Beloved Evil

ELEVEN

The next day after lunch, Tara was standing in front of the doors that lead to the throne room, anxiously pulling at her apron as the soldiers looked her over.

She couldn't see much of them due to their amour, but she noticed their eyes that landed on her chest, exposed due to Igor's angry hands. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back an angry comment.

The big doors slowly opened, revealing the black room to her once again. She hesitantly walked inside, her shoes sending an echo throughout the room as they hit the marble floor.

She looked around, trying to see if she could spot Lucifer, but the room was dark even though it was in the middle of the day.

She heard someone snap their fingers, and from one second to the next, the candles were lit by giant flames. She gasped, taking a step back as the room got illuminated, making it clear to her that Lucifer was sitting in the lounge area, back hunched over.

The flames of the candles shrunk back to their normal size and she timidly walked over to the man, the doors loudly closing behind her.

He looked up as she approached him, his eyes immediately landing upon her torn neckline and her cut knees, even though they were nothing more than a few scratches. His eyes slowly traveled up her body again before finding her eyes.

"Did you forget that you're to curtsy when you approach me?"

Tara opened her mouth but quickly closed it again, curtsying so deep that it probably looked ridiculous. As she looked at Lucifer, she could see that he felt the same. He had a small smile on his lips, almost microscopic. She immediately stood straight.

He laid the paper he had in his hand on the table and leaned back, suddenly growing twice in size due to his previous bend-over position. He was once again clad in black, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, showing off his large forearms, veins poking out to look at her, reminding her that they could turn black at any moment. She couldn't help but look at his head, wondering where the horns came from.

"I heard you made a new friend," he said, looking at her with that unreadable expression.

Tara furrowed her brows, wondering if he was talking about Esther. Did he know what she had remembered?

"Igor," he clarified, watching as her face made a small grimace at his name, "my brother told me about your little meeting yesterday."

Tara gulped and nodded, feeling rather exposed under his burning gaze. She was growing more used to his red eyes though, having seen them so many times by now. She wondered why none of the other demons had them. She had seen purple and green and lots of regular human colors, but she had never seen anyone else with those burning, red orbs.

"I could take you off deliver-duty and make you a pleasure slave instead, if you'd like?" he said, standing up from the chair. His large body made him even more intimidating, her neck immediately craning upwards to meet his eye.

"No, please."

Her voice came out like a pathetic stutter. She gulped, licking her dry lips. Her faith was in the hands of the man in front of her, and she didn't trust him not to let her slip through his fingers.

"Please don't do that," she tried again, "I'm very happy with the job I have now."

He hummed, walking over to the bar table to make himself a drink.

"I won't. For now."

He dropped a few ice cubes in a glass, a strong scent immediately filling the room as he popped open a bottle. He noticed she was starring.