Chapter 4
My first attempt at demonic courtship occurs the following day. In Hell, courtship typically involves presenting potential mates with impressive gifts—traditionally the heads of enemies or rare treasures stolen from other realms.
Since I doubt Finn would appreciate severed heads (he gets queasy when patients need stitches), I opt for treasure.
While he’s busy with morning appointments, I use a small portion of my restored powers to conjure an appropriate gift—a solid gold caduceus encrusted with rubies and black diamonds, roughly three feet tall and impressively heavy.
I place it prominently in the center of the living room, eagerly awaiting his reaction when he comes upstairs for lunch.
“WHAT THE—” Finn stops dead in the doorway, staring at the gleaming monstrosity. “Morax, what is THAT?”
“A gift,” I announce proudly. “A symbol of healing and medicine, crafted from the finest gold and gemstones. Worthy of your skills as a healer.”
He approaches it cautiously, as though it might bite. “It’s… very shiny.”
“The rubies represent the blood you’ve saved, and the diamonds the darkness you’ve pulled patients back from,” I explain, pleased with my symbolic choices.
Finn runs a hand through his hair—that gesture I’ve come to recognize as a sign of distress rather than contemplation. “Morax, this is… wow. It’s certainly… something.”
“You don’t like it,” I state flatly, disappointment flooding me.
“No! I mean, it’s beautiful, really. It’s just… where would I put it? It’s bigger than my coffee table. And, um, where did it come from exactly?”
“I created it,” I say with pride.
“Created it? Like, magically?”
“Of course.”
“Out of what?” he asks suspiciously.
I wave a dismissive hand. “I merely reshaped matter from another location.”
“What location, Morax?” His voice has that warning tone I’ve come to recognize.
“The matter came from several items in a building humans call ‘The Federal Reserve.’ They have an abundance of gold. They won’t miss it.”
Finn’s face goes pale. “You STOLE from the FEDERAL RESERVE?!”
“Not stole. Redistributed. For a worthy cause.”
He presses his hands to his face and makes a strange groaning noise. “You can’t just—that’s—we have to send it back!”
“Send it back?” I repeat incredulously. “It’s a gift! A token of my… esteem.”
“It’s EVIDENCE!” Finn exclaims. “Of a federal crime! That I’m now accessory to!”
This is not the reaction I anticipated. In Hell, receiving stolen treasures is considered a high compliment.
“I was trying to court you,” I admit stiffly. “In a manner befitting your status.”
That stops him. “You were… what?”
“Courting you,” I repeat, uncomfortable with having to explain. “Demonstrating my interest in a potential romantic and/or sexual alliance.”
Finn’s mouth opens and closes several times before he manages to speak. “You’re… interested in me? Like that?”
“Obviously,” I growl, irritated by his slowness. “Why else would I remain here, helping you clean animal excrement and restraining slobbering canines?”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “I thought maybe you just liked the cable package.”
“Your television selection is mediocre at best.”
He laughs, stepping closer. “Morax, if you want to… court me… you don’t need to steal national treasures. Just… I don’t know… ask me on a date? Like normal people do?”
I scoff. “I am not normal people. I am—”
“—a Duke of Hell, yes, I know.” His eyes are dancing with amusement now. “But you’re trying to date a normal person. So maybe try normal methods?”
I consider this. “What would constitute a ‘normal’ courtship gesture?”
“Dinner? A movie? Flowers? Something that doesn’t involve federal crime would be a good start.”
“These seem inadequate to express my intentions,” I grumble.
Finn steps closer still, until he’s standing directly in front of me. “Your intentions seem pretty clear.” His voice has dropped to a softer register that does strange things to my internal temperature. “And for the record, I’m… interested too. Have been for a while.”
“You have?” This surprises me. “Even knowing what I am?”
He shrugs, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “Maybe because of what you are. You’re… fascinating. Annoying as hell sometimes—”
“Watch it.”
“—but fascinating.” He reaches up, hesitantly, and touches my face. Just a gentle brush of fingers against my cheek, but it sends a shock through my entire system. “And for someone who claims to be so terrible, you’re surprisingly gentle when it matters.”
I should protest this characterization. I should insist that I am fearsome and terrible and not at all gentle. Instead, I find myself leaning into his touch, my eyes drifting half-closed.
“I still want to court you properly,” I murmur.
“Okay,” he agrees softly. “But maybe we start with dinner? Something that doesn’t require an FBI investigation?”
“Acceptable,” I concede. Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “But I’m keeping the stolen federal treasure courting gift as a backup plan.”
He laughs, the sound warming something deep inside me. “We’ll need to return that. Immediately.”
“After dinner,” I counter.
“Fine. After dinner.”
We stand there for a moment, his hand still on my face, something electric building between us. Then he rises on his tiptoes and presses a quick, soft kiss to my lips.
It’s barely a touch—just the briefest contact—but it feels like being struck by lightning. In all my millennia, I’ve experienced countless physical pleasures, but nothing like this simple, chaste kiss.
“That’s a down payment,” Finn says with a grin, stepping back. “On what you can expect from a proper date. Now help me figure out how to return this monstrosity before we both end up in federal prison.”