Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Lucifer was right. Not that Lilith stank.
Aside from the whole drinking blood for survival thing, she was designed to be sheer perfection.
Almost. Luce refused to give her wings when he took her in and made her irresistible to men, but otherwise, she could give Venus a run for her money in the looks and wiles department.
No, Lucifer was right about her becoming a miserable wretch.
She showered anyway—it had been a few days—and dressed in her favorite black catsuit. Esther still lay coiled beneath her heat lamp, and Lilith put a freeze-dried mouse in the terrarium before heading out the door. “Come, Percival.”
Her crow flew after her, circling above her head as she made her way through the village.
She would never get used to The Underworld’s new aesthetic, but if Lucifer could find happiness, so could she.
Figuring out where the elusive emotion was hiding might be a problem, but Azrael could help her with that.
Holding her head high, she walked like a woman on a mission, her long strides carrying her down the street at a fast clip.
The “sky” resembled daytime, with puffy white clouds dotting the fabricated blue background, and demons milled about, taking a break from whatever debauchery they should have been up to.
A beefy fiend with short black horns and fiery red eyes turned the corner and sauntered toward her on the sidewalk, walking right down the middle as if he owned the slab of concrete beneath his feet.
He looked at her and continued his trek, fully expecting her to step aside like a good girl and let him pass.
“I am so not in the mood for playing chicken.” She stopped and rested a hand on her hip.
The demon halted in front of her, holding out his hands in a what the fuck are you doing? gesture while simultaneously manspreading so she’d have to either step into the street or slither up the wall to move out of his way.
She didn’t, of course, and instead offered a polite, “Excuse me.”
“You’re in my way,” he snapped.
“And you’re in mine.”
“Remember your place, woman.” His lip curled as if calling her a woman was supposed to be an insult. “You don’t want to get kicked out of The Underworld too.”
She threw her head back and laughed. These lower-level, testosterone-filled demons had no idea how tight she and Lucifer were. If this guy wanted to believe she was beneath him, she would have to teach him a lesson. “You’ll be swimming in the tarpits before I’ll ever be banished again.”
He narrowed his eyes and growled, and she activated her glamour. His face fell slack as her trance took hold, and she used her magic to force him to his knees. “Having a pencil and a set of pinballs dangling between your legs doesn’t make you superior.”
She squeezed her fist, tightening her magic around his crotch. “I could render them useless with a flick of my wrist, so I suggest you remember your place.”
“I’m sorry,” he wheezed.
“Next time, don’t be so rude.” She released her hold, and he scrambled to his feet before darting around her and plowing down a witch in his path. The nerve!
The woman’s butt smacked the pavement, and her coffee splattered on her lap as the demon booked it across the street without so much as an apology.
“I am so sorry.” Lilith rushed to her side and helped her stand. “Are you okay?”
“My pants have seen better days, but I’m fine.” She pulled a napkin from her purse and wiped the stain.
“I was trying to teach him not to be an ass to women, but my plan backfired.” Again. It seemed like every time Lilith attempted to do good, she ended up making things worse for her effort. Perhaps she should simply stop trying.
“Some men will never learn, especially Barth.” The witch shook her head. “He’s a world-class asshole.”
“Let me get you a new drink. It’s the least I can do for causing you trouble.”
“It’s okay. I was about to toss it anyway.” She threw the paper cup and napkin into a bin. “Thanks for standing up to him.”
“Anytime.”
The witch hung a left at the corner, and Lilith continued her journey.
She entered the counseling center and strode straight to Azrael’s office, where she found him sitting behind a massive black desk, his feathery onyx wings tucked neatly against his back.
Pausing in the doorway, she tilted her head at the hot pink accents in the otherwise black space.
As she stepped inside, the aesthetic morphed to match her favorite color—midnight blue.
“Since when does the Angel of Death like pink?” she asked.
He smiled wistfully. “Since he found his soulmate. What can I do for you, Lilith?”
Ugh. Not this soulmate business again. Ever since Luce supposedly found his, the entire Underworld had been buzzing about it. When would they all wake up and smell the O Positive? Soulmates weren’t a thing, and they never would be. “Lucifer sent me. He said he’d call you.”
Percival flew into the office and landed on her shoulder.
Azrael scowled. “So you’re here by force. All the counseling in the world won’t help someone who doesn’t want help. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”
“I do want help. I need it. For Esther’s sake.” She strode to his desk and rested her fingers on the surface. “I need to talk to someone about my mood. Once they fix me, Esther will be healed.”
“My team can’t fix you. They can only listen and give advice on how to fix yourself.
” His gaze flicked to the doorway, and Lilith turned to find a vampire dressed in pink from her halter top to her stiletto boots.
She carried two cups, one with a heart drawn on the paper sleeve.
This must have been Azrael’s so-called soulmate.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she froze. “Sweet Lilith, it’s you.”
“Sweet. Now that’s something I’ve never been called before.”
“Sorry. I tend to take your name in vain more than I should. A lot of us do.” She paced to Azrael’s desk, kissed him on the cheek, and set down the cups. “I had a little fangirl moment there. I’m Deirdre.” She offered her hand, and Lilith shook it.
“A pleasure.”
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Believe me.” She reached toward Percival, and the crow flapped his wings, cawing as he took to the air and landed on the back of the couch. “Sorry. Is that your familiar? Is it true you can put your consciousness in him, see through his eyes and stuff?”
“It is.”
“Wow! I’ve heard rumors about your powers.
I can glamour people, but that’s as far as my magic goes.
What else can you do?” Deirdre’s smile was electric, and Lilith found herself returning the gesture.
Though she was pale, as all vampires were, the woman seemed to glow with happiness.
Her platinum hair was swept into a high ponytail, and her lipstick matched her outfit flawlessly.
Deirdre would be the perfect person to get her out of this slump and have Esther feeling like her old self again.
Azrael cleared his throat. “I think Jessie might be a good match for you, Lilith. Let me pull up her schedule.”
“I want Deirdre.”
He blinked, a look of confusion flashing across his features briefly. “She’s not a counselor.”
Lilith brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “So? I like her energy. Do you have another vampire on your staff?”
“We’re all dark angels.”
“Well, Deirdre it is, then.” She looked at her newfound friend. “When can we begin?”
Deirdre cut her gaze to Azrael before looking at Lilith. “I’m just a web designer. I’m not qualified to offer professional advice.”
“Perhaps I don’t need professional advice. Perhaps I simply need a friend.” She held up her hand, and Percival perched on her fingers.
Deirdre’s smile widened. “You want to be my friend?”
“According to Lucifer, I’m a miserable wretch, and it’s time I made a change. What do you say?”
“I say hell yeah!” She jumped, shaking her fists with excitement. “This is fangtastic! Want to go grab a drink at The Fang and Flask?”
“That sounds fabulous.” She turned to Azrael. “Thank you for your help.”
“Hold on.” He raised a hand. “Lucifer said—”
“He said I needed to talk to you, which I’ve done.”
The angel narrowed his eyes. “He said I needed to pair you with a counselor.”
“And I’ve chosen Deirdre. Do not challenge my decision, reaper. You said yourself counseling doesn’t work on the unwilling, and I am unwilling to talk to anyone but Dee.” She looked at her friend. “May I call you Dee?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious.
Azrael let out a long, slow exhale and looked at Deirdre. “Let me know if I need to intervene.”
Dee laughed. “We’ll be fine. Ready?”
“I am.” Lilith followed her out the door and glanced back inside the office. The moment she crossed the threshold, the deep blue accents returned to pink.
“Why does Lucifer say you’re miserable?” Deirdre asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk outside the counseling center.
Percival perched on Lilith’s shoulder, and she stroked a finger over his back. “I suppose it’s because I am. I must be, or Esther wouldn’t be sick.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I believe that’s the problem.”
Dee pursed her lips, and they walked in silence the rest of the way to the bar.
Lilith chewed the inside of her cheek. Sharing the miserableness her existence had become would be harder than she thought.
Her new friend idolized her, though she wasn’t sure why.
Everything Lilith touched turned to ruin: her marriage to Adam, her plan to rescue Eve, even the lesson she’d tried to teach the insufferable demon today had landed an innocent witch flat on her ass with coffee in her lap.
Now she’d have to burst Dee’s bubble and tell her just how lame the Queen of the Night had become.
They entered The Underworld portion of The Fang and Flask and made their way toward the bar in the back of the room. Tables dotted the center of the space, and a row of secluded booths lined the far wall.