by Eve Langlais
“I can’t imagine.” Because that seemed like a perfect time to use that expression. “And Gaia’s okay with Nefertiti watching the child?”
“Why wouldn’t she be? I used to let Muri visit with her all the time. And Bambi credits her time in the tower as the reason she won Slut of the Year so many times in a row. But only because I don’t participate anymore.” Lucifer had been the undisputed champ for a long time.
“Hey, if you aren’t attached to your head, then who am I to dispute your choice in childcare?” I shrugged.
“I smell the censure in your tone.” The devil puffed up his chest.
Such preening had long ago lost its ability to impress. Don’t get me wrong, in a knock-them-down battle, Lucifer would hand me my ass. But that didn’t mean I rolled over to him.
“Gee, why would anyone have a problem with a sorceress, almost as old as you, caring for an innocent child?”
“Ain’t nothing innocent about my son,” Lucifer bragged. “And how come you’re not bugging Adexios? He has a sea monster watching after his kids.”
“Sweets would pulverize anyone who harmed a hair on their heads.”
“I know, and it’s so unfair. How come I don’t have a sea monster?” Lucifer pouting was a scary thing. “Not yet, at any rate. How is Ian doing?” His teeth gleamed.
I glared. “Ian isn’t working for you.” The devil kept offering, though. Wanted a kraken of his very own on the payroll.
“Then you better help me out.”
“With what?” I’d agree to many things to get the devil to walk away from the kid. Yes, kid. At thirty-two, Ian hadn’t experienced anything. A child still in so many ways.
“Something weird is going on. I can feel it. Coming from this very ship!” His brows beetled—impressively I might add—actually shifting across his face.
“And what do you expect me to do about it?”
“I need you to be my eyes and ears, Shax. Flush out the threat.”
“Other than food poisoning, I highly doubt there’s anything on this ship that can hurt you. Or Hell for that matter.”
“You can’t know that for sure. You haven’t even looked.”
“I can be sure because even if there was something hinky on board, I’d say it’s the humans on this Earth plane that need to worry. Not you. Unless you’re planning to bring back the threat if it turns out to be alive.”
Lucifer rubbed his chin. “Depends on if it would make a good pet. I’d like to get Damian something unique.”
“Why not another dragon? Like you got your granddaughter, Lucinda.”
The devil shook his head. “Too simple. I want something a little cooler.”
“I swear, you try to give my nephew to your kid as a pet, and we will have a problem.”
“Threatening me?” Lucifer huffed some smoke.
“Don’t touch Ian.”
“You want to make a deal, then you will do my bidding even if you are retired. Must be nice. I’d like to retire, too, you know.”
“Then do it.”
The devil snorted. “And who would rule Hell in my stead? Remember those times when I stepped down for a little bit?”
Hell had turned into a veritable Hell. Most days, it wasn’t bad living there. A bit ashy. Always kind of warm. But in many respects, it was like living on Earth, just more violent and crowded. The human souls didn’t always recycle themselves all that quickly. In some ways, the Lilith incident helped. An old, old witch—older even than Lucifer—used souls to power spells. It had cleared out thousands, making room for the ever-incoming influx.
“Okay, so you’re needed. Boo. Hoo. You’ve been doing it for thousands of years. Big deal. Delegate.”
“I have been delegating,” Lucifer grumbled. “And yet, some things require my attention. Did you know my seers are all claiming a calamity is about to strike? Again. And once more, the useless fuckers can’t tell me when or what is coming. Dooming me to fail. How hard would it be to tell if it’s another flood, meaning I should put in an order for more beach and sailing gear? What if it’s an ice age? Totally different wardrobe required. I have an appearance to maintain.”
“I know.”
The devil had a few halls in the library dedicated to fashion magazines of him. Only one copy per issue. All stored. Every so often, a punishment for a soul involved cataloguing all the various styles.
“We better not be in line for another catastrophic event. It took forever to recover from the deaths last time. And there’s more of them now. Imagine, billions of souls coming to my gates, demanding entrance. The paperwork. The crowding. Why, it would be pure…Hell.”
The devil hated bureaucracy and yet had his government buried in layers of it. The problem with having too many lawyers and politicians in Hell? Their evil ways rubbed off.
“I’ll keep an eye open, but my first priority is still Ian. I am not going to abandon him during his final days.”
“Bunch of drama llamas.” The devil smirked. “You act as if he’s dying.”
“He’s going to become a kraken forever.”
“And? Seems like the perfect life to me. Swim all day. Eat when you want. Mermaids to cater to your every whim. The strength to smash ships and drown sailors.” He rubbed his hands in glee.
“Not everyone aspires to be a monster.
“Underachievers.”
“Which reminds me, I hear your son is thriving.”
At the statement, Lucifer grimaced. “The hellion of my loins is growing. And loud. He yells and expects everyone to drop what they’re doing to attend him.”
“Meaning he takes after you.”
The insult brought a smile to the devil’s face. “Chip off the old demon. Which could be a problem. Have you seen the meme circulating around Hell media?”
“Can’t say as I have,” I lied. Making Lucifer proud I’m sure even as he probably wondered why.
“Some ridiculous cartoon showing Damian killing his mum. And me. But that’s to be expected. Not so crazy about the threat to Gaia. I won’t have her hurt.” Then as if realizing what he admitted, he added gruffly, “If she dies, so does the planet. Can’t have that now, can we?”
“No, that would be grave news. But surely the cartoon is just that—satire.”
Lucifer looked grave. “I wish it were only that. It was drawn by the great-grandson of Nostradamus.”
Hmm. That made it a little more serious. “What will you do about it?”
The Lord of Hell shrugged. “What can I do? If I kill the lad, his mother kills me. Keep him alive, the boy might take my throne.”
“Or you could retire and let him take over.” I offered a third choice.
Lucifer almost looked sad as he said, “They never select that option.” He shook his head and as if to compensate for being somber, grinned almost maniacally. “Keep your eyes peeled, your dick washed, and be ready to inspect bikinis at any kind of notice. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, which is to say, break every law and conduct every sin you can.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“And do let me know if you come across anything that might cause harm to my wife. Could be there is a person with a misguided notion that I need protection from a certain old fable that might be hidden in an old library.”
I didn’t dare swallow as the devil showed me the astute brain behind the façade.
“I will most certainly inform you of any threat to your family or yourself.”
“Do so. And before you inform anyone else.” Lucifer winked. “It will be our little secret.”
He disappeared, and I groaned.
I’m going to be fed to the hounds for sure.
Dinnertime arrived, and I was ready. I knocked on my nephew’s cabin door. He answered, already looking half-cut. The drinks came free with our ticket. It seemed Ian was taking advantage.
“Uncle Shax, you are looking spiffy.”
“Thanks.” I’d dressed to impress in the off-chance Dottie actually showed.
&nbs
p; Arriving at the dining level, we took over a table for four people. I and my nephew, but no Dottie. Sure, she’d said no. However, I had a feeling she might show. Or was that false hope?
Ian noticed me scanning the crowd as he nursed a glass of wine, his entrée salad already devoured. At least he was still eating. The boy tasted everything in sight, cramming in every experience he could find.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked.
“Just an old friend. I ran into her earlier.”
Ian arched a brow. “An old friend? I thought they were all dead. Or working at the library.”
“I have friends outside work,” I grumbled.
“Name one.”
I frowned. Lucifer or Gaia. No others came to mind, and I wasn’t about to use Dottie as an example. “None of your business.”
“Man or woman?” he asked, pouring some more wine.
“Woman.” No point hiding it. What if she appeared?
“Oooh. Not even a day out of port, and already hooking up,” Ian crooned.
“We are not hooking up. Just two old friends, looking to catch up.”
“Only old friends? Goodness, and here I thought we used to be more.” Her voice hit me first, and I craned my head backwards to see her still looking old.
“Dottie. You made it.” I scrambled from my seat and did the courtly thing, pulling out a chair for her. She sat, tucking a giant pleather handbag beside her.
Ian blinked. “This is your Dottie?”
In a moment of drunken weakness, I’d once admitted to my nephew that I loved a girl. “It is. Say hello to Dorothy Pike, the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Her lips pursed. “Not a girl. And not so beautiful anymore.”
I leaned down as I tucked in her chair. “When I look at you, I still see you in that light blue frock you used to wear, and that sweet smile.”
She shivered. I noticed.
Ian also saw and turned pale. “I’ve heard great things about you.”
“Your uncle says you have a problem.” Dorothy bluntly put it out there.
“You might say that.” Ian’s smile was faint.
“I have experience with curses, but I won’t promise anything. Give me your hand.” She held out hers.
Ian shook his head. “Probably better I don’t. I know curses can cause some backlash.”
The dumb twat was being a gentleman. I’d taught him well. Too well.
He almost got a cuff as I growled, “Don’t be stupid. Give Dottie your hand. She’s just going to look.”
“I promise you won’t hurt me.” Dottie winked, looking benign. But I knew better. Even in the library, I’d heard stories of Dorothy. Some called her Tempest due to her witchy powers over the sea.
“Fine.” Ian held out his hand.
A fit of strange jealousy consumed me as Dorothy grabbed his palm. I bit down on my inner lip and watched her expression. Once upon a time, she’d worn everything on her face, and I’d been too naïve to read it.
Now, older and wiser, I didn’t plan to make the same mistakes.
“The curse is culminating,” she remarked, her voice low and monotone. “It’s so strong right now in his blood. Almost boiling over. He never bled any of it off to a child.”
“No kids,” Ian snapped. “This curse dies with me.”
“It’s intricately wound around him. It’s not a simple peel to remove.” She let go of his hand and glanced at me. “I’m sorry, but unless he concludes the terms of his curse, I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. Whoever laid the spell did it well.”
A grimace pulled Ian’s face. “Thanks for the honesty. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to get drunk and see how much of my fortune I can gamble away.”
I reached for him, and to my surprise, he came in close enough for a hug—and to whisper advice. “Enjoy dinner with your Dottie. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
I realized then that Ian had created an excuse to leave us alone. I didn’t know whether to hug him closer or slap him for playing matchmaker.
Ian left, and Dorothy almost followed.
“Where are you going?” I asked as I sat down, causing her to pause.
“I looked at your nephew as requested.”
“But you haven’t had dinner.” The plate of prime roast landed in front of us, steaming, rare red, and delicious-looking.
“I guess, I could eat.” She joined me and proceeded to pack away her meal, then dessert, not saying much. But then again, neither did I.
I instead took in the changes in her, from the plumpness of her cheeks showing an enjoyment of food that she displayed with every savored bite. The curly hair, barely brushed, the streaked gray similar to that of a cloudy day. The lines on her face showed she’d lived a full life with happiness yet sorrow. Smiles and a few scowls.
“You’re staring,” she grumbled.
“Is that a problem?”
“Yes.” She stabbed at a cherry that rolled on her plate.
“You led a full life,” I stated.
“Is that a nice way of saying I look ridden hard and put away worn-out?”
“What? No.” I chuckled. “More that you had a life. A good one?”
“Yes.”
“Until your husband died.”
Her lips twitched. “More so after he did. Don’t get me wrong. Gerard was a good husband. But a human one. He couldn’t understand me.”
“I didn’t either at the time.”
“And you think you do now?” Dottie asked, quirking a brow.
The move was so familiar, I laughed. “No. I would never dare to presume. I’d say you’re even more complicated now.”
“At least you recognize it.”
I sobered. “I always did. You—” I would have said something probably super revealing and sappy, but suddenly, our table wobbled. I glanced at it. Then around me, where nothing else shook.
“Was that you?” she asked.
“No.”
The tablecloth began to slide, the cutlery and dishes crashing to the floor. Dottie frowned and used magic to yank it back into place. “We must have tilted.”
No, we hadn’t. “Give me a second.”
I leaned down and shoved my head under the cloth for a peek. A green face peeked out from under the table. Grinned. Turned to look over his shoulder at Dottie’s feet. Sensible white runners on them. The creature held up a marker.
“Don’t you dare.” I dove under the table, hearing Dottie exclaim, “What are you doing?”
I wrestled with the goblin, thumping it between the legs, managing to wrench the marker away from it. The goblin harrumphed and managed to wiggle free but not before jostling the hand with the marker.
The tablecloth lifted, and Dottie glared at me. “Excuse me.”
“I know this looks bad,” I said from between her legs, the marker in my hand, the tip still pressed against her feminine parts. “There was a goblin.”
“On a cruise line of this caliber? On a maiden voyage?” She sniffed.
“I swear. There was a goblin.”
“And you’re telling me you know how to handle goblins now on top of being head librarian? What’s next? Arachnid wrangler? If you’re going to pretend, Shax, at least make it believable.”
Dottie left, and I spent a moment on the floor gaping. She really didn’t have the slightest clue about me. Which made me determined to show her what I was about.
First, I checked on Ian. He was gambling, with a woman on his lap. Good for him! He deserved every ounce of pleasure he could wring with the time he had left.
Then I went looking for a drink and ended up finding Dottie in the lounge. I deliberately sat beside her.
She delivered a side-eye. “You again. Don’t see a fellow in centuries, and suddenly he’s crowding me.”
“Just rekindling a friendship.”
“Were we ever friends, Shax?” She gave me a challenging stare. “Because I recall you telling me to get out of your face after a tiny
little booboo.”
“You destroyed several hundred irreplaceable works.”
“By accident. Technically, you started that fire when you knocked over the candle.”
“Because you snuck up on me.” Intent on my work, I hadn’t expected her voice to distract me. And I most certainly hadn’t been prepared for her kiss.
“The candle was your fault,” she insisted.
“Agreed. But the water you drenched that section of the library in to put it out?” I reminded.
Her lips quirked. “Overkill.”
“Just by about ten thousand tons.”
“I’ll admit I miscalculated the magic. You didn’t have to throw me out of your life.”
I gaped at her. Perhaps a little dumbly. “When did I tell you to get out of my life?”
“You told me to leave.”
I remembered the incident as if it had happened yesterday.
I was working on a particularly interesting book written in an ancient language no one remained to teach. I’d been muddling along, trying to figure it out, when Dottie marched into the section of the library I’d staked out as my own. I’d spread all my things out on a table and was bent over when she arrived.
My head remained bowed, my interest in the book feigned lest she guess how attuned I was to her presence. I sensed more than saw her moving close behind me.
When she placed her hands over my eyes, she whispered, “Surprise.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my heart racing so fast and pounding so hard, I feared she’d hear it. I never understood why she came to see me. Why she always smiled.
She smiled at me now as she said, “Looking for you. I haven’t seen you around. I missed you.” Then she did the most astonishing thing. She leaned in and kissed me.
On the lips.
It startled me enough that I jumped. My elbow knocked into a candle. It toppled right onto my book.
“Uh-oh.”
The dry pages immediately ignited and, infused with panic, I slapped at the flames.
“Hold on, I can put it out.” Dorothy snapped her fingers before I could warn her. Back in the day, the library didn’t have protection against magic.
I felt the power of it a moment before the space flooded. And I mean flooded. A tidal wave appeared out of nowhere and soaked not just the book on fire, but me, and that entire section of the library.
