by R. J. Blain
I wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister, although I would never blame my parents for not having another child. Between my various exploits and destructive tendencies, they hadn’t been able to realistically afford even me, although they’d made it work somehow. “He?”
“Yahweh as modern folks tend to pronounce it. The God of Christianity. Usually, we just say He or Him. Don’t ask me why. Last time I used Yahweh, Lucifer cuffed my ears for being too familiar. He is literally one of my in-laws, and I still get my ears cuffed. But, as Lucifer isn’t here to stop me, Yahweh. It’s just consonants in the original Hebrew version of the Bible, but if He wants to be named, we tend to use Yahweh. You won’t see Him, though, not unless Diana is around to help out. He is really cautious around mortals.”
“Am I at much risk of actually meeting Him?”
“Unfortunately. He meddles almost as much as Lucifer does. Or fortunately, if you happen to be devout.”
If I happened to be devout? Had nobody thought to look into what I believed in? Or did Lucifer simply not care? “Would Lucifer actually go after someone who is devout?”
“Absolutely. It amuses him.”
“Well, I’m not precisely devout, but I’ve gone to church a few times. I have no urges to go back to church, although I do like some of the Christmas celebrations. Those are pretty cheerful and nice, and the plays are cute.”
“I sometimes sneak to a church to watch the plays. Some of them are absolutely hysterical. This Christmas, I would be pleased to help you go to a prime viewing. I’ll ask one of the other in-laws to tell me which one is most likely to produce hilarity. We’ll have a great time.”
“And they don’t mind a demon going to their Christmas celebrations?”
Jonas grinned. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
I suspected his friendly, outgoing exterior hid some form of dark interior, but would he be more like sinfully delicious chocolate or something less pleasant? Tar would match well for his home in the Devil’s many hells, but I’d hope for chocolate—and that his flaws were more like pieces of broken almonds mixed in with his chocolate rather than the whole almonds.
I loathed when I got broken almonds in my chocolate bars, but I ate them anyway.
“Your sister seems to think you’re severely flawed. Diana agrees, based on you opting to hide Lucifer’s wallet behind Darlene’s milk. Personally, I don’t see what’s wrong with them. Pranks are entertaining, and that seems fairly harmless as far as pranks go.”
“If he hadn’t left his wallet out unattended, I wouldn’t have moved it into my sister’s office, hiding it behind her milk. Honestly, they’re mad at me because I tricked Lucifer into blaming Darlene for something I did. Once they realized I was the aggressor, I paid for it.” Jonas sighed, gesturing to the duffle bag. “This is part of my payment. I was ordered to, while wearing my brother-in-law’s clothes, go buy games suitable for two players, get your signature on these papers, and keep you entertained for the rest of the day. That’s only the beginning of my punishment.”
I raised a brow. “I mean, I guess having to babysit a not-quite-dead chick with no hair is a bit of a punishment. I already miss my hair. It used to be blonde and pretty long, and I could make it curl nicely when I wanted.”
“Hair restoration is not beyond Lucifer. You can stipulate he attend to your hair needs as part of your contract.”
“That’s okay. I already asked my dad about it. He knows somebody, and it makes him feel useful. In the meantime, I’ll cope or wear a wig. And I don’t need Lucifer to scalp some blonde for her hair.”
Jonas snorted. “He just might, too.”
“He does seem quite unreasonable. How flustered did he get when you stole his wallet?”
“It was pretty amazing. I thought he’d finally blow smoke out of his ears after the first twelve hours of being absolutely certain he’d left his wallet in his office. I mean, he had. It’s not my fault he left his office unattended with the door open and the wallet in plain sight. My fingers got itchy, so I helped myself. I rewarded myself with a twenty for having successfully stolen his wallet, and then I tossed it in the fridge, after making sure I inventoried everything in it, in case someone else found the wallet first. I may have stolen one of my sister’s little love notes and slipped it in with his cash while I was at it. I don’t see why people think I should resist temptation. Lucifer didn’t turn me into an angel. I’m a demon, and I have a reputation to maintain.”
As Jonas wouldn’t be maintaining his reputation through his sexual exploits, I could understand how indulging in a little evil might appeal to him. “You let him off lightly. Only a twenty?”
“He didn’t have that much on him, and he usually keeps cash for disgustingly benevolent deeds, so I didn’t want to clean him out.”
Apparently, the incubus was inflicted with goody-goody tendencies, which meant I needed to take care about mentioning anything to do with my magic.
Then again, would the Devil punish or reward me for having burned his little mansion down? Time would tell—or not.
I would hope for not, as an extended lifespan hadn’t been on my agenda when I’d lit the first match.
“Honestly, I’m confused. Lucifer doesn’t exactly strike me as a malevolent being. He’s an annoying being, but he doesn’t seem malevolent.”
“Oh, he can be plenty malevolent. Making me a monogamous incubus is malevolence of the highest order. I’m basically the laughingstock of his hells, and the bastard knows it. It beats the alternatives, but he went slightly overboard with my conversion. He takes more care now—and he’s far more careful when picking species for his newest targets.” Jonas frowned and regarded the papers before staring at the IV pumping me full of some lycanthrope’s blood. “Would you prefer if I read the documents to you?”
“Spare us both the headache.” I held out my sole available hand for the sheets. “One paper at a time so I don’t have to juggle them, and if someone didn’t send a notepad with you for questions or modification requests, there should be some scraps of paper or something in the pile near the door.”
Jonas passed over the first sheet, and I read over the internship proposal, which boiled down to upgrades of everything I had requested, a horse capable of surviving in the Devil’s many hells, as I would require transportation between the various residences, a residence in hell, a permanent residence in a location of my choice just about anywhere on Earth, a vehicle to be parked at the permanent residence of my choice, all the education my greedy little heart could want, enough money I questioned if I needed the education at all, and legal representation should I ever require it.
It took pressing my lips together to keep from cackling over the offer of legal representation. “How good is his legal representation, anyway?”
“Lucifer is a disgustingly good attorney when he wants to be. Don’t let him trick you. He goes to the courts on Earth to keep an eye on the current times and the law. If he’s playing attorney, I wish the mortals luck winning a case against him, and that’s even if they bring in archangels. The offer of representation is a good one. I suggested that, as I’ve had more than my fair share of incidents. I get representation grudgingly, because Lucifer would be embarrassed if his brother-in-law got into trouble.”
“Yet Kanika gets into trouble all of the time.”
Jonas snickered. “That poor girl just can’t help it. It’s simple, Sandra. Kanika is absolutely incapable of sensibly showing affection to most people. So, Lucifer tries to be a good father for her, she gets flustered, and while she’s flailing, something inevitably gets broken. Then she gets even more flustered. Lucifer is an empath when he wants to be—he needs to be able to tell how the fucking assholes tick. So, when his attention flusters her in a good way, he shows her more of what’s making her happy. But this ultimately results in property damage. Here’s a good example. Lucifer took her to a car dealership, because he wanted her to have something nice that was hers and not Malc
olm’s. She fell in love with a car, and Lucifer said it was hers. She got so flustered she about entered orbit, shifted into one of her larger forms, and did a significant amount of damage to the car she loved as a result. For the record, Lucifer bought the car at full price, paid for it to be restored to like new, and gave it to her. She cried, and she gets seriously embarrassed when she cries, so she did what startled cats do. She ran. Unfortunately, he gave her the car after dinner in Athens, and she ran right out into traffic, thus creating a traffic accident and damaging even more cars. Some of the court cases were settlements about that.”
My mouth dropped open at the source of my woes. “He was trying to buy her a present?”
“Yep. That’s it, that’s all. He was trying to show her he cared by getting her something she liked. This crap happens all of the time. And then they fight because they like it. Really, living in the same household with Lucifer is a treat. There’s so much drama, and I’m not the one causing it.”
“Except with your whining,” I muttered.
“That’s all on Lucifer. I didn’t ask him to make me among the most dedicated of men. After my conversion, I tried to be a proper incubus. I about threw up on my second date. It turns out I have a cooldown period between women. I do not handle rebounds well. Of course, I will deny that should such an accusation be leveled in my direction. I have some pride.”
“Have you tried burning Lucifer’s house down? I mean, that sounds like an offense worthy of some arson.” Shit. I eyed the IV, wondering if there’d been something other than some lycanthrope’s blood lurking in the line, removing my ability to control my mouth. “That wasn’t a nice thing of me to suggest.”
Jonas cleared his throat. “No, but lately, that’s only because someone beat me to the chase. The main house is in the heart of a lava field, so it’s invulnerable to fire. Let me tell you, though. Lucifer has a serious crush on the arsonist. I do not envy the poor bastard once Lucifer gets his hands on him.”
“His hands?” I asked, hoping the incubus viewed me as curious rather than guilty. I also found it promising that Jonas didn’t question my suggestion of arson.
Then again, in Athens, the Devil always made the news.
“Diana worked some practitioner magic because Lucifer refused to peek. He likes rewarding ballsy humans, and it doesn’t get much ballsier than that. As such, he’s determined to find the arsonist the good old-fashioned way. That’s actually one of our errands once you’re released from here. We’re to go have a look at the site and see if we can find anything. I figure he just thinks you could use some country air and is using a visit to his burned-out mansion as an excuse. Diana was able to get a basic description, but she wasn’t able to pierce the arsonist’s shroud. That revved Lucifer’s engine, because he always needs people capable of making shrouds—and shrouding is some pretty significant magical work.”
No kidding. I’d worked long and hard to make sure nobody could figure out I’d torched the place. “Wait. Lucifer wants to reward the arsonist?”
“The arsonist was that brilliant. From what Diana could tell, there was zero actual malevolence from the arsonist. She speculates it was possibly a mercenary hit, but an ethical mercenary did the job. There was evidence the arsonist had checked for living beings inside. We’d just emptied the house because the chain of court cases were done, so Lucifer wanted to head home for a while. So, outside of some random stuff nobody will really miss, it was just a house. It was an expensive hit, but it was harmless.”
“Arson is harmless?” I blurted.
“Realistically, the only thing actually attacked was Lucifer’s wallet—and Lucifer really respects successful assaults on his wallet.”
I eyed the paper I held before handing it over so I could check over the next sheet. “The more I learn, the more I believe Lucifer is even crazier than I thought.”
“Running the hells is hard on a man. I respect Lucifer a lot for what he handles. Honestly, I had a lot of reservations about my sister falling in with him, but he’s the best thing to ever happen to her—and I’m pretty sure she’s the best thing to have happened to him. Darlene wants everyone to be as happy as she is, and as her brother, I get the lion’s share of her attention if she’s not working on another project. For that, I’ll apologize in advance. Should we pursue a relationship founded solely on evening trysts, that will drive her insane, as she knows I need to feed but wants me to enjoy the rest of the benefits of a relationship. Once you’re out of the hospital and healing, we can discuss an arrangement, but I prefer my women to be completely sober when making decisions like that.”
Damn. Lucifer must have done a lot of adjustments to the poor incubus for him to potentially risk a guaranteed meal most nights of the week. “Just because they give me drugs through the fancy line attached to my arm doesn’t mean I’m not sober. I’m just a tiny bit high.”
Jonas glanced at the IV stand and its attached monitor. “You’re on morphine, Sandra.”
“Really? I feel like I should be much higher than I am if they have me on morphine. Damn. Honestly, I don’t feel impaired. Now, granted, the pain has been a beast, but it could be worse. Hell, it was worse before that lycanthrope decided to serve as my blood bank. For which I’m exceptionally grateful, by the way. I’d be dead right now without that lycanthrope.” Shrugging, I checked the sheet and handed it back to Jonas. “Seriously, I feel like I should counter this offer out of pure spite, but I don’t see anything wrong with this. I’m going to be compensated far better than entry-level attorneys with a new JD. This is more than fair.”
“I’ll put a note to compensate you for having to deal with a hungry incubus but otherwise leave the contract as is. Basically, I live to nag Lucifer, and this gives me an excuse to nag him.”
“Maybe you should be his intern?”
“According to him, my full-time job is to make sure I’m accessible for when my sister wants a hug. Really, I’m Darlene’s bitch, and I do whatever she needs. I’m like an office gopher who rarely has to actually work, so I entertain myself cooking and handling things in the kitchen and around the house. I’m not sure if that was one of Lucifer’s nicer adjustments, but I’ve grown to actually enjoy a lot of domestic things. Gardening in hell isn’t precisely simple, but I whined until I got a greenhouse. Now my greenhouse is one part greenhouse and one part aviary. I’m the only one right now having any success getting an endangered bird species to breed in captivity. I’m not even cheating. I just got a little overenthusiastic and grew every native plant I could find and gave them a mansion in Lucifer’s mansion.”
“You garden?”
“It fills the time, and I find it to be calming. Hungry demons need calming activities, and it turns out gardening is my calming activity, and I love all things tomatoes. I hope you like tomatoes, because I’m overwhelmed with tomato plants.”
I eyed the incubus with interest. “I do like tomatoes, especially when they’re transformed into sauce or chili. You lie and steal, but you cook and garden. I am going to need disclosure about your other bad habits.”
“I lie and steal a lot. I have itchy fingers and a prankster’s heart. Frankly, I’m morally and ethically twisted on a good day. I’m terrible husband material.”
“But do you clean?”
“That depends on if I’m being paid in sex,” he admitted.
I considered my choices, which involved a bad husband that cleaned or more lonely nights and inevitable continuation of my virginity on grounds of being too lazy to go get laid. When I considered the downsides, was he really that bad of a husband? “I have no tolerance for domestic violence, and I will carve parts off any man I’m in a relationship with that even tries that shit. Consider yourself warned.”
“I don’t cheat or abuse my partners. Usually, I’m the therapy plan for abused women, so I’m more likely to pamper you to a near-death state than actually hurt you. Well, sprains during vigorous engagements are possible.”
I pointed at the papers. “Give
me those damned things, give me a pen, and I’m handwriting a note that until further notice, you’re my bitch. Darlene will just have to go find another bitch.”
Jonas snorted, but he handed me the papers and a pen. “I’m not sure a man who doesn’t condone violence against his partner should be a foundational point for a long-term relationship.”
“Obviously, you haven’t investigated domestic violence rates, Jonas. I have. Use your phone and have a peek while I sign these and add an addendum that this contract is dependent on you becoming my bitch.”
With a frown and furrowed brows, Jonas pulled a phone out from his pocket and tapped at the screen. While he researched domestic violence rates, I signed the papers, and on the back of the copy meant for Lucifer, I declared Jonas was now my bitch and that Darlene would need to find a replacement bitch, although she could borrow him for hugs as needed to keep the whining to a minimum. Once done, I showed him my addendum. “Think this will work?”
“I’m pretty sure this confirms you’re rather high from your medications. My name is Jonas, not Darlene’s bitch—or even formerly Darlene’s bitch. At least use my name if you’re going to turn me into your property.”
I frowned, and then I put a star beside every reference to Darlene’s bitch and wrote Jonas with a matching star beneath it. “Do you have a last name?”
“For purposes of that document, I think you’ve established the identity of Darlene’s bitch well enough.” Jonas sighed at his phone. “Considering these numbers, I admit I might be convinced to make similar bargains and demands in your situation. It’s just safer not to date, isn’t it?”
