AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why?”
“Because you’re an angel. Ariel said you were the most powerful one. To me, that means that, of all the factions, you’re the only one who can take on Lucifer. I’ll give you this”—digging her hand in the front pocket of her jeans, Becca pulled out a folded sheet of paper—“if you’ll agree to protect me against him.”
Honestly, he would’ve immediately agreed to do it if only because his instincts were begging him to grab her, to touch her, to kiss her, to claim her. Soothing her worry and her fear was another bonus; he was a fallen angel, but even if he had a long-standing distaste for the other factions, he hated to see another soul in pain.
Especially if she was his soulmate.
It didn’t even matter what was on that sheet, though when Becca admitted it was the exact wording of the curse as best as she’d been able to pin down, he found himself eager to grab it.
But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and asked, “And why exactly would I need to protect you?”
It was a valid question. And from the way the little color left in her face drained away, Raze almost regretted asking it.
Almost.
If this was a set-up, he needed to know what he was getting into. A curse was one thing. Welcoming a demoness into his casino, especially one who was looking for protection from Lucifer… he had to ask.
And no, it had nothing to do with an intense desire to learn everything about Becca, why do you ask?
She shuddered out a breath. “Because Lucifer owns my soul. I left the Pit and I don’t want to go back, but if he discovers that I’m staying up here, he’ll come after me. And,” she added, daring a glimpse up at Raze’s gruff expression, “if he knows that I gave you a copy of the curse, he’ll make me pay for betraying him.”
Forget the drink. Raze needed to be stone-cold sober to finish the rest of this conversation.
Becca was his soulmate. He knew it to the depths of his being. What the fuck did she mean that Lucifer owned hers?
“How the hell did he get his hands on your soul?”
She flinched, turning away. Despite being so very pale, twin spots of pink rose high on her cheeks. Nervousness became shame as she admitted, “I was young. Stupid. I fell in love”—oof, not what he wanted to hear when he was fighting the instinct to run away with her only minutes after he first laid eyes on her—“with the wrong man. He promised me anything if only I’d give him everything. I did. I sold my soul for that man only to have him disappear on me. That was, oh, so many years ago, but I’ve sworn all other men off completely ever since. Especially after my time in the Pit and… and, Jesus, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”
Raze did. Because Becca instinctively recognized Raze, too, even if she couldn’t quite understand why. Lucifer might have tricked her into signing away her soul and making her one of his demons, but that only meant he did Raze a favor. Instead of being a mortal who lived, then died before he ever met her, Becca was an immortal demoness who’d found a way to break free of the Pit—the demons’ name for their corner of Hell—if only long enough to have this meeting.
She was right, though. Even if she wasn’t his soulmate, Raze’s celestial aura—coupled with his brothers and the angels he employed at the casino—was at least enough to shield her for as long as she wanted to hide from Lucifer.
Of course, that meant she needed to be near him for his aura to cover hers. A room in the Twilight Sphere hotel—the huge, faction-run hotel that housed all of the Twilight properties including this bar and Raze’s casino—for a start, and maybe a job. He could hide her in plain sight, give her something to do, and then retreat to his office where he could put some distance between them.
He’d protect her. For so many reasons—and, okay, one of them had everything to do with the paper clutched tightly between her slender fingers and the faint hope that it might be the answer to his weakening powers—he’d protect her.
But claim her?
Admit to her—or any other soul—that she was his soulmate?
Make a move on a female who was obviously afraid, on the run, and who just said earnestly that she’d sworn off all males?
No. He couldn’t.
So he wouldn’t.
“What did you do for Lucifer?”
Her eyes skittered back to him. She looked surprised that Raze didn’t comment on her confession, but she was quick to follow his lead and change the subject.
And if he also experienced the hope welling up in her, Raze stoically pretended that he couldn’t.
“I’m a low-level demon. For six out of seven days, I spend sixteen hours at my desk, assigning souls to their torment. On the seventh, I’m allowed to come back to Purgatory and try to tempt men to sin. Not the best job, I know, but I had a quota. If I didn’t meet it...” She dropped her gaze to her lap, the fingers on her right hand running over the rosary beads wrapped around her left. Raze got the idea that it was a reflexive gesture, one that Becca did out of habit. “Anyway, that’s how I was able to come here today. If I’m not back in the Pit by sun-up, Lucifer will know I’ve gone rogue.”
Tempt men to sin… she was doing a number on him right now, for sure. And, from the waves of lust coming from many of the other patrons in the bar, he wasn’t the only one. Becca was the perfect package: she had the beauty, the innocent edge, and the sultry pout that men would gladly sell their souls to kiss—or more.
“If you know anything about me, you know that I own House of Sin. I’m also not a true angel, but one of the Fallen. Tempting sinners is practically the family business. You’d fit in well there, Becca.”
