Days of New: The Complete Collection (Serials 1-5) (34 page)

His demons had followed Clark’s car from the compound. They’d reported back to him earlier today with the news that Maya was alone; Clark and Zarachiel had set off to check on the cave after a long argument about who would accompany him. The demon had asked Lucifer if “Master wanted the creature to kill the small girl.” Lucifer had executed the demon for even thinking the thought.

He’d come alone to the safe house for obvious reasons, and he’d warned his demons that if any of them even lifted a finger toward Maya, they would suffer a fate worse than death. And they’d believed him because he’d done it to others before.

As he walked, he made sure to stay away from the normal path the others hiked in and out on. He didn’t want Zarachiel smelling him later. Not that he believed his visit would go unnoticed. After he told Maya the truth, she would likely run screaming straight to Clark and Zarachiel. And all her holy angel friends.

“And you’re going to tell her your real name,” Lucifer said to himself, trying to school his wayward thoughts. This wasn’t a social call. He was coming here with a purpose: the truth. But excitement made his belly quiver, and he couldn’t help peering through the woods for signs of the cabin.

Finally, he stepped into a clearing—a charred clearing—and heard a quick, very feminine gasp. He jerked to a stop and looked around.

“Lucian, is that you?”

Even her voice helped ease his headache. Maya stood on the front porch, her light brown hair loose around her shoulders, bright eyes snapping in the afternoon sun. She turned to watch him walk in from the side of the cabin, though he was careful to keep his movements slow so he didn’t startle her. “It is,” he called back, grimacing on the inside. So much for starting out with the truth.

Maya was quiet for a moment, and Lucifer had the horrible sinking feeling that she’d already figured him out. Finally she asked, “Are you here for Clark? To take him back?”

He told himself not to do it, but the words were already tumbling out. “I am, but not to take him back. I was told to follow him and make sure he was okay,” Lucifer lied. “Is he here?”

“No,” Maya said carefully. “He and Zarachiel are looking for Camille.”

Her name sent splinters through Lucifer’s aching head. This morning, on his way out of the house, he’d passed by the dining room. He’d tried to keep his eyes averted, but he’d still caught a glimpse. He hadn’t been able to make out Camille’s body from the blood coating the hardwood, likely ruining it. The room smelled of blood and bone. He’d possibly killed her last night.

He’d lost control.

But Camille had laughed at him.
Laughed
at the thought of him and Maya. He’d snapped. Gone too far. Made her scream for too long. A slice of pain shot up from the base of his neck to the spot right between his eyes.

“The Descendants were worried about him. Did he say when he would be back?” he asked, but even he heard the strain in his voice.

“They said this evening.” Maya walked down the porch steps and crossed over the burnt yard to Lucifer. She stopped a tentative few feet from him and looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. He was careful to keep his back turned away from her, where his wings were hidden beneath the dead Descendant’s army coat.

“He just left you out here all alone?” Lucifer gritted his teeth. There were bad things in the woods, like his demons. Like him.

“I feel safe here. Hey, are you okay? You look really pale.”

“Headache,” Lucifer managed.

“Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you some tea.”

She reached for his arm, but Lucifer jerked away. He craved her touch badly, but after what he’d done to Camille, he couldn’t bear for Maya to touch his tainted skin. He was dirty. Ruined. He couldn’t go inside the house either because he couldn’t risk Zarachiel smelling him. And in the sun, the light would shield Maya’s view of his black eyes.

“I need the fresh air,” he said instead.

“Do you need anything to eat? We don’t have much, but I could make you a sandwich.”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Maya laughed, clearly shocked at his question. She thought he was joking, and she smiled up at him, her beautiful face branding itself into his memory forever. He told himself that was all he needed, to see her smile. That he was ready to walk away now. But her smile slowly faded when she realized he’d been serious. “You were coming to force Clark to go back, weren’t you?”

Now was his chance; he should tell her the truth now. But it wouldn’t come. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe he could push her away instead. If he was too weak to say the words, he could scare her away. The tension eased in his chest at the thought. He was good at pushing people away.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

“Were you going to hurt him when he went back?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t the right sin, but he felt better for admitting it.

Carefully, she put her hand on his shoulder. “But I can’t let you go after him. He needs to find her. He loves her.”

I think I killed her
. But Lucifer couldn’t say those words aloud either. “I can wait.”

“But you’re different from the other Descendants,” Maya said. “Do they make you do their dirty work?”

“Yes.”

Maya mulled that over for a moment. Slowly, her eyes met Lucifer’s and he didn’t look away. “That night of the attack, the Descendants sent you to kill the Nephilim, didn’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

Lucifer knew the answer, knew it so well that it burned up his throat and banged against the back of his teeth. He opened his mouth and breathed out the word. “You.”

A shy smile played across her lips. He’d flattered her. “I think you would’ve stopped anyway. You don’t strike me as a bad man.”

“I’ve done a lot of bad things. I still do.”

“Why don’t you just stop?”

Lucifer finally looked away, his head pulsing with pain. “Because there’s a part of me—a big part—that wants to do those things.”

Maya took his hand and held it tight. “I don’t believe that.”

“You should,” Lucifer whispered, keeping his voice low and menacing. Now was his chance, she’d assumed the worst of him. Time to prove her right. He tried to ignore the pounding of his heart. “I’m not good, Maya,” he said, taking a step closer to her. She didn’t move away like he’d expected. “I like doing bad things. That’s why they send me.” He stepped even closer, but she still didn’t move.

Maya leaned in real close, narrowing her eyes at him. He didn’t try to hide from her or look away. She scrutinized him, tore through his matter until she was staring at his soul. With a sniff and a shrug, she said, “Eh. You don’t scare me.”

With a growl, he grabbed her upper arms and lifted her, propelling them back against the stair railing. Maya gasped when her back collided with the wood, but Lucifer didn’t give her a chance to breathe. He pushed himself up against her until his body was melded to every inch of her. Her heart slammed against his chest and her ragged breaths hissed past his ear. He told himself that he didn’t like it when she lifted her chin so she could stare up at his face, meeting his eyes with her own excited ones. Her lips parted, tongue sliding and licking along her pouty bottom lip. He traced her tongue’s movement, feeling his body temperature going through the roof. Finally, he met her eyes again. She’d noticed him watching her, and she liked it.

“I should scare you,” he said, leaning over her so that she was arched into him. Never before had a woman turned him on so much, especially one in a long, plain dress and oversized coat. But he was now; he felt himself growing hard, knew she had to feel it too. “You shouldn’t let strange men do this to you in the woods.”

“Do what?” she breathed, and he knew it was a taunt by the way her lips twitched into a tiny smirk.

This wasn’t going the way he planned, but he sure as hell was liking the way it’d turned out.

“This,” he hissed, releasing his arms and shoving his hands into the depths of her coat until he found her narrow waist. He dragged his fingers up her ribs until he was perilously close to cupping her breasts. When that didn’t get a reaction from her, he slammed her harder against the railing and shoved a hand between her legs. His eyes closed at her heat; he could feel her moistness through her dress. “This too,” he said, voice rasping.

“I like when you touch me,” Maya managed, though her voice hitched in the middle of her words when Lucifer flexed his fingers.

She arched farther against him, rocking her hips. Her body melted perfectly against his, and everything inside him screamed to grab the hem of her dress and yank it up to her waist. He wanted to be inside of her; he wanted all of her. He wanted her under him and then beside him, then kneeling in front of him. He wanted everything.

He must have said it out loud because she let out a breathy moan. “Yes.”

He couldn’t bear it another moment. He slammed his mouth against hers, shoving his tongue inside. She met him for every stroke, letting him consume and devour her. The rougher he got, the more she writhed against him, groaning into his mouth. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and raked his teeth over the wet flesh. Her hands gripped his shirt, tugging him closer and closer until they were ready to tumble over the railing.

They couldn’t be any closer. Lucifer felt like if he even breathed any deeper, he would be crawling right up inside her mouth. He broke away from their savage kiss with a snarl. He knew his expression was vicious as he stared down at her—the look had sent plenty of demons and fallen angels cowering, but her swollen lips twisted into an almost drunk grin.

“Something is wrong with you,” he said, raking his fingers against her core again until her hips spasmed.

“I know.” She jerked his shirt again to pull him back down to her mouth.

He was ready to oblige, his hand was already hitching up her dress, when a crack, like a bolt of lightning, shook the clearing. Maya tore away from him with gasp, her eyes wide and afraid. Lucifer spun around a second later, jerking Maya back behind him, using the railing to keep her safe.

“Michaela,” he growled.

The Angel of Death rose from her crouched position, where she’d landed with enough force to create a gigantic crater in the ground. She stepped out of it and stalked toward Lucifer. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her voice icy.

“Just visiting friends.”

Michaela’s expression was lethal, like she could take him out with one word alone. She looked ready to kill him, and he had no doubt she would try. “You have no friends here,” she said, spitting the words.

Maya shifted behind him, peering around his arm. He felt her body relax. “Oh, it’s okay, Lucian. Michaela is a friend of Clark’s. You’re here to help us find Camille?” Maya asked Michaela.

The Angel of Death’s eyebrow cocked, her gaze flicking back to Lucifer. “Lucian. Really? Is this your new game now?”

“Leave it, Michaela,” Lucifer warned. He had to struggle with Maya to keep her behind his back, but he didn’t trust Michaela, and every instinct he had commanded that he keep Maya close.

“No, I won’t. Let her go.”

“What’s going on?” Maya asked, wiggling against his grip on her.

“I wasn’t here to hurt her,” Lucifer said, trying to keep the anger from his voice. It wasn’t working.

“You’ll do anything to hurt Clark. But I won’t let you use her.” Michaela drew to a stop a few yards from where he stood with Maya.

“That’s not—” Lucifer cut off as Maya jerked free from him. He let her go, forcing his hands to stay at his sides.

“Wait,” Maya said, stepping between them, like she thought she had to protect him instead of the other way around. “What’s going on?”

“He’s name isn’t Lucian, Nephil.”

Lucifer growled, the sound drawing Maya’s attention. Her eyes flickered between him and Michaela, doubt laden in her expression. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly, her gaze lingering on him.

He needed to do this, not Michaela. He wouldn’t let that angel take yet another thing from him. “I lied to you. My name isn’t Lucian.” And refusing to look weak or frightened in front of Maya, he straightened, pulling his broad shoulders back as he pulled off the dead Descendant’s army coat. His dark wings expanded, arching toward the sky, the black feathers almost glimmering in the sunlight. “It’s Lucifer.”

There was a long beat of silence, like Maya was waffling between shock and disbelief. Eventually, her shock won out. “What?” Maya’s mouth fell open. “You’re…you’re
him
?”

“I’m sorry for lying.”

“You’re not a Descendant?” Maya asked, still completely shocked.

“That’s really what he told you?” Michaela laughed. “Step out of the way, Nephil. It’s time I took care of him once and for all.”

Michaela drew her bone sword and stepped toward Lucifer. In that moment, Maya snapped out of her shock and reacted before Lucifer could push her out of the way. She stepped in front of him and faced off with Michaela like she was the enemy and shouted, “Stop!”

Michaela drew up, cocking her head to the side. Lucifer was just as confused, but something fluttered inside him that felt a lot like hope. “Excuse me?” Michaela asked.