by Eve Langlais
Copyright © 2020/2021, Eve Langlais
Cover Art Dreams2Media August 2020
Produced in Canada
Published by Eve Langlais ~ www.EveLanglais.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This book is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.
E-ISBN: 978 177 384 153 3
Print ISBN: 978 177 384 154 0
Contents
Introduction
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Also by Eve Langlais
Introduction
Netflix and Chill takes on a whole new meaning when Posie starts dating the Reaper.
Poor Brody. As reaper leader for the Canadian guild, he and his crew don’t get as much work as other countries until the Dark Lord gives them a new mandate: Establish a dating service on Earth that will facilitate the meeting between citizens of Hell and humans with the end goal being babies.
In other words, become a pimp.
It’s a cruel demotion for a reaper who just wanted to guide souls to their final destination. He is dying to return to Hell, until he meets the stubborn woman living across the hall.
The Devil wants Posie mated, but she is resisting all attempts. What will it take to make her see the light?
And how will she react when she finally discovers that death has been knocking at her door?
The Grim Dating Series:
For more Hell books featuring Lucifer’s meddling, check out The Welcome to Hell series (available in ebook, print and audio)
Lucifer is taking his matchmaking to the next level by sending his minions on a cruise. Get ready to giggle your way through ~ Jane Davey’s Locket.
Foreword
Lucifer’s got his hands full with the Antichrist and another baby on its way. Add in a very pregnant and demanding Mother Earth, plus another prophecy about the end of the world and it’s clear he needs to delegate more.
What he also needs? More minions to fill the ranks in his legion. With Cupid on a sabbatical and fewer babies being born than ever, he has to take drastic action.
Say hello to Grim Dating, a service dedicated to pairing humans with things that go bump in the night or hide under the bed. And who better to run this newly created department but some underworked Canadian Grim Reapers.
1
Lucifer is back with a devilish new plan.
I should torture someone. Maybe have them tied to the rack and stretched until their limbs pop.
Been there. Done that.
A thousand times multiplied by a thousand more.
Just like he’d indulged in his share of hanging, beating, nailing, flailing, dunking, and more…
After awhile, the screams of those he punished lost all meaning. Seriously, extreme pain brought the language that spewed from those he tortured to an incomprehensible level. Argh. Agh. Wah. How was he supposed to understand that?
Some accused him of not caring, not understanding, yet Lucifer knew pain. Had suffered so much of it. He’d first truly felt the agony when he was cast from Heaven. Betrayed most cruelly. Wings torn from him. Banned from the only home he knew and thrust into a hot Hades filled with mindless beasts, sent there to die.
And for what?
A question he knew better than to ask. Yet, much like Eve later did after his seduction of her in the garden, some things couldn’t be ignored. He’d just wanted an answer.
Lucifer stopped his pacing to stare at a painting of a child, a small and slender lad. What the humans would call a teen, fresh faced and soft. A boy who still trusted as he knelt, staring at the sun, his hands clasped in prayer, asking a simple question. The image captured the moment before everything changed.
Only a few words that, even now, he couldn’t bear to think of. Because those words saw him banned. Cast off to basically die alone.
But that was a million years ago, and he’d survived despite it all. He’d evolved since that time, as had the Hell he’d been banished to. Few people knew, and even fewer recalled, that when Lucifer arrived in this dimension, a strange pocket of reality, the ground was frozen solid, a world encased in a veneer of ice. Everything paused. Waiting.
For its king.
Within the first few breaths of his arrival, he’d almost died. Then again, that first day. Week. Month. Year. Every day he’d fought. Every day he’d gotten stronger. It helped he wasn’t completely alone.
There were demons in this place. And spirits. Magic, too. A lonely castoff found companionship where he could. Lucifer taught the demons to speak and think. When that got boring, he created new species. Minions to surround him, none of them gentle or kind.
That was a long time ago. He’d gotten more discerning since then. It helped he eventually found a way to visit the human realm. Saw all the wandering souls. The ones heaven rejected, caught in limbo.
Lucifer snared them all. The ones too far gone, who didn’t remember their humanity, went right into the abyss, a hole in his realm that went farther than he dared explore. It would be thousands of years before he’d realize it recycled souls. But at the time, it provided a place to toss the most lost of the ghosts.
Over time, and with a little help from Eve’s descendants, humans became truly sentient. Why he remembered the first time he had a conversation with one. Grnrg had evolved quite a bit since his Neanderthal days.
Over time, Hell became populated, filling with souls, drawing Heaven’s attention. His brother—who’d decided he would be the one God—had initially seemed pleased to find his long-thought-dead brother, Lucifer.
A lie. Funny how Elyon—the name his brother had chosen for this epoch, though he’d been formerly known for a short time as Bob—got away with not telling the truth, but none of the souls entering his paradise could. Heaven rejected souls for the slightest of sins.
Over time, a competition evolved between him and Elyon. How could it not? The golden older brother who always had their creator’s blessing. Unlike Lucifer, cast down, unwelcome.
Now a king of something bigger.
As a ruler he had subjects. So many bloody souls and demons and other things that sometimes wanted to be called gods. Lucifer thought it was cute when Zeus and the others blustered about, showing their almighty strength. The weakened Greek gods no longer enjoyed the worshipping power that used to feed their strength.
I could crush them like bugs.
Lucifer didn’t need people to believe in him, although he did enjoy the adulation. He had existed long before the humans took over as sentient life. At times he missed the simplicity of the life led by dolphins, but they were chatty things and, for some reason, turned into sea monsters when they died and got reborn in Hell. The Styx was running amok with them, what with all the pollution these days.
A knock at the door made him stiffen. The painting of the c
hild—that pathetic twat—flipped and became a hellscape full of fire and damnation as befitted a dark king of his stature. Screw those that would call him prince.
He was the one and only leader of Hell. While he’d fathered many, all but a few had died. Usually by his hand when they came after his throne.
I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. He’d tried raising his children differently. Taking a hands-off approach with some. They ended up with daddy issues and tried to kill him.
Others of his progeny got a chance to live in the castle with him. No matter what he did, they eventually reached an age where they came after him. Sometimes with tears as they held their weapon over his chest, only to realize within moments they couldn’t kill him so easily.
In a few cases, it had hurt him when he had to act in return. Sometimes he mourned the deaths by not making any children for a century or two. But inevitably, the urge would rise to see himself in a smaller replica that would evolve. To teach someone of his blood. To perhaps finally find a child worthy of his throne.
That child wasn’t Bambi, who strutted into his office, wearing an inappropriate-length skirt and a crop top that showed off her bellybutton. Not that she had a bellybutton, just a jewel pierced into the flesh. Unlike his other living children, Bambi wasn’t born of a woman’s womb.
“Dark Lord”—she paused and gave him a sassy salute—“I heard you requested my presence.”
“Three days ago!” he barked. While he’d always hidden his pride in her loose morals, he couldn’t abide her new sassy manner.
“Are you sure it wasn’t like thirty minutes? Because that’s when Muriel told me to get my butt over here.”
Muriel, his other daughter. The one most like and least like him. His pride and joy. There was no point in pretending he didn’t have a favorite. His new son might eventually take the spot, but right now, he still shit his pants. “Where is your irritating sister?”
“Right here, Daddy.” Muriel suddenly shimmered into view.
A lesser man might have grabbed his chest and exclaimed about his heart. Good thing Lucifer had it removed and hidden in a new spot. Not even his wife knew where he’d stashed it.
His youngest had gotten good at wielding her magic. A mix of not just Hell and Earth from her mom and dad but also hints of other elements. Blame her different-flavored husbands. Each one enhanced her magic in a new way.
At times he envied his daughter and her harem. Then he inwardly flinched as he imagined Gaia punishing him for the thought.
“Where have you been?” he snapped. “I’ve been waiting.” Waiting was for those not trying to run a Hell with a bajillion citizens. Not to mention, the Devil should never wait for anyone.
Muriel appeared as lean as ever and mean looking, too. She’d chosen to wear form-fitting jeggings, molded to her skin and cinching in at the waist. She wore a light blouse, ankle boots, and a sword down her spine. A stylish girl like her father. “I was busy. You know, motherhood, being a wife to four guys, and dating a fifth.”
His eyebrows tried to escape his face. “A fifth? Since when?”
“Since a few weeks ago,” was Muriel’s coy reply.
“And you only tell me now?” How did he not know his daughter entertained yet another mate? Each one made her stronger. Eventually she’d reach a point he’d have to act. Killing a husband or two would reduce her power base, but she’d be pissed when she found out. And inevitably she would. He’d had it happen so many times before, and yet, what other choice did he have? Let her become more powerful than him?
He was too selfish to allow that.
“I haven’t told anyone because I was checking to see how he fit with my men first. If they approve, then I’ll probably marry him.”
“That’s quite the reverse harem. Kind of jelly,” Bambi declared.
“You were once dating a whole hockey team,” Muriel pointed out.
“Yeah, but none of them ever married me, and I got tired of dealing with their jilted partners.”
“Next time just kill them. It saves the hassle.” The advice came from experience, yet his girls both exclaimed.
“Really, Daddy,” Muriel chided. “That seems unnecessary.”
“So is rubbing my face in the fact you’re living your best life with your harem. It’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
Muriel smirked as she perched on his desk. “I know. What can I say? I learned to torture from the best.”
The disrespect was an homage to her parentage. “Keep irritating me, and I will abdicate and name you my heir again,” he threatened.
It still surprised him that when he’d had his mental lapse and Muriel had taken over, she’d not kept the job. She’d handed it back the moment he’d recovered.
It made no sense. All his children eventually betrayed him for the throne of Hell. But Muriel actually dumped it into his lap and then spent weeks after checking on him, making sure he wasn’t about to leave the ruling of the kingdom in her hands. It had to be a ploy. He just couldn’t decipher yet how it worked in her favor.
“Don’t you dare try and give me your shitty-ass job,” Muriel huffed, hopping off the desk. “I will drag you back kicking and screaming if you try.”
“I’ll do it.” Bambi raised her hand. She’d flung herself into the club chair facing his desk, legs over the armrest, almost showing off her cookie, looking like a whore.
The pride welling in him wasn’t enough to distract from his annoyance. “You are not ready to run Hell.”
His eldest pouted. “You gave it to Muriel once, and she’s younger than me.”
“Never again!” Muri declared. “You don’t want it either, sis.”
“I want to run something.” Bambi crossed her arms and almost fell out of her shirt. Just like her mother, who’d once fallen on his cock. He still maintained it wasn’t his fault he came. None of his three girlfriends at the time had any sympathy for him.
“What about that brothel you own?” the Devil pointed out.
“I sold it because it was boring.”
“If you’re bored, have sex,” Lucifer suggested. It always fixed him.
“I wish. It’s been ages since I’ve screwed anyone.” Rouged lips turned down.
“I find that hard to believe,” Muriel muttered.
That made two of them. Bambi’s mother had been a succubus, killed by a human while she was feeding. Bambi hadn’t been even two digits old. In a rare gesture of respect, he’d hired the best madams Hell had to offer to teach his daughter about her mother’s heritage as the most highly paid whore. He’d done his job so well his daughter held records. Slut of the Year. Whore of the Decade. He knew her mother, Mitzy, would be so proud.
“I’m abstaining so that I can make it special with someone.” Bambi might as well have dropped a bomb. Her words had an explosive effect.
Muriel’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, you’re in love.”
“Lust,” Bambi corrected. “But War won’t come near me if he thinks I’ve been with other men.”
“I can’t believe you’re still seeing him. And making such a sacrifice. He must be pretty special.” Muriel clasped her hands.
“I am dying to see what’s under that armor of his.” Bambi fanned herself.
Lucifer’s stomach heaved. “Can we stop with this mushy shit? I am going to barf.”
“Is this a bad time to say I love you, Daddy?” Muriel batted her lashes.
“What is wrong with you, saying that kind of crap?” He shook his finger at her, and overhead, thunder cracked. He’d been having more lapses lately. Too much stress. Not enough sex.
And given the very pregnant Gaia gave him the stink eye every time he glanced in her direction, that drought wouldn’t end any time soon.
“You’re the best father a girl could ask for. And an awesome granddaddy, too.” Muriel just kept going. The compliments over the top and turning into a mockery he could handle better than the emotional shit.
He snorted. “One day, I’m going
to kill you for that insolence.” He’d be sad when that day came.
“Only if I don’t kill you first, Daddy,” Muriel sang, and winked.
Muri had no idea she wasn’t the one he needed to worry about. The enemy that would truly challenge him had yet to be born…but it wouldn’t be long now. He had to prepare.
“Stop jibbering and jabbering. We are in a crisis, my daughters. A threat like you cannot imagine.” He flung an arm and wished he’d worn his cape. It would have added the necessary dramatic effect. At least the rest of him appeared regal. His black Hessian boots—taken from the body of a soldier on a battlefield before the blood had cooled—shone. His breeches were tucked into the tops of them and molded his firm thighs. Firmer than they’d been in centuries given the amount of nights he’d paced, bouncing his baby boy who wouldn’t sleep unless his daddy walked him. A child with the shittiest timing.
One second the kid was asleep in his crib, snoring through the damned monitor Gaia insisted they keep in the bedroom, but the moment Lucifer fondled his wife…
“Wah!”
And guess who got to get up since Gaia was hugely pregnant? It was his own fault, as she reminded him on a daily basis.
Even his dreams weren’t safe from his cock-blocking son. Fall into a nice dream where he was chasing wenches? The crying was usually accompanied by the smelliest diaper. And could he snap his fingers and clean up the mess?
Oh no, Gaia insisted they care for the child themselves. Like mere servants. No wonder people had lost respect for the lord of hell. A glorified nursemaid.
