Sculpting a Demon (6 page)

“We anticipate quite a turnout,” Mark said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we sold everything on display over the course of the festival.”

Robert Johnson’s
Crossroad Blues
suddenly burst from the speakers, the legendary guitar riff resounding in the otherwise quiet space.

“That’s odd,” Mark said. “The sound system is usually off at this hour.”

Lila shot Arien dirty look. “That’s not funny,” she whispered.

He just grinned and raised one eyebrow at her.

“I’m sure it’s just a glitch,” she said, giving Mark what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Mark scratched his head, obviously concerned. “I should go check on it,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.”

As Lila nodded to Mark, Arien wandered away to stand before one of her larger sculptures.

That particular piece that had taken Lila over a year to complete, and though it had taken a ton of hard, sometimes arduous labor, it was one of her favorites. Two intertwined marble figures, carved in swooping curves, spiraled around each other as they knelt together amid lush foliage. A beatific smile graced the female’s lips while the man’s were slightly parted, as though he were about to kiss her. She had wanted to express the sense, the
essence
of the perfect harmony and beauty of soul mates. While she had never personally experienced anything even remotely like the emotion she had attempted to capture, she still thought she had done a pretty good job.

“What do you call this?” Arien asked when she joined him.

“
The Garden
,” she said.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the sculpture. “It’s breathtaking.”

Over the years, her parents, friends, even total strangers had told her work was good, but the absolute sincerity and admiration in his voice stirred incredible range of emotions within her. Pride, gratitude, joy, anxiety, all warred for supremacy, nearly causing a total system overload. “Really?” she asked.

He turned to her, surprise clear on his face. “Yes.” He reached out and his fingertips danced in the air millimeters from her cheek. He never touched her, but she swore she could feel his gentle caress on her skin. “You have an amazing talent.”

“You really mean it?” She hated this part of herself. The part that was so damn needy, that so craved validation but could never accept it. The part that lived in the back of her mind, whispering that she would forever be lacking, that no matter what she did, she would never be good enough, pretty enough, smart enough.

He frowned at her. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“I-I do. It’s, well, you know,” she stammered. “Sometimes people say things just to be nice.”

“My Master,” he said, his voice tinged with humor. “I haven’t done anything that would even remotely qualify as ‘nice’ since I was exiled.” He paused, his lips twisting. “And even most of that is probably up for debate.”

“But you were an angel,” she said. “A messenger of God, right? It’s been awhile since I was in Sunday school, but aren’t angels like the epitome of good?”

“Good. Nice.” He shook his head. “I was a Holy Sword of the Lord, one of many charged with exacting His will and punishments. The only messages I ever delivered were death sentences. Is smiting people nice? Is exterminating an entire city good?”

“Is that why you became a demon? ’Cause you didn’t want to kill people anymore?”

Arien laughed. “You wish me to be noble, but I assure you I am not. My transgression was far more mundane.”

“What’d you do?” she asked, utterly fascinated.

“Because of something I…suggested…two hundred angels decided to ignore the precepts of heaven.” There was slight, almost sad smile on his face. “Let’s just say He was less than pleased. They Fell, every last one of them damned for all eternity, and I along with them.”

“You call that mundane?” she asked.

“It certainly isn’t the righteous indignation you were hoping for.”

“So, what was this suggestion?”

His eyes trailed over her and that sad smile transformed into a smirk. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m a curious girl.” That didn’t seem to impress him, so she tried another tactic. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Tell me.”

“Whining isn’t very becoming, my Master.”

“I know,” she said, exhaling heavily. “But it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose it was.”

Lila drew on every bit of height she possessed, which, considering how large he was, wasn’t all that much. “I command you to tell me,” she said, trying to sound as dignified as possible. She felt ridiculous saying it, but she couldn’t think of any other way to get it out of him.

“Do you?” he asked, both shocked and amused. “All right then. But first, tell me, what would you sell your soul for?”

“What?” Lila asked. “I thought you weren’t interested in my soul.”

“No, I have no desire to take your soul. That does not imply disinterest. I am…what was the word you used? Curious.”

Lila pursed her lips. “You know, you throw that whole ‘Master’ thing around like it actually means something. It doesn’t though, does it?”

“On the contrary,” he said. “It means everything.”

“Right,” she said, and then took a deep breath. “Well, I guess if I had to choose, I think I’d sell my soul for a lifetime of happiness.”

“Happiness?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”

“What did you expect?” she asked, smiling up at him. “Fame and glory? Besides, what’s wrong with a little happiness?”

“Nothing. But I suppose I did expect something more.”

“More than what?” she asked. “I don’t need adoring fans or power or wealth.” She paused. “Wealth would actually be
really
nice. But,” she said with enough force to cut it off whatever he had been about to say, “I don’t need any of that. All I’ve ever really wanted was some comfort. Peace. To be able to make my sculptures and have people appreciate them. To be able to find someone to love. Someone to love me,” she added quietly. She shook her head, staring at the floor. She couldn’t believe she had admitted something so horribly cheesy out loud. Though, cheesy as it was, it really was everything her heart longed for. She let out something halfway between a laugh and a snort and looked back up at him. “You know,” she said, trying to play off her earlier sappiness, “someone to take long walks on the beach with. Hold hands and watch the sun set over the ocean and whatnot.”

He seemed confused. “Happiness is long walks on the beach?”

Lila laughed. “So I’ve heard.”

He opened his mouth again, but Lila held up one finger. “No. It’s your turn. What’d you do?”

He pressed his lips tightly together. “Angels are all male,” he began. “The first time I ever saw a woman was when humans began populating the earth. They were…fascinating.” He looked at her and she felt a blush burn her cheeks under the intensity of his gaze. “And so very beautiful.” He shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Everyone reacted differently to these new creations. Some were envious. Others embraced them. And others… Others wanted more. One day, I spoke with an angel who I had learned had developed a particularly strong obsession with them. I suggested that maybe it would be…interesting…to interact with them more…intimately.” He shook his head. “And so he did. Along with his closest friends. And thus we were all damned.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why were you damned for that?”

“Without my encouragement, he would never have acted on his desires. Though he lusted, he didn’t know what lust was. None of us did. How could we? Angels were created without sin. Without desire. Without emotion.” He put his hand over his heart. “But I saw. I knew, in a way, and I willfully led him astray. I pointed him in the direction of a path he would have never found on his own. Hardly angelic, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Why?” she asked. “Why did you do it?”

“As wonderful and glorious as heaven is, it is also utterly boring.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see what would happen. I thought it would be fun.”

“Fun? Seriously?” she asked. “And was it?”

“Oh yes,” he said, nostalgia in his eyes.

“Did you, um…?” she said, struggling with what she wanted to ask but didn’t want to know.

“No,” he said softly. “Lust was not my sin.”

“No?” she asked, laughing mostly from relief. “You could have fooled me.”

“My darling Master,” he said, clearly amused. “Never think that I do not reap every benefit of my downfall, such as they are. I only meant that it was not the reason I was cast out.” He laughed. “At least not directly.”

“Sorry about that,” Mark said, startling Lila. She had not noticed his return. “So, shall we continue?” he asked.

She glanced over at Arien, who inclined his head to her and said, “By your leave,” for her ears alone. She nodded to Mark.

“Excellent,” Mark said. “If you’ll follow me.”

Lila spent the rest of the walk-through wondering why she was so damn happy that the reason Arien became a demon had nothing to do with some other woman.

Chapter Six

“I am starving,” Lila said as they entered her loft. She made a beeline for the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and sighed despairingly as a half-empty carton of orange juice, leftover wine from Angie’s visit and some sad-looking Chinese takeout greeted her. She slammed the door shut. “We should have picked up something on the way back,” she said.

“What do you desire?” Arien asked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“Hmmm,” Lila said, running her tongue over her teeth. “Spicy jerk chicken. Sweet plantains.” She licked her lips. “
Chocolate covered strawberries.
”

He flashed her a quick grin and then twisted his wrist in a graceful arch. Suddenly everything she named appeared on the kitchen table.

Lila gaped in spite of herself. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the way he could just make things appear out of thin air. “Is that real?” she asked.

Chuckling, he motioned her over to the table. He chose a small piece of chicken off the plate and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth and he placed the morsel on her tongue. She moaned as the spices filled her mouth, her eyes rolling in pleasure as she chewed the succulent meat. He waited until she finished then fed her a golden fried plantain. It was just as perfect as the chicken, crisp and wonderfully flavorful.

He moved closer to her, a breath of space between them. He chose a strawberry and brought it to her mouth, but instead of allowing her to take a bite, he ran the fruit over her bottom lip. She let the tip of her tongue touch the berry and pure, rich sweetness filled her mouth. His eyes glazed as he watched her lick the strawberry and she heard him inhale sharply. His Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed hard. He put the strawberry aside and his eyes focused on her mouth. He dipped his head, his lips hovering over hers.

Her breathing began to come in short, quick pants as heat rushed straight to her core. Her lips parted and her eyes drifted shut. She lifted her chin, so ready, so very wanting his kiss. She leaned toward him and her lips met air. Startled, her eyes flew open. His soft, rich laughter rumbled through her, making her insides vibrate.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked, his lips so close, so very close to hers.

“Yes,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Yes?” he asked. His mouth moved over hers, small circles, round and round, his lips so tantalizingly close. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”

Kiss me
. The words formed on her lips, but they were quickly replaced by her own grin as everything became clear. Maybe there was something to this Master thing after all. No matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—touch her until she released him from her earlier command. “I don’t know,” she said, laughing merrily, incredibly pleased to be able to toy with him for a change. “I don’t know that I’m convinced.”

She felt him stiffen, but then he laughed. “You require convincing, do you?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “My dear, dear, sweet Master, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Um, no,” she said, stepping lightly away from him. “That’s not very convincing at all, I’m afraid. Try again.”

Grinning widely, Arien nodded. “When I’m through with you, you’re going to beg me to touch you.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

She spread her hands, palms up. “So far I’m not impressed.”

An arrogant, lazy smirk touched his lips as he advanced toward her. Something about the intensity in his eyes, the powerful, purposeful stride, had her backing up until she hit the wall. He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned close, effectively trapping her.

“My Master,” he said, his warm breath caressing the length of her throat. “You smell delicious.”

The air seemed heavy, hot, electric, and Lila trembled. The slightest movement would close the slight gap between them, would bring her lips to the hollow of his throat.

He blew softly along her ear, sending chills down her spine. His lips ghosted over her forehead, down her nose, and then once again hovered right over her mouth. His breath tickled her lips, mingling with hers. She reached for him, but he dodged her hand.