Before he could fire off any more questions about my parents, I asked, “What about you? Why does the King of Las Vegas need to bribe a woman into spending a week with him? I thought you were a billionaire playboy. That’s what the internet says about you, anyway.”
“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.” His expression became distant as he looked out at the water as the fountains splashed a playful rhythm. “I had a great love once. The kind they write books about."
"What happened?" I asked in a hushed voice.
He turned his hypnotic eyes back on me. “I lost her.”
“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying, echoing his words to me a minute ago. The tone of his voice made me think that his great love had passed away, and my heart squeezed in sympathy. I couldn’t imagine having something like that and then losing it.
He gazed at me with unblinking intensity. “Perhaps it will be different this time.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, so I took a long sip of water just as our next course was brought out, some tiny pieces of steak with figs and honey. I’d already forgotten what course number we were on. All I knew was that the food kept coming, and it was all amazing.
I pushed another button in the little box and the fountains started up again, this time dancing to that Celine Dion song from Titanic. Soon another course came, some lamb with kale and asparagus, but I was already so full I could only take a few bites.
“Tell me about your life,” I finally said, once I gave up on trying to eat anymore. “It’s probably a lot more interesting than mine.”
A perfect eyebrow arched up. “What would you like to know?”
“How did you do all this?” I asked, gesturing around us. “This restaurant is obviously very expensive, and we’ve got the place all to ourselves, plus control of the fountains at Bellagio. How?”
“Easy—I own it all.”
My brow furrowed. “I thought you owned The Celestial.”
“That’s what I want most people to believe, but for you, the truth.” He gestured toward The Strip, where I could see the glowing signs of the other casinos through the mist of the fountains. “I own nearly every luxury hotel and casino in Las Vegas. Some through shell companies, so it doesn't seem as though I dominate The Strip quite as much as I do, but for all intents and purposes, Las Vegas is my city."
I sat back in my chair, stunned. I knew he was a powerful billionaire and that he controlled Las Vegas, but to own all of that—damn. “Is that why they call you the King of Las Vegas?”
“One of the reasons.” He paused before sipping his wine. “But that’s not what you really want to know, is it? You want to know why they call me the devil.”
My face grew warm, embarrassed that my thoughts were so obvious, or that he could read me so easily. Of course that was what I wanted to know. I’d heard those whispers—the ones people muttered when they thought I’d turned away and was no longer listening. There were also the rumors about what happened to people who crossed him. “Why do they?”
His eyes flashed with dark humor for a second before he answered. “Because I am the devil. My true name is Lucifer.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously? That’s your birth name? No wonder you go by Lucas. Your parents must have hated you.”
“My father certainly does, but that’s beside the point. I am the Lucifer, formerly known as the Lightbringer, also called Satan, the Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies, King of Hell, and a number of other titles that people have bestowed upon me over the years.”
My laughter faded as I realized he was completely serious. “I’m sorry…what?”
Our server brought our final course, a fruit tart for dessert, while I stared at Lucas. As soon as we were alone again, Lucas picked up his fork, as though we were having a normal conversation. “I realize it’s difficult to believe, but I only speak the truth to you.”
While he took a bite, I could only watch him, my stomach twisting. “You’re trying to tell me you’re actually the devil. Fallen angel. Evil incarnate.”
“You absolutely must try this tart, it’s truly divine. I should know.” He met my eyes again, and this time the look in them made me tremble. “Evil? Probably. Fallen? Definitely.”
Shit, what had I gotten myself into? My thoughts swirled chaotically, and I poked at my tart with my fork as I tried to gain control over them. I was being held captive by a crazy billionaire who believed he was the devil. I should run away right this instant and never look back. But I couldn’t. He was probably the only man in Vegas who could find Brandy, and I’d sacrifice myself any number of times for the safe return of my friend.
“Is that why you make deals?” A nervous laugh bubbled out of me. “Are you going to steal my soul? Should I be afraid?”
“Oh, Hannah. Your soul already belongs to me.” His eyes smoldered and a villainous smile spread across his lips. “And you should be very afraid.”
5
Lucifer
My spoon guided my coffee into a slow swirl in my mug—an exercise in controlled chaos—as I skimmed the newspaper front page. A relic of an older time, but one I refused to give up, even if I managed most of my business online these days. Hell, I still remembered when newspapers were invented. To see new technologies change the world and then become obsolete years later—such was the curse of an immortal.
Besides, the headlines about Earth’s latest problems were a good distraction from thoughts of Hannah. Just knowing she was in my penthouse brought me a sense of calm that had been missing for years, but I was certain she didn’t feel the same. Ever since I’d told her the truth about who I was she’d become closed off and nervous, and had retreated to the guest room as soon as we’d returned from dinner. She didn’t believe me. Not yet. But she would.
As I sipped my coffee I gazed out at the midday sun. Normally I spent my nights awake and slept during the day, as fit my role as Lord of Darkness, though I didn’t need much sleep after all this time. However, with Hannah here, I’d adjusted my schedule to accommodate her mortal needs. Besides, I had plans for us today.
The elevator opened outside the penthouse door with a familiar ping, capturing my attention. Samael walked inside a moment later, his dark brow furrowed as he approached. Like many former angels, he had an ethnically ambiguous look with dark bronze skin and rich brown eyes. Many humans guessed he was Middle Eastern, or perhaps Latino, but the truth was often too much for their fragile mortal brains. Like me, Samael had been born in Heaven, though we’d lived in Hell for much longer. Not that either Heaven or Hell was home anymore.
“Good morning,” he said, in his usual serious tone. “I have an update for you on the missing woman, along with a complete report on Ms. Hannah Thorn.”
I nodded and sipped my coffee as he slid a thick beige folder toward me with Hannah’s name on it. “What have you found?”
“Our surveillance footage of Styx Bar showed Ms. Brandy Higgins sitting with Asmodeus on the night she disappeared.”
My attention piqued, I stopped in the act of opening the folder. Asmodeus was an incubus who ran most of my strip clubs in the city—and Samael’s son, with the Archdemon Lilith. “Is that so?”