her up a little, Lucifer wanted to observe Riona’s power and prowess in the field. The results were… enthralling. Better than expected even. Not only had she kicked ass, but there was a moment when the Keystone was tempted to have sympathy for a demon. A demon who had already screwed her over once, and probably would again if given the chance.
Lucifer tingled with anticipation. If she could be broken by compassion for a member of the damned who had given her nothing except a good roll in the hay, what would be possible if she found herself a woman in love?
“Of course, with me handling it, what else did you expect, right?” Jerry threw the towel on the black leather sofa before crossing to the hearth to dry himself by the flame.
The ashen lips of the devil stretched into a sneer. With a flick of the finger, the wet towel vaporized, leaving the sofa safe. Demons had no respect for the proper treatment of fabrics. Turning his attention to Jerry, the devil used the resources of Hell to complete a charitable act: clothing Jerry’s hellbound soul-body in some damned fancy rags. The temptation to turn the demon into an actual pile of scraps loomed. Yes, the little set-up had gone off well enough, but Jerry was more foolish than a lemming if he thought his momentary softening of the heart when looking at the witch had gone unnoticed. And this little strut-a-gut thing he was doing now was not exactly pleasing either. The last thing Lucifer needed was a cocky goblin who thought for no good reason he was the shit.
“Don’t get on your high hell-hound. She’s green, that’s the only reason everything went the way it did. Don’t forget, if I hadn’t been hiding in the shadows, throwing that Morgana Box up when you needed it, you never would have gotten as far as you did. You wouldn’t be so lucky if you ever ran into her again.”
“If I ever had the chance to run into her again,” Jerry interjected as he shoved a cotton swab into his ear, causing a brown ooze to trickle down the side of his face, “your plan would be known in a heartbeat. Can’t exactly get up to Earth without a body now, can I? No, not unless the great Devil provides me a pass and a fallen angel guardian to take me. And it’s well known, you don’t do that. I can picture it right now, the Council of Seven sending out a tweet, ‘OMG, Bitch Lucifer is fronting our Keystone. #CosmicForcesFail.’”
“Which is why you gave up your earthly body, Jerry.” Not to mention, Lucifer really didn’t care for the fuss Jerry made over having to give up that body, telling Satan that his number one demon was still having defection fantasies. “I can’t have this fucked up. I’ve waited for this one for far too long. I. Want. Riona.”
Just for an extra bit of emphasis, Lucifer accentuated each word with a little burst of flame in the crackling fireplace across the room.
Jerry put up his hands in a sign of submission. “Yes, my lord. Happy to end my seventeen-hundred-year run on Earth as your go-to demon. I’m sure she’s so worth it.”
A deviant smile crossed over Lucifer’s face.
Jerry had no idea.
Chapter 3
Riona had only known Dee and Marc for four months. Most of that time had been spent in training, honing, testing, coaching and all-around prepping for her new part-time job. Pure social interaction was by consequence, not design. They kept her focused; as long as Jerry was out there, he was a danger. The crash course in vanquishing and exploding demons had left little time to play friends.
As the three Pure Souls relaxed in a booth at Paolo’s Pizza Pie Emporium, feeling their first big bust had gone pretty damned well, thank you very much, an awkward silence grew between them. There was no program to run they knew of called “chill.” A buxom waitress provided a welcome distraction as she arrived to take their orders, being sure to lean over the table just enough to let Dee, the semi-sex-god that he was, see her daily specials.
Dee grinned up at her, causing a blush more natural in lobsters. “Two Sam Adams and an unsweetened iced tea. Large cheese pizza with olive, garlic, feta, tomato, more olives, more garlic…”
“Dee!”
Riona’s admonishing look only made him shrug. “What? I’m Greek, remember? Olives and garlic are like water and air to me.”
“You told