Synching With the Devil's Son

Chapter 42

Bella's P.O.V.

My eyes widen and my vision narrows. What-The-Actual-Fuck?!? Four hundred and six years old? I put my hands on my knees and bend over to try to get some control over my breathing. I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can sense Lucien take a step toward me, but I cannot handle him being in my personal space right now. I hold my hand up, palm facing him, asking him without words to stay put, and he does. I have to remember he is being respectful and giving me space to deal with this if I lose it later. After a few minutes, I when don't feel like passing out or throwing up anymore, I slowly stand up and face him. He is looking at me with concern, and I manage to mumble, "I'm okay," before I take a deep fortifying breath. I clear my throat. "So let me get this straight," I start, trying to put a string of words together in my head. Hopefully they come out with some semblance of order. "You're telling me your Dad is the Devil, your Mom was human but died over three hundred years ago, you're part angel and apparently you're immortal. Did you leave anything out?"

He shakes his head, "No, not really."

I look at him, stupefied. In that exact moment I realize he's glossed over a TON of shit. "I'm sorry, but you left a lot out, actually!" I tell him, my voice raising. "For example," I say sarcastically, ticking my first point on my fingers, "I jerked off an angel...twice. What the fuck Lucien! Am I going to Hell for that?"

"What?" he looks astonished. "No! That's not how it works!" He starts pacing, and I watch as he tries to organize the heavy thoughts transpiring through his mind. He runs a nervous hand through his hair and I think he believes if he doesn't put together an eloquent and decisive speech, I'm going to leave him. He cares enough about me to worry about what I think, and that gives me a glimmer of hope that I can find a way through his revelation and come out with a reasonable amount of sanity left.

He stops pacing and looks at me. "Even if there is an extremely remote possibility you're headed in that direction, I'd never let you go to Hell. I care about you too much Bella."

Wow. He can direct who goes to Hell? I didn't see that one coming, and just then an epiphany hits me with the subtlety of a wrecking ball...now I understand why he was so reticent about having sex...he was protecting me. He gifted me the opportunity to try and understand who and what he is before I share my body with him, and that realization completely floors me. His father is the Devil, the seducer of innocents and perpetrator of evil, yet Lucien respects me enough to entrust me with his identity before sharing his body with me. He's been nothing but gentle and considerate this weekend, and now he is looking at me with fear and regret in his eyes. I feel a sensation creep slowly up my spine, spreading out toward the ends of my limbs until it settles into my entire being. Acceptance...I believe him. Strangely, I believe him, but why am I not freaking out? Probably because of what he did for me last night...his actions have spoken louder than any words ever could. I sigh softly and make a decision. "You know what?" I ask, waiting for him to look at me. "The irrational and primitive side of my brain believes you are who you claim to be, but the rational side of me needs some kind of convincing proof."

He smiles at me and his rigid posture relaxes a little. "What kind of proof do you need?"

"I don't know, what kind of proof do you have? If you're part angel, do you have wings?" I ask, not really expecting him to answer in the affirmative. When he does, I look at him incredulously. "You do?" When he nods again I say, "Holy Shit! Umm...okay...can I see them?"

"Are you sure?" I start shaking my head and then realize I really do need proof, so my shaking becomes nodding. "You don't seem very sure," he says to me.

"I'm sure," I tell him with more confidence than I feel. He looks around the beautiful meadow, then looks back at me.

"Okay, but please don't scream or pass out."

"I'm not promising anything," I mumble, but I know he heard me because he smiles again. In an instant he unfurls enormous cream colored wings flecked with black and brown spots, each one has to be more than ten feet long. They are the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life, and I stand there staring at him, agog. "Holy shit!" I manage to utter, licking my suddenly very dry lips. "May I touch them?" I ask, finally looking at his face. He looks worried again, but nods silently. I walk unsteadily towards him, admiring the long primary feathers that glisten in the sunlight. I expect them to feel like plastic, like I'm about to touch a movie prop or something, but they are warm and soft, and as soon as I touch them, I want to bury my face into them. "Oh my God, your wings are absolutely beautiful, Lucien!"