Soul Conquered (8 page)

Grace

I exit the elevator with Randy
and follow him past the big tiger, which eyes me with distrust. I think about how
hard it must be to always be on display like that with no privacy, then realize
I’m not much different when it comes to Lucifer. But those thoughts are pushed
from my mind when I round the corner and walk through the glass doors.

The casino is unlike any place I’ve ever experienced.
I mean, sure, I’ve seen casinos on TV, but the reality is so much more
dizzying. The chaos envelops me the moment the doors
whoosh
open. A cloud
of smoke. Colors, designs, and lights. The movement of hundreds of people, like
a swarm of ants. The array of sounds—from music and chatter to
dings
and
bells—are all just a bit too loud. The entirety takes my breath away, and I pause
until Randy offers his arm and escorts me through the horde like a bodyguard
until we reach a stairway roped off by red velvet and flanked by bouncers in
tailored blue suits and sunglasses.

Randy nudges me. “Show ‘em your money, baby.” I open
my small beaded purse and flash a stack of hundred-dollar bills at them. One
nods almost imperceptibly, and the other unhooks the rope to let us through.

“High rollers’ club,” Randy whispers, hauling me up
the steps and away from the hubbub below into a whole new kind of insanity.
Here, the music is jazz and the crowd is sparser, but there are still far more people
than I expected on a Wednesday night. We’re all in black tie, including the
dealers. Their only difference in attire is the red garters around their left
arms that indicate their positions. Those and the white earbuds they wear, which
remind me we’re being monitored.

I push away the worry that we might be caught. I can
talk anyone out of filing charges if it comes down to it. Clutching Randy’s
arm, I let him steer us toward the big black-and-red wheel in the center of the
room. There’s a tiny card on the table that reads $100
MINIMUM
. So I take out
the stack of bills and tuck it all in Randy’s pocket with a wink. I need to
keep him happy so he’ll do what Lucifer wants. The quicker he steals from the
casino, the sooner I get to see Noah.

He pulls me in and leans down over me, enveloping me
in the familiar scent that reminds me of Josh. There’s a pang in my chest as he
says, “A kiss for good luck,” and before I can form a coherent thought, his
lips are on mine.

It’s a soft and slow kiss, the kind that means he’s
taking his time to make sure I’m okay with it. His sincerity makes me feel
awful. I only want Josh’s mouth on mine, and I fight not to pull away, knowing
Lucifer expects me to play this role in order to earn time with my brother. I
console myself with the idea that we’re in public, so this can only go so far.
I just hope Josh isn’t watching from up in Heaven.

I kiss him back, then pull away. “Show me what you’ve
got, big guy.”

But the last seat at the table was taken while we kissed,
so now we have to wait until someone gets up. Randy’s already explained that if
I want him to do his misdirection thing, we have to stick to roulette, so it’s
not like I can suggest blackjack instead.

I scan the table as Randy lays a hand against the small
of my back, his long fingers reaching beyond my comfort zone. I have to play it
cool. If I pull away, he’ll be suspicious immediately. So instead I settle back
into his hand, hating myself.

That’s when I spot him in the corner of the table. The
man I stopped from breaking up the wedding.

He’s just as handsome as Randy in his tux, though a
very different type of handsome. His blue eyes remind me of Josh—there I
go thinking of him again.

When he sees me staring, he smiles. “Well, hello, Miss
Scarlet,” he calls across the table, earning annoyed looks from the other
players at the table. Shoot! Why’d I give him a fake name?

“I think I can score a seat. Be right back,” I whisper
to Randy and hurry around to the man’s spot. He’s got several towers of red-and-black
chips in front of him along with a drink that looks and smells a lot like Lucifer’s
favorite whiskey. When he speaks, I can tell he’s already had a few, not just
from the smell but also from the slight cotton-mouthed slur.

“Hey, if it isn’t the helpless girl in the middle of
the road. I guess you made it to Vegas safely.” He smiles, and it’s one of
those practiced, white-toothed grins that must’ve scored him a lot of dates in
high school.

“Guess so,” I say, smiling back. I sneak a glance at
Randy, who’s studying the wheel and other players. I relax a little and tuck a
stray tendril of hair behind my ear. “You were in a hurry when we met before.
Did you make your appointment?”

Something fogs behind his eyes, but his expression
stays plastered on his face. “Nah. But sometimes things aren’t meant to be, you
know? Or maybe some things
are
.” He motions for a waitress, who seems to appear
out of thin air in a tiny maid’s outfit, body parts falling out left and right.
“A Bloody Mary for my friend Scarlet.” He tucks a ten-dollar bill onto her tray,
and she whisks away into the fray.

“Oh, I can’t! I’m sorry, I have a—” But what do
I say? A date? Why is it so difficult to admit that to this stranger? I do want
to get away. I feel horrible that I ruined his life, but another part of me is
curious as to the real story. Curious about why Lucifer would bother…

“No harm, no foul,” he says, standing with a wobble
way too close to me, but there’s no room to move out of the way because of the
crowd around the table.

I throw out my hands automatically to steady him and
find him pressed against me. I swallow. His gaze is very…intense. “What’s your
name?” I whisper, and we’re so close together, I know he hears me even over the
buzz around us.

“Rhett. Here, sit.” I can’t break away from his stare,
and I realize he’s guided me into his seat at the table and is now kneeling
beside me. I barely noticed it arrive, but a deep red drink sits on the table
before me with a celery stalk and a tiny gold napkin.

“Oh. I don’t play,” I say. I need this seat for Randy.
It’s why I came over here.

“Beginner’s luck. Perfect. Go ahead. Think of the
chips as fun money. It’s nothing to me. Just put a handful on your favorite
number.” He guides my hand over to one of his towers, and I take a stack of about
seven chips, which I place on number sixteen. My age when I died.

Rhett throws a few more chips down in various corners
and squares.

“Rhett’s not your real name,” I say when I can’t take
him staring at me any longer. It feels like he’s tearing me apart piece by
piece in his head, like a jigsaw puzzle.

“Scarlet isn’t yours. I guess we all come to Vegas to
lose ourselves. Or maybe find our real selves,” he leans in and whispers, his
breath tickling my ear and making me shiver.

“I better let you get back to your boyfriend, or he’s
going to get jealous.”

Randy. I almost forgot all about him. I glance around,
not seeing him for a moment, and panic sets in. Then I feel a hand on my
shoulder, and a backward glance tells me it’s him. I turn back toward Rhett, determined
to introduce him, but he’s gone. Vanished, just like the waitress.

I shake my head, trying to clear it as the dealer
calls, “Number sixteen. The lady wins!” The next thing I know there’s a new
stack of “fun money” shoved in front of me. I stand and motion for Randy to
take my place. He closes the space between us and pulls me into his body again.
“You sure? You’re doing pretty well yourself, baby.”

“I want to see you work your magic,” I say, recalling
Lucifer’s command, the pain, and the desire to talk to and save my brother. I
practically shove him into the seat and take a quick gulp of the drink Rhett
ordered for me. I’ve never loved tomato juice, but I’m not in it for the taste.
I need to calm my nerves.

Randy takes advantage of my distraction and pulls me
onto his lap, large hand wrapped around my waist. “You’re my good luck charm,
baby.” I force a giggle as he tosses a stack of chips onto number thirty-two
and take another swig.

I wonder what Randy saw between Rhett and me, and then
I wonder why it matters at all. I suck on the bottom of the celery stalk and
close my eyes. The atmosphere and the drink are dousing everything in a layer
of fuzz like a cozy blanket. Randy’s body is warm behind me. He feels like an
anchor stopping me from floating away.

“You okay, babe?” Randy’s voice brings me out of it,
and I turn, cuddling against him. He feels good and safe.

“Yeah. How are we doing?” I ask.

“Patience. We got this. And when we’ve made our money,
I’m gonna give you a gift.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask. I can’t help but smile.
Randy’s not a bad guy. He really is trying to impress me.

“It’s waiting upstairs.” He gives me a quick peck and
puts some chips on twenty-three.

“When did you have time to do that?” I ask, seriously
perplexed.

“I have people.”

“People, huh?” This time when I giggle, it’s for real.

“Winner number twenty-three!” More chips are shoved in
front of us. I notice Randy’s hand below the table, adjusting something. His
chocolate eyes meet mine.

“This is seriously comfortable, babe. But you should
probably do your distraction thing.”

I nod and stand, his hand continuing to steady me.
Then I slip behind him and around the table toward the dealer, whose shrewd
expression makes me think he may already be suspicious. I glance at a middle-aged
man sitting halfway around the table with a grim expression and a comb-over.
His tux is worn, like it’s seen better days, and his chips are almost gone.
I feel guilty instantly, but I try to think like Keira for a moment. I can
almost hear her tell me what an asshole he is. How he bankrupted his wife and
kids, and then left because of his gambling problem. How he probably steals to
pay for each fix.

It’s harder to catch his eye than I anticipate. He’s
so intent on the tiny silver ball skipping from number to number. But I slide
my hands down over his shoulders onto his chest. He jerks slightly and looks
shocked when he sees me.

I smile. Bat my eyes.

“May I help you?” he asks.

I turn on the glamour. “Yes. First, answer this
question truthfully: are you a good person?” I have to know.

“No.”

“Would you honestly describe yourself as an asshole?”

“Yes.”

I feel a bit better now about what I’m going to do. “Soon
the dealer’s going to realize the ball is magnetic. When that happens, you’re
going to stand up quickly and accidentally drop this magnet. You won’t remember
how you got it, or whether you did it.” I drop the magnet into his inside
jacket pocket and move on. Randy’s the one who replaced the real ball with a
magnet. He’s the one manipulating the wheel. But if the dealer finds out it’s
him, I won’t get to see Noah.

So I choose this guy instead.

How to corrupt and ruin a life 101
.
I get an
A
.

Keira

Lucifer is angry, which does
not bode well for me. Every time he reaches one end of his throne room and
turns around, the torches flare, bathing everything in a sickly blue glow. I
hug myself as he paces before me, but it’s a poor substitute for Noah’s strong
arms. If I weren’t so scared, I’d laugh at that thought, since it’s ridiculous
to picture Noah able to defend me against Lucifer.

Finally, he stops before me, the blue flames behind him
stretching nearly to the ceiling. “Do you have
feelings
for him?”

I look him in his fathomless eyes and speak with a
clear and confident voice.

“No.”

Lucifer stares back for quite awhile, but I don’t
waver. I know without a doubt that saying yes would result in unendurable
horror.

“If you are lying…”

“Would I risk that?” I snort. “I’ve experienced the
consequences for much less, not to mention I learned my lesson about men a long
time ago.”

“So if I told you to kill him?” Lucifer asks, moving
closer so that he’s literally a breath away.

I stand my ground, meeting his stare. “Then I would do
it.” He couldn’t really want to go through all of those years of searching for
the Antichrist again and fighting with Heaven just because he’s annoyed at
Noah, right?

Lucifer nods. “Good. However, I want him alive for now.
Yet I cannot simply forget that he’s challenged me.” He roars the end of the
sentence so sudden and loud that I have to cover my ears.

Lucifer recovers his cool in a flash. He stands,
grinning and fixing his cufflinks, which today are tiny golden skulls. “It
would make things easier if we destroyed his confidence.”

I don’t respond, but inside, my heart pounds. What’s
he planning? Why can’t he just let us be together?

“Here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to make
him fall in love with you.”

I nod and shrug. No biggie. He better be. I can’t
believe Lucifer doesn’t see it. But since when is the Boss concerned with love?

“Then you will listen for treasonous language when he
opens up to you.”

I nod again. As if I’d report that.

“And when I give the word? You break his heart. It
shouldn’t be difficult for you—after all, it’s your specialty.”

“Yes, Boss.” I stand tall, looking eager to please as
always, but inside I’m searching my mind for a way out of my instructions that
won’t result in my eternal torment. Because being without Noah is the same
thing.

Lucifer’s hand shoots out, grasping my upper arm.
Every molecule that he touches burns with white-hot pain. Like fire, but worse.
I cry out and fall to my knees.

“I want him so pathetic and lost that he will do
whatever I say. Do you understand me, Keira?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“There is no room for mistakes here. I promise that if
you so much as consider disobeying me, I will make sure that you and anyone you
may
care about are separated and tortured for the rest of eternity.”

I shake my head up and down desperately, unable to
form any more words. Tears blur my vision. If I were human, I would have passed
out by now.

Then his hand is at his side like it never happened, except
for the smoke curling up from my flesh, where a glowing handprint slowly fades.
I’m afraid to touch it.

“Now get back to Noah and make him fall hopelessly in
love.”

Lucifer throws out a hand, and I find myself suddenly in
Noah’s room, where he sleeps soundly in the bed, shadowed by the leather
throne. I slide quickly in next to him, eager to feel him against me so I can
center myself.

I hug him from behind, and he nuzzles into me, making
a happy noise in his sleep—a contented sigh, like when you bite into a
delicious piece of food. I can’t help but smile at this little thing that means
so much.

Brushing the hair from his face, I kiss him softly on
the cheek and settle back down to sleep beside him. But I guess that’s not good
enough because my arm flares again like Lucifer’s touched me, and I yelp,
making Noah spring up in bed.

“Keira?” he asks, chest heaving in a delicious way.
“Are you okay?”

I think fast. Lucifer is watching. “I must’ve had a
nightmare. Would you mind holding me?” I pout my lower lip.

He smiles, and the world lights up even before he lies
back and pulls me into his arms. I press my face to his bare skin and inhale
his scent, which makes me giddy.

“What did you dream about?” he asks, stroking my back.

“About losing you,” I say, and I feel the warm tears
break through again. I hope Lucifer sees it as a performance, but it’s the
truth.

Noah tips my chin up to look at me, and there is so
much love in his eyes that it’s hard to understand how this man could possibly
be the Antichrist. Then again, I’m a Demon, crying in his bed. What a pair.

“You won’t lose me, Keira. I promise. There is no one
in this world or the next who can take you away from me.”

I shudder against him because I know Lucifer heard
that, and I’ll have to repeat it back to him later to show that I’m sincere
about spying. I wish I could scream at Noah right now and tell him to stop
saying such dangerous things.

“Lucifer is more powerful than you give him credit
for.”

“I make him nervous, don’t I?” Noah asks.

My vision blurs and not from tears this time. He needs
to stop before he
does
end up dead—or worse. I want to kick him
under the sheets, but instead I press closer, gripping his back like I can will
him to stop.

But he’s not looking at me anymore—he’s peering
just over my shoulder and has that cold, calculated gleam in his eyes that
injects an extra dose of fear into me. Is he really considering taking on
Lucifer?

I remember what he said before—that he can feel when
Lucifer’s around. Does he know? If so, then he’s completely insane, taunting
Lucifer like that.
You idiot! You must have a death wish.

But he doesn’t really understand. He hasn’t been
through what I’ve been through. He may be the one Lucifer’s been waiting for,
but there’s a limit to what Lucifer will put up with, and he’s dangerously
close. I can feel it.

I have to make it stop, so I pull his mouth down to
mine and part his lips with my own. “Make love to me,” I coo as I pull away.

He rolls over on top of me and shakes his head. “You
know I want to, but I don’t think that’s such a great idea right now.”

“Excuse me?” My eyes burn red. Did he really just
reject me?

He laughs and kisses me while I lay there, confused. Maybe
he really is going insane. “I have some work to do,” he says, and gets out of
bed.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

Noah pauses, tugging on his jeans. “Best time to get
some dirt on a senator, don’t you think?”

I blink. Senator? Who’s talking about a senator?

Noah laughs and pulls on a shirt. “I’m close to
becoming governor. But that’s just the first step. Lucifer’s plan has me there
for a full year before we displace his people. But those are
his
people.
I need my own people, and I need it to happen faster than that. I want to get
to the whole rule-the-world part a lot faster. So I talked to some of my old
contacts—the guys who’ve been freaking out since Hale went missing. They
think the senator’s goons made Hale disappear, because the senator used to be a
customer.”

“But it was you,” I say.

“Yeah.” Noah flexes his fingers. “But the important
information here is that the senator has some secrets he doesn’t want out. I’m
going to get evidence to hold onto until the right moment.” He winks.

“I… I think you should stick to Lucifer’s plan,” I say,
pulling the sheets up to my neck.

“Good to know.” Noah pats my leg like I’m some dumb
dog or something. I feel my eyes burn again. It’s time I exert some of my own
will in this conversation.

“I’m going with you.” I throw the covers off and tug
on my dress.

“The Hell you are.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Technically, I believe I am.”

My mouth hangs open like an idiot. It’s like he just
slapped me across the face. This is exactly what I worried would happen and
that he assured me wouldn’t. He’s turning into Lucifer. He thinks he owns me.

“Keira?” He waves a hand in front of my face.

I grab his wrist and twist it so that he’s completely unbalanced,
teetering on his toes. “I’m going to go. I’m going to protect you, and you are
going to graciously accept it.”

He stares back, dumbfounded for a moment, then
whispers, “I love it when you get your Demon on.”

I release his wrist and begrudgingly let him pull me
in close.

“I want to go alone because I need to prove that I can
handle myself without magical intervention. Besides, I have powers of my own I
can use if it comes to that.”

“You have nothing to prove.”

“Yeah, I do. To myself and to Lucifer. And maybe to
you, too. I can tell you’re still worried about me, Keira. You have nothing to
worry about, and you can’t stop me from doing this.”

He’s right. I can’t. He’s in charge.

“But I hope you won’t try, because this is something I
need.”

I heave a sigh and tap my fingers on my leg. At least he
cares what I think, even if he’s too stubborn to listen. “Fine. I’ll respect
that. But text if you need me, and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“You got it.” He salutes and heads for the door.

The moment he’s out of sight, Lucifer appears in front
of me. I expected this.

“I assume you heard?” I say. “He’s plotting his own
government takedown.”

“Indeed. But you’ve disappointed me, Keira.”

My pulse races. “What? How?”

“You failed. If he were in love with you, he’d have
stayed in the bed.”

My temper flares, but I catch myself before I can say,
Like
you
know anything about love.
The thing is, I’m scared he
might be right. Noah’s like a firework—impossible to hold onto and always
changing. What if he doesn’t really love me? What if he’s using me? Or even
worse: what if he thinks he loves me but doesn’t?

Instead, I say, “I can do better.”

“Oh, I know. And you will. But you’ll spend the next
few hours in the Pit while he runs his silly little errand, just to be sure you
have the proper motivation.”