In another life she might have pushed him away for grabbing her so suddenly like he did. Usually she liked to give the illusion that the man was in power, but keep the power for herself. In this instance, she was very much powerless. No matter how hard she could try to seduce any of the demons, the ball was very much in their court any time she spoke with them. She was a plaything, a toy to be passed around–she had no delusions about these things. But there was still hope that perhaps one of them would get more attached than they initially meant to, and maybe that was even more dangerous, or maybe then she’d finally be safe. Either way Jo had to try, it was all she had.
Gabriel’s hand held her tightly as he said words that many before him proclaimed. “And as I said before–that’s your problem to figure out, not mine.” As space between them grew, Josephine wondered how much the demons discussed her, and even the rest of the humans. Did they know every aspect of her life? Every sordid detail? Did they know her actual name was Linda? The questions continued to swirl as the room around her seemed to grow more and more crowded. Every around her was either a stranger or briefly familiar, and she remembered, in a life that seemed so long ago, when that was her entire life. Rooms filled top to bottom with strangers, people that she had to persuade. Most of the time she didn’t belong in any of those rooms, nor parties, but sweet talking the guards had become her greatest past time.
“I’d rather remember every detail and enjoy the taste.” Josephine’s response was not completely truthful. There had been plenty of nights where she knew they were going to end, and so she would drink. Drink to forget. Drink to let herself stop thinking. Drink to make the man she was with seem less horrible, and a little more satiable. None of these things embarrassed her, but she didn’t want Gabriel thinking she was just going to waste her life in Paradise away by drinking away her memories. She had become an expert at erasing her life without outside influences.
Jo’s jaw threatened to drop as for a moment she was uncertain as to whether he was talking about Los Angeles, or Adair. She chose to believe he didn’t know about her farm in Iowa.
“It’s horribly dull here. This is the first party, and I’m sure one of the only parties we’ll have.”
Wine nipped at the sleek glass as it swirled under the fidgeting motion of his rotating wrist, casting shadows of red across the pristine white of his shirt with each rotation. “How terribly dull.” His flat tone did nothing to hide the lack of interest that threatened to pull his attention toward something or someone more interesting in the continuously growing crowd.
Pale lips caressed the cool glass as the fragrance of the wine once again assaulted every taste bud. Once, in the years of his youth, Gabriel had held a desperate appreciation for the taste of the beverage, making conversations with kings and nobles alike while cooing over the flavor of the contents of a cup. It was pathetic under the scrutiny of his own retrospection. “I suppose after a few centuries, I have grown rather bored of paying attention to something as insignificant as taste.” His eyes moved down her form once more, the judgmental inflection of his words mirroring the calculating glint of his cold gaze.
It would be easy, he supposed, to find someone more interesting to spend his time with. Delilah always held the tempting promise of a night well remembered, even without the lure of seduction. Yet the sudden change in Josephine’s expression stirred a curiosity that threatened to keep him close for the rest of the night. Something he said had hit a nerve, and Gabriel was determined to discover what could make such a pristine mask crack.
“Nonsense,” he said with the wave of a hand. “Lucifer has far too much to show off for this to be a one-time thing.” It seemed as if the devil himself had grown arrogant with a need to impress the creatures he once thought so lowly of. Perhaps he, like God, was growing fond of the humans and the unique way in which they refused to break beneath the pressure of hell itself.
