquired a company that specializes in developing security and background check software.”
“Is that why you came to…Earth?”
“I’m not an alien, Jessica.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Not quite. I’m a celestial shifter, an angel, as your people call it. At least, I was until my father stole my wings.”
I swallowed hard at the prospect that he was talking about God. I cast a side-eye at my dad, wondering what he would think about all this. Not that I would ever tell him.
“So you can’t fly anymore. What else does it mean that you don’t have your wings?”
“It means I can’t let lose my true self. My true nature. My animal. My angelic spirit. It has a lot of names. Most of us just call it our inner beast.”
A lump swelled in my throat. Beast. Why did that word excite me so much?
“You didn’t answer my other question. Why are you here? It can’t be for the Seattle real estate market alone. As cool as that must be, owning Hell has to be better.”
He texted me a “LOL,” which just seemed really weird knowing who it came from.
“I did not come here for that, no. You have a lot of questions, naturally. Let’s meet for dinner tonight. We can discuss our arrangement in depth.”
“Sorry, I try not to make a habit of dating the devil.”
“Oh, is this a date now? ;)”
“Oh, come on. What else do you want from me besides getting in my pants? I’m not stupid enough to think this is just over a job. You can’t be that hard up for a human employee.”
“Clever girl. As it so happens, I am that hard up, but not for an employee. I want you. I’ll have my man pick you up at seven.”
“Wait, I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Oh, Kitten, your mind was made up the moment you texted me back. Seven o’clock. The restaurant has a dress code. Black tie.”
I was about to text him back, telling him I didn’t have anything black tie. My wardrobe was filled with cheap crap from cheap fashion stores and scrubs. Cute, but not exactly the sort of thing you’d wear to a mysterious dinner date with the devil. A heartbeat later, another text came in as if he could read my mind from here.
“Check your porch.”
What?
“Hey, Dad. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
He glanced over at me, his gaze dropping to my phone. “Is that a boy?”
“Um, no, it’s Mel.”
He lifted a skeptical brow. “Then why are you blushing?”
Shit. “Uh… I’ll tell her you said hi.”
He rolled his eyes, not believing me for a second. “Alright. You and Mel better use protection.”
“Oh my God, Dad.”
He chuckled and waved me away. “Have fun, kiddo. Love you. And stay safe. The city is dangerous these days. All sorts of monsters running loose.”
There was that stab of guilt again. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be safe. Love you too.”
Outside, sure enough, there was a package waiting on my doorstep.
“What the—”
I scanned the street for any sign of the person who’d dropped it off. It was probably one of Lucifer’s lackeys who’d delivered it. How had they gotten here so fast? How did they know where I lived?
Grumbling, I recalled Lucifer’s background check software company. I stooped to pick up the package and went back into my half of the duplex.
Setting the box down, I searched for some scissors from the junk drawer. “There can’t be any good precedent of people excepting mysterious packages from Satan and having it turn out alright, but hey, carpe diem, right?” I muttered to myself.
Opening the box, I pulled out a white paper bag with red ribbon straps. “Holy shit, Alexander McQueen.” Opening the bag, I pulled out a scarlet red floor-length evening dress. It had thin shoulder straps, a plunging neckline, and a scandalous slit running all the way up to where my hipbone would sit.
I hated how much I loved it.
Toward the bottom of the bag was a handwritten note that sat on a pair of black Louboutin stilettos. I wasn’t sure why I felt anything at all, looking at Lucifer’s handwriting. But somehow, there was something to his slanted script, with its sweeping flourish and the thick, ink-blotted lines. It was somehow elegant yet heavy-handed all at once.
“I loved seeing this color on your cheeks last night. You look absolutely sinful in red.” ~L
I held the dress in my hand and squeezed my eyes shut as I leaned against the counter.
What am I doing?
Dating a playboy millionaire was one thing. But going out with freaking Satan to discuss the life of my father in exchange for something…? Something Lucifer wanted. It sure as fuck wasn’t my help at the bar.
I read the note again. My body flushed red, apparently his favorite color on me. I don’t know what pissed me off more, the fact that he thought he could buy me off or the fact that I was actually considering letting him try.
Whatever he wanted from me, it was something huge. Probably dirty. A fist squeezed my heart as I set down the dress and picked up the contract. I’d always thought contracts from the devil were supposed to be written in blood or something. Like on ancient parchment with maybe a poof of fire and a floating pen, with a big ominous X where I’m supposed to sign my soul away at the bottom. This contract was neatly folded printer paper.