Bride of the Sea Monster - Eve Langlais Page 0,5

hair in a chignon to truly complete her look. It might have looked smarter without the baby spit-up on her shoulder. It seemed everyone in Hell was popping out babies these days.

“I won’t do it!”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Marry some monster. It’s not my fault my ancestors cursed a family a gazillion years ago. They probably deserved it.”

“You’re getting married and didn’t tell me?” The affront on her face meant I had to fetch the letter and smooth it out.

“Check out what I got in the mail. Some dude begging me to marry his nephew to save his life.”

“Oooh, that sounds positively medieval. Give me a peek.” Ysabel snared the letter, read it once, frowned, then reread it before eyeing me. “I take it congrats aren’t in order?”

I exploded. “Oh, no. Not happening. Over my dead body.”

“Do not say that loudly. You know Lucifer’s lawyers can have that arranged.”

“I won’t marry him,” I huffed.

“Even if you can save him?”

“Not happening. I am not marrying a sea monster.”

“You’re making assumptions,” Ysabel noted.

“Dad said he was a kraken. And his name is Killian Kraken.” I pointed to the bottom where the letter finished with.

…It is my sincere hope you’ll come to our aid. My nephew’s name is….

Followed by an address in the fifth ring.

“Maybe he’s handsome.”

“He’s a beast.”

“So what if he is? Appearances don’t mean everything. Look at my Remy. Big, tough demon on the outside, gooey marshmallow on the inside.”

“Your Remy is a stud who could make a fortune dancing on stage.”

Ysabel frowned. “Did you just call my husband handsome?”

Given my friend’s jealous streak, I knew to quickly defuse her by saying, “He’s much too pretty and muscled. Ick. Ew.”

At that, Ysabel sniffed. “Well, if you’re going to be that picky about your men, no wonder you won’t even contemplate this marriage.”

“It’s blackmail.”

“So you won’t even give him a chance?”

“A chance for what? To get crushed by tentacles and a mouth big enough to swallow ships?”

“Making a lot of generalizations there, Sasha. Could be he’s a nice guy.”

“Don’t care. He’s not the one I’m supposed to marry.” Because I’d seen the future. And my babies didn’t have tentacles. Now, if only my ability would show me my husband’s face and maybe hint at his name. Then I could skip this whole dating bullshit and move right to the fun part.

I tore up the letter.

“What are you doing?”

“Cancelling the engagement before it even happens. I won’t marry a stranger.”

I swear the universe took note of my words and saved them to screw me over later.

But first, it offered me some gentle lube in the form of a pamphlet currently being waved by Ysabel.

“What’s that?”

“The real reason I came for a visit. It’s an extra ticket for the upcoming Hell Cruise, adventures on the high seas edition, coasting through the Bermuda Triangle.”

“Isn’t that Earth-side?”

Ysabel nodded. “It’s right smack dab in the middle of the tropics, and I got you a ticket.”

“Why?” I frowned, especially since I’d not seen a cruise in my future. Although, I did recall seeing some water, lots of it. It might explain why I’d had an urge to splurge on a new bathing suit last week.

“Lucifer ordered a bunch of tickets for his minions, except he miscounted. So, we ended up with a few extras. He told me I could take one, but the baby is too young for that kind of travel, which almost made Remy cry. Since I can’t use the ticket, I’m giving it to you.”

I hesitated. “Given my current sea monster problem, is it wise for me to travel on an ocean?”

Ysabel laughed. “Please. Everyone knows there are no kraken left on Earth. It will be perfectly safe. You’ll see.”

Why then could I hear the ominous strains of the wedding march playing?

3

Killian Kraken: Just keep the drinks coming.

By the time I readied to leave for the cruise, we’d still not received a reply to my uncle’s letter. Not that I’d expected one.

I couldn’t blame the woman for ignoring my plight. She didn’t know me. She didn’t care about my future or lack thereof. Even if she did, there were so many other factors in play.

Who the fuck created such a curse in the first place? One that could only be broken if I married a descendant of the family we’d supposedly wronged? And not just wed. She truly had to love me.

It wasn’t fair. Meanwhile, the clock ticked. My birthday getting closer and closer. The itch to slip into the sea and remain got stronger and

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