The Devil in Her Eyes Ch. 01

The bar was quiet; a few regulars sat and smoked, spread out among the sparse tables, a welcoming smell of booze, old wood, and cigarettes wafted through the air. A bar at the end of the world was a little cliche, but this was close. I lit a smoke of my own, taking another drink off of my steadily warming beer; the room spun a little, a side effect of the whiskey shots that had kicked the evening off.

I'd needed a drink; that much was certain.

I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror behind the bar, hair a little too long, eyes just a bit too haggard.

It ain't the years, baby... it's the miles.

I had more miles on me than most, barely out of my twenties, and I'd experienced more death, horror, and sadness than any man has a right to. The worst part? There wasn't a point to any of it; I hadn't suffered for any noble cause, hadn't nearly lost my mind in a herculean effort against insurmountable odds.

I'd just been unlucky.

My innocence lost at eighteen; seeing evil up close tended to do that. My health after fought cancer and won, twice. But even that win felt like a loss when my marriage crumbled in front of me. Loneliness, pain, and self-loathing followed, years of it.

A deep drag off my cigarette probably took a few months off my life; I couldn't be bothered to care anymore. A couple of drunks chattered about the game at the end of the bar, but the bar was still, other lost souls like me, killing time.

The door popped open, bringing the winter with it and drawing eyes from every corner. I glanced up at the mirror when she blew in.

I put her at around late twenties; long silvery hair and high cheekbones lent an almost regal look to a beautiful face, pale skin, a pretty swoop of a nose, and large eyes that seemed to glow softly in the dim light as they surveyed the room before locking onto mine. Her full lips quirked into a small smile at my gaze; I felt my mouth hanging open at...everything about her. A fire welled up in my chest as I looked her over, a smartly cut black coat over a red blouse, down to black dress pants that hugged her long legs, terminating in a pair of black heels.

I wasn't alone, everyone in the place was staring at the newcomer, but when she stepped off, the confidence in her stride, combined with the almost smug look in her eyes as she stared me down, told the tale.

She couldn't care less about what they thought; she was on a mission.


I swiveled in my stool as she approached; it struck me just how tall she was, I push six-two, and she looked to be at least six-foot. Her eyes never left mine, and I couldn't bring myself to tear my gaze away from her beautiful green eyes.

"Hello, Zack." Her voice was low, raspy, and undeniably sexy.

I fumbled for a reply; I'd never seen her before in my life; how in the world did she know my name?

She smirked, her deep red lips twisting cutely, "Don't think about it too hard. You don't know me, but I certainly know you. Is this seat taken?" She waved at the stool next to me, and I shook my head dumbly, still at a loss as she shrugged out of her jacket, revealing a figure that sparked something inside of me that I hadn't bothered with for years.

Her slacks clung to her wide hips, the curve of her ass was a sight to behold; I found myself wondering what she tasted like as my eyes made their way up to her blood-red shirt, a few buttons straining to hold back a sizable bust.

I finally found the words as she slid onto the stool, "How do you know my name?" My voice was raw, too many years smoking.

She swiveled to face me, eyes sparkling as a soft sigh spilled from her lips, "I'm afraid that a lady has to have her secrets...for now. Will you be able to content yourself with a drink from a lovely stranger?" Her eyelashes fluttered coquettishly, and my heart sped up.

"S-sure," I cursed the quaver in my voice.

Her smile went wider, genuine happiness written across every line, "Wonderful, bartender? May I have a glass of wine? Red if you have it, and something for my... friend." She favored me with a questioning look.

"Glass of whiskey, Rick."

Rick scooped his jaw up off the floor, shaking it off with a mild blush, "Sure thing."

He pulled the wine into the glass, glancing in the mirror at her as he worked; I couldn't blame him, there was something ethereal about her, you almost couldn't look away. My whiskey came next, the dark amber liquid swirled into a tumbler, a small splash of water, and he set both of the glasses in front of us with a long look at my guest.

For my part, I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she sipped at her wine daintily, those ruby-red lips pursing around the rim of the glass, mystified at how she made it look so sensual. Her eyes flashed playfully at me, and I remembered my own drink; a long sip followed, the burn followed by a pleasant warmth that diffused throughout my body.

She set her glass on the bar, "Call me, Lucy." Her voice was more of a purr.

I'd never had a woman come onto me so blatantly, or at all really, so it was with a lot of effort and barely contained stammering as I extended my hand. But when her smaller hand slipped into mine, all my faux-smoothness went right out the window to die in the Montana blizzard, murdered by the warmth from her skin.

"A p-pleasure, to m-meet you, Lucy."

Real smooth... dipshit.

Her smile only widened at my nerves, the purr never left her voice, and her eyes never left mine; a theme was developing here, "Oh, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."

I was putty in her hands, literally, even as a small voice screamed at me that everything about this was off. She took another dainty sip of her wine, regarding me over her glass. Any chance I had to look like I had my shit together was gone. So nobody was as surprised as me when she didn't let go of my hand.

"You have questions, and I promise that I will answer every single one, but first..." The music that thrummed out of the shitty old jukebox changed got louder, clearer, and her eyes flashed at me again, "... dance with me?"

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, my protesting mind ringing warning bells, but nothing came out.

She took my silence for assent, setting her glass down and sliding off the stool, gently tugging my arm.

Like I had a choice.

I gave in, sliding out of my jacket, leaving it folded on the bar; Rick wouldn't mind. My black t-shirt was tight against the muscle I'd been able to pack on (which was less than I'd like). My blue jeans were dingy from overuse and apathy, and my old cowboy boots were scuffed to hell, a stark contrast to the seemingly expensive outfit she was sporting. For the first time in a very long time, I felt self-conscious about the way I looked.

Lucy didn't even spare my shabby attire a second look as she led me to the...dance-floor is the wrong word...to the slightly more open area of the bar.

All eyes were on us as the music changed again, the notes seeming to drift through me; Lucy kept ahold of my hand, turning to face me, her eyes shone. A flurry of emotions slipped across her face as she gently guided my hands to her hips, finally relinquishing her grip on my hand and wrapping her arms around my neck, so close now that I could feel the heat from her.

I could smell her perfume now, a sharp floral scent that seeped into my sinuses and made it hard to think. That little voice had gotten louder.

The hell is going on here?

We gently swayed to strains of Ashley Monroe; her body was electric under my touch, a soft sigh more akin to a moan slipped from her throat as I tightened my grip and started getting a little more complex with my steps.

Her lips parted slightly, and I was already thinking about kissing her, "I want to see some life in those eyes... lead, and I'll follow..."

I almost stopped dead at the obvious innuendo from this beauty in my arms. I didn't respond, opting to twirl her gently; she giggled and went with it, her heels clacking softly on the hardwood. When I pulled her close again, she darted forward and kissed me, hot and needy, the song petered out, and she held the kiss, her fingers finding their way into my hair, pulling me in tighter.

I was barely maintaining; her lips felt like they were on fire, the softest thing I'd ever felt, but with an edge, electric doesn't even begin to describe it. It felt like every nerve in my body lit up at once, and I softly moaned into her mouth, her tongue invaded the space in a flash, and I wasn't sure who was flying this plane anymore. The bar all but disappeared around me; nothing mattered but her at that moment.

We finally came up for air; my eyes stayed closed as I tried to process what the hell had just happened. A soft sniffle broke me out of my reverie; when I opened my eyes, she looked a little rumpled, her chest heaving, but it was her eyes that threw me off.

Lucy was crying, tears gathering in the corner of her pretty eyes, a perfectly manicured hand had shot up to cover her mouth.

I tried to play it off, "I know I'm out of practice, but..."

Her whisper was lost for a moment; I barely caught it.

"I've waited so long to do that."

Now I needed answers, that was the most amazing kiss of my life, and this mystery beauty was going to spill it. I grabbed her hand, ignoring her gasp, slapped a fifty on the bar, scooped both of our jackets, and walked out into the snow-covered parking lot, ignoring the whistles from the regulars.

I let her hand go and threw her jacket around her shoulders, confused or not; I wasn't an asshole.

But I was a little pissed.

"The fuck is going on here?"

Her tears were still wet on her porcelain cheeks; she pulled a blood-red handkerchief from the inside pocket of her jacket and wiped them away, pausing for a moment before she began to speak.

"If you want the truth, then I have one request," I nodded, "Not here. I have a place nearby. If you can trust me enough, I promise you you'll get the answers to everything."

All of her earlier playfulness was gone; even the cool confidence had fled, the whole thing was giving me whiplash, but her gaze was almost pleading.

Did I really care if she was some psycho who was going to cut me up and sell my organs?

Not as much as I should have.

And then there was that kiss.

"Fine, let's go; I brought my truck."

Hope bloomed in her eyes, a smile fighting its way onto her face bringing something that looked like relief.

"Follow me then."

She spun on a heel and walked to her car, and holy hell, what a car.

A sleek black Maybach sat near the curb, looking dangerous. The doors popped as she hit the fob, sliding in behind the wheel with a glance over her shoulder.

I waited for her to shut the door and walked to my old truck; the '05 F-350 had been a gift from a lifetime ago. I climbed in, the engine came to life with a roar, and I backed up, flashing my hi-beams. The Maybach slid out of the spot with a lot more grace than my rig. She pulled out onto the snowy road, I followed close behind.

What the hell am I thinking?

But if I was honest, she stoked something in me, and for good or ill, I wanted to see what lay at the end of this rainbow. I lit a cigarette, and my hand glided over to the glovebox, where my 1911 was tucked inside; I dropped it on the passenger seat.

Just in case.

We drove for about twenty minutes, snowy main road giving way to snowy backroad that wound up the side of a hill. The trees were thick, and I wondered again if she would kill me when we got where we were going.

A house loomed out of the darkness, bigger than any place I'd lived in combined, all wide windows and beautiful view. She went right in the massive roundabout driveway, and I followed suit, killing the engine. I let my hands rest on the wheel for a moment, her ride illuminated in my headlights. The car had been a big tip, but the house clinched it; there was more money here than I'd ever see in my life.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Getting some answers for questions, I didn't know I had.

Here goes nothing.

I popped my door, sliding out onto the cobblestone, keeping the door between her and me, and sliding my gun into my waistband.

She stepped out of the low-slung luxury rig; her long legs preceded her by a few seconds, heels clicking on the ice; she gave me a look that was half smoldering, half afraid, and beckoned me to follow with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. Her hips swayed as she walked away, casting small glances over her shoulder to make sure I was still there.

"Fucking hell," I whispered and stepped off, following her into the dark house.

"Lights," Lucy called out as we stepped through the front door, the place lit up like Christmas, illuminating desert ironwood floors, suitably high ceilings, and bits of furniture that looked as though they'd stepped out of the eighteenth century. I'd always been a history nerd, majoring in Archaeology in college; I placed the piano at somewhere around mid-1700s, the side tables at late-Victorian.

None of it made any sense, this woman was incredibly wealthy, incredibly beautiful, and if the little looks she kept flashing me as she slipped off her heels were any indication, she was completely besotted with me.

Not a lick of sense.

"You have a beautiful home," I whispered, keeping my boots on, life-altering kiss or no, something was wrong.

She smiled at me with a touch of trepidation crossing her beautiful face.

"Thank you."

She padded forward, stopping a few feet from me, nerves radiating from her.

"I promised you answers, but first, maybe we can get comfortable? May I offer you a glass of wine, maybe something stronger?"

The words were spilling out in a rush; I held up a hand to stop her.

"Listen, I came here out of some sense of morbid curiosity, that kiss was... amazing, and I can tell that you obviously have some feelings for me, despite the fact that I've never seen you before in my fucking life. Now tell me what I want to know, and I'll decide whether I want to get comfortable or not."

Her face had run the gamut during my little speech, from hopeful to hurt, to cautious. She heaved a sigh, closing her eyes as she spoke.

"I've been watching you for years, the ups and downs of your life, cheering you on during the good times, watching with a broken heart during the trials. All the while wishing and hoping for a way to reach out to you, to save you somehow."

When her eyes opened, they were as red as her shirt, glowing softly. Horns curled their way from under her hair, jet black and wicked looking.

"You see, there are things even I can't do."

My hands moved of their own accord, leveling the gun at the bridge of her nose; the snapping of the safety coming off was almost thunderous as my heart pounded in my ears. I adjusted my grip slightly, taking the slack out of the trigger.

"What the fuck are you?" I whispered, my voice small and terrified.

Her eyes locked onto mine, tears welling up, "I'm someone who loves you; I know every deep dark secret you have, every fear, everything you want from life, and everything it took from you. It all just makes me want you more."

She took a hesitant step forward, and I stepped back, not pointing the gun at her anymore, but I wasn't pointing it away from her either. She continued, tears rolled down her cheeks, sizzling where they hit the floor.

"I've watched you and your soul since you were born, Zack; you know what I am."

She sucked in a shuddering breath, reaching a hand out for me.

"My name... is Lucifer."

Holy shit.

Somewhere inside me, I knew she wasn't lying.

I turned and ran out the door, feet thundering across the ice, slipping and rolling before shooting back up and rocketing towards my truck.

"ZACK, WAIT!" Her sobbing plea followed me across the cold night.

I wrenched the door open and leaped inside, not even all the way in my seat before I turned the key, throwing it in reverse and gunning it. I flipped a bootleg and accelerated down the road, not stopping for a moment to look back.

She was the goddamned Devil, I knew in my heart that she was, all the pieces snapped into place, and even I couldn't blame the whiskey for her eyes or those horns.

I was hyperventilating a little as I dug for a smoke, the world tilting as I drove, the winding road stretched out ahead of me; I lit it and tried to stop my hands from shaking.

I felt the slide start as I took a corner a bit too fast for the icy road, the studded tires slipped out from under me, I dropped my smoke, trying to correct and failing miserably. In a cacophony of shattering glass and pain, I smashed into a tree, feeling the truck start to roll over as my vision tunneled, and everything went black...