by Nina Harper
“But you’re not?” Nathan asked.
Marten came up with a fresh drink for me and answered him. “I did not want my wife to die,” he said simply. “I plan on a very long immortality myself and wish only for Lily to share it for always, not for the few decades humans have.”
“Well,” Nathan said, looking uncomfortable. “I wish you both the best. I just wanted to stop by and congratulate you.” He gave me a look of such despair that I almost felt vindicated. Then he shook Marten’s hand and left.
I hoped I never saw him again.
Afterword
Spring had finally, actually arrived in the city. Pale green haze dusted the branches of the trees in Central Park, the winter coats and boots had given way to strappy sandals and jackets, and a few brave pretzel vendors were advertising Italian ices from their carts. Spring, and who would have guessed just a month ago that I would be engaged, with a big sparkly diamond on my left hand and a demon-in-training trailing after me through the SoHo shops.
Raven had practically cleaned out Betsey Johnson. I was thrilled she had chosen to wear the plaid skirt and short sweater jacket that had been the more conservative choices in her four-figure splurge. She looked perfectly respectable, not quite Junior League but not Needle Park anymore either.
“Done? Ready for something to eat?” I asked as we divided the parcels between us. The shopping trip was over for the moment because we couldn’t have carried another bag. I would have had it all delivered, but Raven insisted on taking them all with us.
“Okay,” Raven agreed almost cheerfully. “I know this place—”
“No,” I immediately broke in. “We’re going to Balthazar. It’s right around the corner. They have fennel ravioli to die for.”
“I’ve never had fennel ravioli. Sounds good,” my new little protégée chirped agreeably. Ever since I’d taken her out of Barneys to the Steve Madden shop she’d been almost frighteningly cheerful. Maybe we’d spoken too soon when we considered her future specialty in despair.
We entered the bistro and I spotted our table right away. Tucked into a private corner with red leather banquettes on two sides, Martha and Eros and Desi sat studying the menu. Satan was totally Martha today, taking a break for lunch with the ladies, all for Herself, and I was glad that She could manage a breather.
“I approve of the outfit,” the Prince of Hell said graciously to her newest minion.
Raven blushed and looked at her new Steve Madden pumps. “It was really nice of you to have Lily take me shopping. Thank you,” she said. Who would have thought that belligerent punk girl had manners hidden under her bad makeup and cheap jeans?
Martha beamed at the girl. “Our pleasure. Only your very first taste of vanity, I suppose, but it’s always best to start slowly. Vanity is such a lovely sin.”
“Well, it’s so popular right now,” Desi piped up.
“Just because a sin is popular doesn’t mean it’s not great. I mean, it’s not like gluttony or something,” Eros said. Martha smiled indulgently and shook Her head.
And then Sybil returned from the ladies’ and we ordered. Martha insisted on a magnum of champagne and toasted my engagement yet again. “Such a fine magician,” She said, nodding in approval. “I am so very glad that you’re with someone who appreciates your best qualities.” Her voice was silken, but I understood what she meant. She had not wanted to part with me, and was glad that my possible marriage would not invoke my get-out-of-Hell clause.
Raven was the center of attention and so I was free to look at Eros and wonder about her relationship with Beliel. This wasn’t over, I thought glumly. It was only beginning. I was going to have to find some evidence to prove to Eros that she had to break with Beliel, that he was the author of all our troubles. But this afternoon was about Raven.
“I’m just really honored that you’re all here in person,” Raven sighed, even though she’d been introduced to everyone. “I mean, here I am with Satan’s Chosen. With Herself present. I’m just—wow.”
We were going to have to work on her vocabulary.
Martha smiled benevolently. “Well, dears, there is nothing so pleasant as the company of girlfriends. No one else is as dear to Me. And so, if you all agree, I think we can add one more to our company.”
Sybil smiled and Desi patted Raven’s hand.
And Martha handed Raven a small box in glossy Tiffany blue. Raven gasped.
“Well, open it,” Eros told her.
And there, nestled in cotton, was a tiny gold trident pin. The same trident that made up the jeweled pendants Sybil and Eros and Desi and I wore, that all of Satan’s Chosen were permitted to display as the mark of Her favor. Not the necklace of one of the Chosen, not yet, but it did identify her as a demon who Satan had personally acknowledged.
“I . . . wow . . . thank you. Wow,” Raven stammered. Well, I could understand her loss for words. Demons had schemed for millennia for that token of appreciation, and here she was not yet a year dead and presented with her own trident.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on,” Eros directed her.
But Raven was overwhelmed, so Desi did the honors.
“And remember, no one is more important than your girlfriends. Ever,” Satan said.
Raven’s eyes shone as she looked at each of us. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Girlfriends are the best.”
Also by Nina Harper
SUCCUBUS IN THE CITY
Succubus Takes Manhattan is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Del Rey Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2008 by Bill Fawcett & Associates
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Del Rey Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
DEL REY is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trade-mark of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-345-50954-3
www.delreybooks.com
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