Chapter 12
Lionel
Present day.
I had been intent on indulging in the luxury of sleeping in for once. I’d killed all my alarms so I’d be able to savor waking up in my own time.
When I’d gotten home last night—or this morning, depending on one’s preferred world view—I’d even remembered to pull the curtains closed in front of the tall window which my bed stood under.
They weren’t very good curtains, and they didn’t give me a dark room, but it was still better than direct sunlight in my face.
It was as close to bliss as I got these days.
But. There had to be a but.
My doorbell rang, and it pulled me out of a pleasant dream I couldn’t hold on to, not with the panic the noise induced. I stumbled out of bed and managed to get myself upright, even though my eyes weren’t having any of this nonsense and decided not to help at all.
The doorbell kept on ringing, and my panic rose. There had to be an emergency after all, and they needed me. They must have sent someone to get me because my phone was on silent.
My black Converse shoes lay where I’d dropped them after the trip to the morgue late last night, and because my eyes were on strike, the shoes almost made me face-plant the floor, but I managed to regain my footing by grabbing one of the four mismatched chairs around my office and dining table.
It skidded and screeched a little, but I stayed about ninety percent upright.
As elegant as a ballet dancer on excellent drugs.
After some cursing, I made it to the door in one piece and got it open. At that point, my eyes joined the morning party, showing me an all too clear image of the Devil, who stood in my hallway, smug as sin and looking as entitled to be here as a janitor come to fix my pipes.
I cleared my throat. No, the Devil did not make me think about my pipes. I was not to imagine him going near my pipes, ever. It was bad enough he was here. Where my pipes were.
Before I could even tell Lucifer to fuck right off and only come back with coffee if he had to come back at all, he handed me the cursed white poodle with a determined shove. It occurred to me that I should really learn to make better use of my door chain.
“What the fuck is this?” I asked.
“What does it look like, Nelly? I’m returning this delight of a dog to you, and you owe me a favor in return.”
That news broke over me like a bucket of ice water. He had to be kidding. Granted, with a smile that made people urgently reach for fig leaves and worry about their pipes, he could get away with a lot, but I had given him the damn cursed poodle so he would be her forever home.
“I told you this place has a no pets rule. And why would I owe you anything? Explain that, Lucy. All logic-like.”
Lucifer shrugged. “Oh, it’s simple, really. Tiamat is dropping by for a visit, and I need you to be my human necromancer boyfriend. She likes it when we mingle. With humans. She says it keeps the immortal mind humble, and I don’t know a better human to keep me humble than you, Nelly.”
I was going to let the logic bit and the insult slide, because… “Tiamat?”
Some of the most ancient myths, tied to creation and power, were about her, and I’d never once read a direct account of a magic user interacting with her. This had the potential to be huge.
“The Dragon Mother, yes. Not mother of dragons. Do not ever call her that. She will not tolerate it.” Lucifer’s eyes roamed over me, and I was uncomfortably aware that I was wearing an off-yellow pajama shirt with dark green bottoms, because the corresponding and matching pieces were in the laundry.
The poodle, while growling, drooled on the sleeve of my mismatched pajama top, but fuck it, my interest was piqued.
Not in Lucifer. There was no way I would get cozy with him, or any immortal for that matter.
It was a bad idea, my metaphorical pipes were fine, and I didn’t need anyone who would wake me up in the middle of the morning, period.
Besides, most scholars agreed that to immortals, humans were no more than lap dogs might be to us.
I deserved better than that. I knew I wasn’t a prize, considering how frequently corpse juices ruined my clothes, and the mud brown hair I only remembered to cut once every three months or so, and the unimpressive light brown eyes…
But even still, I deserved better than being turned into an immortal’s pet, especially an immortal as self-absorbed, grandiose, entitled, and hot as the Devil.
I put the poodle down and stepped aside, holding the door open for Lucifer. The only way to get him to leave was to ignore him, that much I knew.
“I need coffee before I can agree to anything,” I said.
Meeting a primordial goddess with tons of magical knowledge did interest me, but I wouldn’t cozy up to Lucifer to meet Tiamat. I needed to find another way.
Lucifer walked past me. Gods, he smelled good.
Spices and woodsmoke. I wouldn’t mind burying my nose in his hair and—no.
Nooo. I couldn’t let my sleep-drunk mind go down that road.
Running into him as often as I did was just another way in which the universe had decided to fuck with me, and there was no reason to encourage the fuckery or engage beyond the bare minimum.
I closed the door behind him and shambled to the kitchen.
I usually made a point of making a pot of coffee at night so I only had to microwave it in the morning, but last night, Detective Rice had called me to the morgue with a warrant and consent from next of kin for a raising.
It had taken a long time due to advanced decomp, and I’d just not bothered with the coffee once I got home after all that.
I was a necromancer and not squeamish, but the lingering smell of death still made me queasy sometimes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in your apartment, Nelly,” Lucifer said.
He looked around the place. The furniture was mostly secondhand, and the floor needed cleaning. I’d given up on carpets long ago—my job made that impractical due to all the fluids I invariably came into contact with—so mildly scratched-up laminate it was.
Lucifer wrinkled his nose before he added, “It lacks both charm and style.” He turned toward me, and I focused on coffee.
His gaze was boring into the back of my head, and it didn’t help my coordination any.
I spilled half a tablespoon of coffee grounds on the counter.
“What on earth are you trying to do with that brew, kill a nest of cockroaches?”
I gripped the tablespoon tighter. “I like my coffee strong, and you woke me before fucking noon to give me back a cursed poodle I can’t keep.”
The pet in question growled from some dark corner. I really didn’t care. I had trouble caring before coffee on a good day, and this was not shaping up to be one of those.
“Of course you’ll keep Soul.”
“Soul?”
“Yes, it’s what I named her. She’s no danger to you, and as your boyfriend, I should probably get you to go on a cleanse, especially if you drink that amount of coffee on a regular basis.
Hmm. We should do a juice cleanse together.
Yes. Tiamat will just love that. Do you need my help packing a bag? ”
I dumped more coffee grounds on the counter and mumbled a curse, one involving both dicks and pipes.
“Do I what?”
“Do you want to go on a cleanse with me?” Lucifer said, speaking extra slow, as if once again he suspected some sort of brain injury.
He stood there, jeans sitting just perfectly on his hips, which he had angled in such a way that a sliver of pale skin just above his waistband peeked out at me from where his T-shirt and jacket had ridden up.
He made it look accidental, but I’d stopped buying that Lucifer did anything without calculation years ago.
I wondered what that slice of skin would taste like if I just knelt down and licked it.
My cock gave a twitch, and I focused on his boots.
Yes. Those were just well-polished footwear. Nothing exciting about his boots.
“Not that. Why would I pack a bag?” I said as I tried to will my cock into ignoring how eminently fuckable the Devil appeared to be.
I would not, ever, fuck him. Sex with him was the basement with the failing lights in any horror movie, and for once in my life, I needed to be a final girl.
Lucifer looked around. “I can’t move in with you, Nelly.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll let my house-angel know to pick up organic produce. And a juicer.” He pulled out his phone and started texting.
“Lucy, I’m not fucking moving in with you,” I said. The nerve of him. Gods, how I hated immortals.
Lucifer stopped texting. “I cannot explain to Tiamat how you wouldn’t, not when I already told her you live with me.”
“You did what?”
He shrugged. “I had to tell her something, Nelly. And since you were going to move in with me anyway…”
I took a calming breath. My hands were shaking. I needed coffee. Coffee would make this entire situation better.
“Listen to me. I’m not moving in with you.
” I walked up to him, grabbed the lapel of his snug-fitting denim jacket, and dragged him to the door.
He was bigger and stronger than me, and if he’d dug in his heels, I’d have only had my magic to draw upon, but thankfully, he allowed me to kick his ass out.
“Go,” I said, opening the door and shoving him across the threshold.
Lucifer turned around. “You’ll feel better about ten days into the cleanse. That’s when the mood swings are supposed to stop.”
I rolled my eyes and shut the door in the Devil’s face. With my luck, he’d be back before dinner, but at least by then I’d be caffeinated. An ominous growl echoed through the apartment.
“Fuck,” I said. I’d forgotten to make him take Soul.