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I climb in and slam the door shut, turning the key, still in the ignition, but the damn thing won’t start. “Damn it.” I slam my fist into the steering wheel, hating that I couldn’t even be allowed the satisfaction of an exit on my terms. My head falls back in frustration, hitting the back of the headrest. “Ouch,” I call out, rubbing the back of my head.
“Need some help?” Luke asks, leaning into the open truck window, smirking at my misfortune. I want to wipe the damn smile from his lips.
“Do I really have to ask? Can you, for once, just do something nice?”
He pops an eyebrow. “Does that sound like me?”
“Ugh,” I moan in irritation, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh. “I’ve killed for smaller infractions, Lucifer. If I were you, I’d be leery.”
He smothers his smile with his fist. “You’re right. I apologize. Let me get this working for you.”
He starts to roll up his sleeves. “Pop the hood, would you?”
My nose crinkles in confusion. “Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?” I ask, getting out of the truck.
“Okayyy. Guess I’m on my own here,” he says, tilting his head to the side and clenching his teeth, before lifting his hand and magically popping it open himself. “There,” he muses. “Now let’s see what’s going on.”
“Use your magic so I can get the hell out of here,” I say, exasperated. “I have an hour-long drive home and I’m tired.”
“I’ve never used my powers with you, and I’m not going to start now. We do this the mortal way.”
“You just used your powers,” I deadpan, motioning toward the opened hood.
He sighs. “That was an unfortunate slip. Won’t happen again.”
I’m still stuck on the wholeI’ve never used my powers with youpart. I’m sure that’s a lie, but I’m struggling to conjure an instance to prove him wrong. He appears so sincere, and herein lies my problem. I’m easily duped by his charm. Or am I being too hard on him? A wise witch did tell me to hear him out, after all. Tonight, however, will not be that night. When I look back, he’s still inspecting the guts of my dead truck.
“Oh my God, Luke, please.”
“Using your creator’s name in vain now, are you?”
“Don’t start,” I say, sounding worn out.
He eyes me curiously. “You aren’t in any position to drive, angel.”
I stiffen at that name. For so many reasons, I hate when he says it. It’s like he’s mocking me, and I instantly want to punch him.
“I’m sorry,Victoria.” he amends. “Let me get you home. I’ll make sure your truck gets back too.”
“I don’t want your help, Lucifer,” I bite, and he frowns.
“You did a moment ago. Don’t be too proud, love. I just want you to get home safe.”
I sigh heavily, wanting to be in my bed, wrapped in my down comforter, away from this being that confuses me on so many levels. “Okay,” I finally acquiesce.
“Okay.” He smiles a closed-lip smile. “Close your eyes, and when you wake, you’ll be back at your loft.”
“Do you promise?” I level him with a raised brow and thinned lips.
“Where else would I send you?” His nose is scrunched, as if I just insulted him on the highest level.
“Just promise. No funny business.”
He nods. “Home. To your feather bed.Alone.” He stresses the last word as though he has any control over who ends up in my bed.
I do as he instructs, and right before anything happens, I realize what he’s just said.
The asshole knows where I live.
Of course he does.
