Falling for Cyn Page 11

  Redemption was a funny thing, Damien thought. He’d been seeking it from his Father for centuries, and now that he finally had it, it didn’t mean as much as he thought it would. He was grateful for it, but he craved it from Cynthia. The fact she wasn’t answering his calls said he didn’t have it, nor would he get it. So what was redemption good for, if not from the one he loved?

  He wanted to protect her, to see her smile, craved feeding off her intelligence, her laughter. But it wouldn’t happen, not until he got her to talk to him. But he couldn’t figure out how to do that.

  So, in lieu of redemption from Cyn, Damien hit the streets, trying to find it from others.

  Damien hung out in grocery store parking lots, helping people with groceries. He helped a lady with a walker up the stairs to the museum. He saved a little girl from getting hit by a car, when she crossed the street without looking. He fed stray dogs and cats. He cleaned up alleyways around dumpsters. He gave food and money to homeless people. He even donated the money to the city to build a new homeless shelter, with enough funds to keep it staffed and supplied for a decade.

  And it did feel good, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Because Cynthia couldn’t see him doing the good things and know he’d changed.

  Damien knew that was the wrong attitude to have, that he shouldn’t do good for an ulterior purpose. But at the moment, that was all he had.

  A week later, Damien found himself in his cave, looking around at all the souls of the damned. Their faces screamed at him from the dark walls. There was a time in is existence where this would have excited him, or given him a sort of peace, a sense of purpose. But now, they were all just so… distracting.

  He was on edge, but the edge of what? He didn’t know, couldn’t understand what was happening to him. He thought he might have turned human completely, but the fact he was here was testament to the negative.

  Looking at one face in particular, he remembered the details clearly. It was a woman he’d tricked into prostituting herself for money to buy a purse she’d wanted. It hadn’t been difficult, but she wasn’t an inherently bad person, just greedy enough to want to have sex for a purse. He’d only given people what they wanted, for a price. But it had been tricks. He’d been a fisher of men, casting his net of deceit. None of it was genuine.

  Holding out his hand, he pointed to her anguished face and said, “I release you.” Immediately, she stopped screaming and the red face turned an incandescent white before disconnecting from the wall and floating up through the roof of the cave.

  The screams stopped briefly as the other faces watched her before they started up again. One by one, Damien freed the souls he himself had trapped there with his trickery, and let them float to where they could find peace.

  When he was finished, he felt lighter somehow, and it was less raucous in his cave. Damien didn’t know exactly why he released the souls, except he’d felt compelled to do so and felt better for it afterward. Was this part of the plan? Was he redeemed now? Would she see him for who he is instead of who he was?

  His peace was shattered by a voice, that of Azazel. “I hear you’re retiring. Couldn’t hack it, could you?”

  He’d buried the demon so deeply, Damien didn’t think he’d ever see the light of the cave again, yet here he was, taunting him.

  “You fucked up. It’s not that I can’t hack it, it’s that I want more. You were satisfied with this existence, you shouldn’t have taken advantage of it.” He was tired and didn’t want to be baited.

  The guttural voice snarled at him from the rocks of the cave walls. “You never could be as evil as me…”

  “Why would I need to? People are bad enough. They don’t need either of us.” Azazel was the original evil, the one from the Old Testament of the book humans lived by. The temptation, the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah, most of the evils which had been attributed to Damien were actually Azazel’s handiwork. The Boss had cast him into Hell and replaced him with Damien as ruler of the damned. Of course, everyone seemed to forget about that. It wasn’t written anywhere popular.

  Azazel’s voice lowered to a deceptively gentle tone, but Damien wasn’t fooled. “You’ve fallen into the tender trap, have you?” It was like he was trying to be the wise voice of experience, and Damien waited for the baiting. “You realize what that means? Humanity, marriage, only fucking one woman the rest of your life…” Damien’s heart leapt at the thought, in spite of himself. Then Azazel went for the kill. “Of course, now that she knows what you are…”

  If Azazel was in a physical form, Damien would have choked him. As it was, he could only roar at the walls which trapped the demon. “What do you know?”

  A chuckle answered him. “More than you realize. I hear things. See them, too. You got a hot little number there, and your tastes seem to get her off.” He paused while Damien contemplated the futility of putting him deeper in the bowels of the earth. “What would happen if you REALLY let go with her? Oh, that’s right… she’s already left you.”

  That was it. With an inhuman howl, Damien added layer after layer of rock to Azazel’s prison, until his deafening laughter was a dull rumble. Then he added one more. He felt slightly better but had to focus on the good he’d done down here to get it completely out of his mind.

  Of course, he couldn’t stop thinking about Cynthia. His Cynthia.

  He’d stopped trying to call her a week ago, frustrated by his futile attempts. He needed to catch her out and about somehow, but security was tight at work, and she never really went out. He’d have to watch her apartment and see if he could catch her there.

  Driving the Porsche over to her place, he followed the fading tug in his gut. It was faint, but she wasn’t at her apartment; she was at a nearby restaurant.

  He found her but wished he hadn’t.

  Cynthia finally succumbed to Cody’s repeated invitations to dinner. She could have used the excuse that she didn’t date co-workers, but she’d gone out with the guy from HR a couple of months ago, so that wasn’t really valid. She tried the whole, ‘I’m getting over a relationship’ angle with him, but he’d resisted that, insisting he could help.

  But he wasn’t.

  Granted, he was the opposite of Damien in every way. He was a golden boy—light hair, fair skin, blue eyes. Before she’d met Damien, she would have considered Cody fit, but now, in comparison, he was a bit doughy around the edges. And he was a cowboy. Those had never attracted her, and she didn’t realize he was so inclined until he picked her up in an overpriced diesel, wearing jeans and shit-kicker boots, blaring some song about honky tonk booties.

  Thankfully, he’d turned the radio down for her to hike into her seat, using the bar for leverage, still nearly killing herself in the process.

  Dinner itself was okay. He took her to a barbecue place in town known for its ribs. While delicious, it wasn’t the perfect first date type place she would have liked to go, but for his part, Cody was a great conversationalist. He managed to get her to open up about things she hadn’t really told anyone.

  “So, why did you try to pull the plug on the fragrance?” His honest face said something to her that Damien’s never had. In her comparison mode she couldn’t seem to shake herself from, Cynthia compared his openness to Damien’s. Where Damien had always seemed to be hiding something, Cody wasn’t. It was obvious he liked her and wanted her honest opinion.

  “It just suddenly seemed deceitful, like we’re playing with people’s emotions. By counterfeiting people’s physical responses to love, we’re trying to give them an experience they’re not really having. I can think of all sorts of scenarios where that would be a bad thing. It’s like we’re trying to upset the balance of nature or something. It’s hard to explain.”

  “I think I understand.”

  “Yeah, it did it to you. Remember when I wore it that one time?”

  He smiled, and then she watched a blush climb his cheeks. “Yeah. I do. Honestly, though, I’ve liked you forever, but that day I nearly came unglued
being around you. It was pretty intense.”

  “Exactly. What if were a barely repressed rapist or someone who had a hard time with impulse control issues?” She shivered. “It just seems like we’re playing with fire or something. But Mr. Burkhalter won’t let it drop, so I’ve only got to hope the FDA finds some major allergen in it or something.”

  “Or you could wreck the batch.”

  That idea had merit, but she couldn’t really ponder it much because her senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of Damien wafting under her nose. Cody’s eyes went wide as he stared at someone behind her, and Cynthia knew, without a doubt, Damien was there for her.

  When his hand fell on her shoulder, Cynthia’s body responded whether she wanted it to or not. Memories of that heavy hand touching the rest of her body floated unbidden through her mind, then coursed through her veins, causing heat to curl in her core and her nipples to tighten to pebbles. She inhaled deeply, desperately trying to catch her breath as well as her emotions, but all she could smell was his burning scent of pure, unadulterated man.

  Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she placed it on the table and offered Cody a weak smile. “Excuse me just a moment, please?”

  Cody’s smile had tightened as something fierce stole across his eyes, putting a decidedly irritated look to his features. “Sure. Take your time,” he bit out.

  She mouthed, “Sorry,” as she got up and followed Damien outside the front of the restaurant.

  “You’re interrupting my date.” She wanted to sound angry at his interference but knew she hadn’t given him much choice. He wanted to talk to her and had been trying for a while now. She’d been ignoring him because she knew how hard he would be to resist.

  “We really need to talk, Cyn.”

  She was proud of how firm her voice sounded while her insides quivered like Jell-O. She wasn’t scared of him; she was terrified of her own weakness around him. “Not now.”

  “Then after. I can meet you at your place when he takes you home.” His voice took on a more defiant tone. She knew he wasn’t going to let up, but she had to try.

  “No.”

  “We have to talk. You need to listen to me. I won’t go away.”

  “I believe we’ve said all there is to say, Damien.”

  “We haven’t said a damn thing.” The oily black depths of his eyes shimmered with anger, but Cynthia knew it wasn’t directed at her. It still spoke of his power, sending awareness of who exactly she was dealing with rippling through her.

  This time, when she spoke, her voice held a tinge of the weakness she felt. “I know who you are, and I can’t have a relationship with you. There’s nothing left to say. That’s it.” She was trying so hard to stand her ground but knew she was losing. Her chest felt tight, and she knew she’d be crying by the end of the night.

  “I’m not who I used to be. You’ve got to let me talk. I’m not going anywhere.” Damien lost the angry edge, but he seemed to gain intensity off the weakness she’d shown.

  Cynthia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No. I don’t.” Her voice sounded stronger now, thank goodness.

  Damien grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look him square in the face. The face that held nothing but honesty, his eyebrows raised in desperation. “Then at least listen to your own heart, Cyn. It’s not lying to you, even if you think I am.”

  He was right, and she knew it, but she had to stick to her own volition, a wish to be left alone by whatever means necessary. She had to think some more, wrap her newly healed brain around Damien. “How can I believe anything you say, Damien? Anything? You have a long history of deceiving people, so how can I trust you?”

  He looked like she’d slapped him, recoiling even. “You used to trust me.” His voice was a whisper she might not have heard if she wasn’t watching his lips move.

  She backed up a step. “Well, call me fickle. Things change.” Turning, she heard the words come out of her mouth she never wanted to say. “Goodbye, Damien.”

  “Wait.” He clutched her arm and spun her back to him, his lips capturing hers in a scorching kiss. Holding her head so she couldn’t move away if she’d even wanted to, he kissed her like his life depended on it. His lips melded to hers in a way nobody’s ever had before, and Cynthia melted into their last kiss. Damien’s grip tightened as she whimpered, and he hauled her against his hard body that she’d only moments before compared to Cody’s softer one. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, and she succumbed to the wild abandon of the kiss, knowing it was a kiss goodbye.

  “I didn’t realize I’d have to compete with this for your affections,” a wry voice sounded behind her, and she belatedly realized Damien’s hand had snaked below her skirt and was clutching her thigh against his erection. She was grinding into it wantonly but extricated herself at the sound of Cody’s voice.

  “Um, sorry, Cody.” Embarrassed, she wiped at her mouth, trying to erase the evidence of her own lost inhibitions.

  “Yeah, sorry.” Damien’s black gaze stripped her. “Won’t happen again.” He spun on his heel and stalked off down the street. Cynthia shook her head to clear it of the muddle. She felt about two inches tall, the lowest of human beings for spurning the advances of the Devil.

  Cody looked at her carefully. “That the ex you’re having a hard time getting over?” He shook his head to himself. “Should have known it was too easy.” He held out his hand, a friendly smile on his face. “I’ll take you home, unless you want to go in and pretend that didn’t happen and have some more awkward conversations about work?”

  “Yeah, I’ll choose home, please, for six hundred, Alex.” She offered a weak smile, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. It was impossible. Damien’s kiss was branded on her like a permanent mark she would wear for eternity. She glowed with it. But she’d turned him away for someone safe, who most certainly was not Satan.

  Cody dropped her off, walking her to her door. When she invited him inside for coffee, he shook his head. “No, I’m going to go home with what little pride I have intact. Thanks for an eye-opening evening, Cynthia.” With one final wave, he turned and trotted down the steps.

  After her disastrous attempt at dating to get Damien out of her head, Cynthia gave up trying. Days felt like weeks, weeks passed like months. Time slowed so she felt like she was moving every day through an enormous bowl of oatmeal; everything was just so hard. And everywhere she went, she thought she saw Damien, or smelled him, or heard his deep laughter in a crowd behind her.

  She knew he probably wasn’t sticking around to stalk her, not like the beginning, when she’d teased him about being creepy. He’d probably moved on, found another woman to fall for, been assigned a new ‘love’ by God.

  Her own life was progressing, whether she liked it or not. The fragrance was still in the first round of testing and no results had been provided yet. She didn’t really care. Her Magnum Opus didn’t seem like that big of a deal anymore. She’d been in love and it sucked. Why would people pay for a bottle of stuff that would rip their heart out with a spoon, pour it onto the ground, stomp it to shreds, then try to stuff the remains into the gaping cavity of her chest, never to beat the same way again?

  She wouldn’t. That was for sure.

  One night, over a month after her date with Cody, she was walking to her car from her office. She’d stayed late, working on a new fragrance for some football superstar. He wanted something that smelled expensive, classy, masculine, and sporty. Cynthia had spent the evening typing up her preliminary suggestions and faxing them to his PA before heading home. He was supposed to meet with her later in the week to discuss it, so tomorrow would be filled with readying samples for him to try before the final mix.

  It wasn’t a difficult project, but a welcome distraction nonetheless. The whole office was abuzz at his imminent arrival, the women wanting to glimpse his pretty boy features while the men wanted to brush against his superstar status. Cody, especially, was excited about the prospect of meeting him.

&nbs
p; This is what her thoughts were wrapped in as she walked in the dusky darkness, which was why she didn’t realize she was being followed. When a hand gripped her around her shoulders, pinning her against a hard, foul-smelling body, she reacted with a scream, thrashing like a wild woman.

  She’d almost made it to her car, it was five steps away, and she screamed as the futility of her attempts were hitting her. This man was bigger, stronger, and bad, and she had no hope. His hand clamped across her mouth as he dragged her into the shadows.

  Cynthia had never felt unsafe walking to her car before now. Even the kidnapping attempt by the angels hadn’t frightened her this badly. They’d given off some vibe of regret they were doing what they did. But this guy didn’t.

  Yes, this guy had a purpose, and it wasn’t to get her to quit dating. It was a malicious purpose—his grip on her was tight, unrelenting, and she wasn’t getting away from him on her own. The futility of it all sank into her, making her feel weak. Cynthia succumbed to the weakness, part of her giving up completely. She didn’t have a life anymore. What was the point, anyway?

  A flash of red eyes met hers in the darkness, and a voice, husky with disuse, rang from the shadows. The weak light of the moon glinted off iridescent scales as enormous wings unfurled. “Release her.” Her weakness diffused into something akin to hope. But that couldn’t be right. She was only seeing his true self, wasn’t she? This was Damien the demon. True, he was saving her, but it was his demonic form she saw.

  His beautiful, glittering, iridescent form.

  She didn’t know whether to be glad Damien was here or more frightened of his appearance. So she did the only thing she could do. She went limp, collapsing in the arms of her attacker, catching him by surprise. He dropped her, backing away as Damien advanced.

  Cynthia turned to see Damien lift himself into the air and over her, grabbing the man with enormous sharp talons and lift him into the sky, disappearing. She craned her neck to see where they’d disappeared to but was distracted when Damien landed a few feet behind her, yanking her back. When her attacker landed on the ground from whatever height Damien had dropped him, he was dead.