Page 2 of Falling for the Devil
Chapter 2
The Universe Collides
Lucifer hadn’t expected the battle with Magnus—entertainment for the lowercase gods—to be half as difficult as it had been. Obviously, he was out of shape. He’d spent too much time on diplomatic efforts the last century or two when he should’ve been fighting alongside his brothers. But that was no excuse. He should’ve cleaved the man’s head from his shoulders within moments.
The battle won, he longed for a respite from the villainous fiends before having to confront their leader, the king of the lesser gods, Zeus. He had not been sent there for fun and games, but the bastard had insisted he prove his merit in a grudge match against Ares. Except the god of war had been too frightened to do the deed himself and had sent in his second in command, Magnus, who in turn had brought in twenty-plus fighters with him.
The deafening cheering, and a few boos, of the crowds—mortal and god alike—surprised him. Shouldn’t they have all wanted Magnus to defeat him? Maybe the warrior was not as revered as he made himself out to be. The audacity of the gods’ and their underlings’ egos baffled him. Surely, they knew their place in the universe was tedious at best.
Still, it warmed something inside him to know the majority of those cheers were for him. He never sought out praise, for it was not proper to do so. Angels did not yearn for accolades, but the lowly gods fed on it like manna from the heavens. It gave them strength, purpose, and privileges even though they were not earned.
Lucifer felt eyes on him. Of course, eyes were on him. He was the victor in the middle of the arena. Everyone’s eyes were on him. There was something more... intense filtering through the air like a cool mist floating over pristine crystal waters, but with an energy surge that caused goosebumps to rise on his flesh under all the heavy armor.
He stripped off the iron helmet he had been given. Zeus had not wanted him to be recognized so he had complied by putting on the atrocious thing in lieu of his favored angelic head protection that he had worn in every battle since the beginning of time itself. They had not insisted he change out of his own light golden armor. His hair—matted with sweat—swept down to cover his eyes. He raised his hand to smooth it behind his ear. The crowd roared louder.
Perhaps they do know who I am? Perhaps they yearn for me to set them free from the selfish rule of the gods who set themselves on high to look down from their dais upon the masses.
He bowed, his sword rose high in the air, then turned and repeated the process until he had completed a full circle. A wide grin crept up his face, growing with each subtle pivot. His chest stuck out further than necessary. The power of their adulation spiraled from every direction to fuse with his own aura. It was exhilarating! A feeling he had never before allowed himself to experience.
Yes, he was the Creator’s most beautiful and loved son. He was adored, worshipped even by lesser angels, some mortals, and other forms of life throughout the universe. But he’d never let it go to his head. Pride was a grave sin. Lucifer would never allow this sin to attach itself to him. Just this once, though, he desired to show off his win, if only to piss off the not-so-mighty Zeus.
Lucifer stopped in his bowing once he knew he was aligned with the dais. When he looked up, he expected to lock eyes with angry gods, but he never made it that far. Transfixed as if frozen by time stood the most beautiful creature he had ever encountered—and he was supposed to be the most beautiful!
Eyes of warm honey glowed from a porcelain face. Not so much as one freckle or scar to mar her flawless complexion. A straight nose in perfect symmetry to the rest of the face. Flushed cheeks, so rosy he imagined its wearer was the reason the flower was named as such. Full, luscious lips formed a perfect cupid’s bow. Those lips had his full attention, particularly from an area he usually did not feel engaged when dealing with lesser entities. All this magnificence was topped by flowing, flaming red hair. He had never witnessed its hue before. Nothing in nature compared to the vision facing him.
And all this just from gazing upon the face of one who should’ve been an angel. He hadn’t even allowed his eyes to glide down to the rest of the beauty before him. Despite a mile or more separating him on the arena floor and this exquisite creature atop the gods’ observation platform, he could clearly see and feel her radiance.
For the first time in all his existence, Lucifer longed to experience what—up until then—humans and gods had enjoyed but had been forbidden to his own kind. The allure of a primal connection of heart, mind, body, and soul tempted him.
And he discovered that he didn’t care if it was a sin.
DIANA’S HAND CAME UP to her throat as the hope the man had kindled in her heart died a quick, tragic death.
An archangel... not just any angel, but the archangel!
If ever the Creator wished to crank up a war, it would be pitting his own beloved against the deities of this world. This warrior who had her body wound up and pulsating in places she’d never experienced was... the enemy.
The enemy.
This must be a joke! Why in all the heavens would the Creator send his precious angel to mingle in the world of the lesser gods? He had rightly given her father and others reign over this realm and over many mortal ones, too.
He had created the angels, then the gods in his image, but had not bestowed free will on His angels. The two entity classes despised each other, for they were both responsible for oversight of the mortals. But only the gods were free to do as they pleased. And if her father was any indication, their priority seemed to be on the more sensual aspects of life. His behavior was abhorrent, regardless of what standard he was held to.
That alone fueled animosity from the angels who looked down their smug noses at her kind. Although mortals did much the same—warred, committed carnal sins, and in so many ways desecrated themselves before the Creator—it was the behavior of the gods that irked the angels because they were supposed to be shiny examples of love, light, and divinity. They were closer to the humans; thus, it was the gods’ duty to care for them.
But they had failed. It wasn’t like none realized the folly. Every god was aware of it. Yet not one cared... except herself and perhaps one or two other female deities. Poor Terra—the goddess of Earth—suffered the most seeing how the behavior of her own family so badly influenced humans, bringing about the Creator’s wrath.
Had He sent the esteemed Archangel of Light, Lucifer, to deal with her own kind once and for all?
The intense heat consuming Diana’s body chilled the moment Apollo uttered the archangel’s name like she had been dunked in glacial waters after roasting in Hades. Of all the angels, he was the one most beloved of the Creator... and the most feared. Known for his beauty and devotion, Lucifer struck down any that did not bow low enough, did not show enough gratitude or faithfulness. He had been the boogeyman in the stories told around the campfires during her youth. Vicious, brutal, and intolerant of disobedience. And it was rumored that he considered the lesser deities to be the epitome of offense to the Source of all.
Her momentary lustful sensations were doused by the horrifying reality of the glorious being staring straight into her own soul. His gaze paralyzed her even though he was far below the dais upon which she stood still clutching her own throat with one hand and the other gripping her brother’s muscular golden arm.
I’m going to vomit. Although spontaneous combustion would not be a terrible thing.
THERE WAS NO RUNNING away now, despite how ill she felt watching Lucifer climb the vast stadium steps to reach the dais and greet his host, her father. She marveled why he didn’t just fly up. Didn’t he have wings, after all?
Instead, every step was purposeful. And with each step, his eyes stayed locked on her own, reigniting the flames within her veins.
