Authors: Multiple
He totally deserved what I gave him.
Eternal torment.
But, she didn’t think he agreed judging
by the angry countenance he presented when he strode from the bedroom clad only
in a pair of boxer shorts. Not exactly a good look for the barrel chested soul
with way too much shag carpeting coating his skin. Hair removal companies would
have made a fortune off him.
“Fucking witch! You should have stayed in
Hell where you belong.”
“I belong? I’m not the sick puppy giving
the sheep venereal infections and burning people at the stake.”
“Jealous because I wouldn’t give you a
taste?” he taunted with a grab of his groin.
The gagging wasn’t faked. “I think I might
never eat again. But enough of your grossness, say goodbye to your girlfriend.
You have an appointment with the cat o’nine in Hell.”
“I don’t think so.” He smiled, seeming
much too pleased with himself.
How predictable. Ysabel sighed as his
lady-friend tossed something at her and chanted.
Pivoting on one foot, she faced the
wanna-be sorceress. “You really should try finding a real spell book instead of
relying on Google.” Ysabel, while weaker on the mortal plane, had honed her
powers through the centuries. She spoke only one word, “Congelado,” and aimed
her magic at the human. An expression of surprise on her face, the mortal
froze.
Whipping back to face Pedro, Ysabel was
just in time for his fist to hit her face.
Head snapping sideways, she didn’t have time
to recover before he hit her again, in the stomach doubling her over, gasping.
Stupid mortal world. Everything hurt more out here, that and her magic just
wasn’t as strong as down in the Pit. Even worse, against the souls she was sent
to recover, it was almost nonexistent because part of the curse made her revert
to the same strength she held at death when faced with one of the souls she
damned. Lucifer and his bloody clauses.
Where the fuck is Remy?
She’d actually welcome his smirk and
innuendos right about now.
Wrapping his hand around her braid, Pedro
yanked her upright and she managed to whisper only the first consonant for a
spell before he knocked her out with a head-butt.
Chapter
Four
It took Remy a little longer than five
minutes to make his way from the roof to the balcony. The damned dog on the
ninth floor with its sharp teeth needed avoiding. And the couple on the
seventh, engaged in a sexual orgy involving Nutella, restraints, and a strap-on
stole his attention for a moment. But he’d not come on a pleasurable, peeping
Tom mission. He needed to reach his witchy partner and help her send the first
of their targets back to Hell.
Once they accomplished their mission
though, Remy would seriously be looking into getting home via another method.
His still sore balls couldn’t handle another ride on that torturous broom of
hers. Although, he’d quite enjoyed the snuggling – ahem, groping –
part.
Swinging onto the balcony of the condo he
searched for, he cursed as he saw his witch out for the count at the hands of
their target. He didn’t waste any time busting through the sliding glass door.
Not exactly his most noble entrance but at least it distracted the damned soul
with the knife poised over his mouthy cougar.
“I don’t think so.” If anybody got to kill
the shrew with the wicked tongue, it would be him. “Shall we dance?” he
inquired with an arched brow. Hands held out to his side, he eased the target
into a false sense of security. Remy appeared unarmed. Appearances could be so
deceiving.
“I am not going back to Hell!”
“Care to wager?” Remy asked with an
arched brow and a taunting smile.
The idiot charged him with the kitchen
knife. Remy didn’t move. Waiting until the last moment, he struck, one hand
clamping like a vise around the wrist holding the weapon, the other jabbing
forth to crush the prick’s windpipe.
Gasping like a fish on land, the damned
one sank to his knees. Remy shook his head. “Is that all you have? Really?
Couldn’t you have at least
tried
to make it sporting?”
Sighing, Remy kicked the target over to
writhe in pain on the carpet while he went to fetch the witch. He muttered a
heartfelt “Fuck,” as he noticed the blossoming bruise on her cheek. Sure, it
would heal, probably by morning if she used some magic, but still, what did it
say about him that she’d gotten hurt on his watch?
Then again, her unconscious state meant
he got to grope her, under the guise of patting her down for the tag needed to
send the woman beater, Pedro, back to Hell. Not finding it in her pants pocket,
or between her legs, he stuck his hand down her top and his fingers brushed the
silkiest skin before touching the metal icon Lucifer gave her to complete the
task.
Sliding it out, and wishing he’d thought
to search with his mouth instead, he clutched it in one hand before scooping
her into his arms. Carrying her, and enjoying the silent respite, he brought
her to Pedro who crawled away making choking sounds.
Remy knelt and placed her limp hand
around the token. Guiding her like a puppet, he slapped the icon onto the escaped
soul. With a wheezing scream, Pedro sank in on himself, his essence suddenly
sucked into a small black hole. Back to the Pit, where he belonged.
“Mission accomplished. Time to get you
home, little cougar.” Standing, he kept her cradled in his arms, and called
himself all kinds of idiot for sadistically missing her acerbic tongue. Call
him a masochist, but he liked the fact she didn’t just give in to his charm,
that she fought her obvious attraction to him.
Most denizens in Hell gave in to their
base urges with little encouragement. That she refused intrigued him. And,
unfortunately for her, made him determined to try even harder to get between
her thighs.
But only once she begged for it.
Making his way back to the pool and the
spot where they’d stashed her broom, he looked at her serene expression. She
couldn’t very well fly back unconscious.
A more gentle demon – a mentally
unbalanced one in other words – would have balked at dumping her in to
the cold water of the pool.
He, however, never claimed to be nice.
Down she went. Crossing his arms, he waited. Up she came sputtering.
“You rotten jerk! What did you do that
for?”
“Hey, if you’re going to sleep on the
job, there will be consequences,” he admonished shaking a finger.
Her jaw worked, however nothing but a
shocked stutter came out. “You, you –”
“Hot piece of demon ass?”
“No.”
“Brave soldier of Hell?”
“No!”
“Number one panty dropper in the Pit?”
“Would you stop that,” she screeched.
“This is not funny. You dumped me in a pool. I could have drowned.”
“Nah, I was keeping an eye to make sure
you bobbed up. I was pretty confident those big melons of yours would keep you
afloat.”
She slogged up the pool steps, glaring at
him, her teeth bared in a fierce scowl. “I am going to kill you.”
“For what? Waking you up? You know,” he
eyed her up and down, noting how the fabric clung to the breasts he already
knew from touch were round and perfect. “Wet is a good look for you,” he said,
his deadpan expression belied by the mirth that surely shone in his eyes.
Flipping her hair back, arching her back
and placing a hand on a cocked hip, she looked utterly delicious. And up to
something. “Looks good, but tastes even better,” she smirked.
Ooh, point for the witch who made his
mouth water at her naughty repartee. “Is that an invitation?”
“You’re not my type.”
“And what is your type? No wait. Let me
guess. Hard, plastic coated and jammed full of big D batteries.”
She scowled at him.
Touché. He’d hit a sore spot. Pity she
kept shooting him down. He knew how to make that spot feel so much better.
“Here’s your ride.” Pulling her broom out from its hiding spot, he handed it to
her.
Straddling it, she barked, “What are you
waiting for? Get on.”
“No thanks. I’d rather not end up
splattered on some city street. I’d say we’re done for the night, unless you
need me for some nefarious fun?”
“In your dreams, demon.”
“Oh goody. I have a great imagination. I
can’t wait to see what you’re going to do to me.” He laughed when she growled.
“Ooh, now that’s a sexy sound. Love it. Think of me tonight when you’re riding
your plastic friend. I know I’ll be picturing you when I’m getting off.”
“I hate you.”
“Do you always repeat yourself? Maybe
your age is catching up to you. Good thing you’ve got me helping you out or you
might forget your quest. So, same time tomorrow?”
“Same time for what?”
“Meeting up with you, of course, to hunt
some more souls. I’ll see you at your place around nine-ish.”
“Not if I can help it,” she muttered
before taking off on her broom, a trail of liquid dripping under her.
What a woman.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
found himself so intrigued. But he wouldn’t get to enjoy the witch for long if
she had her way. Remy revised his plan to find some mortal pussy before heading
back to hell. For some reason, it suddenly became more important to make sure
he stayed partnered with the witch.
You are not getting rid of me that easy.
Perhaps he’d inherited his mother’s crazy
gene after all. She would be so proud.
* * *
Lucifer eyed Remy as he lounged in the
chair across from his desk, appearing like the poster boy for insouciance, and
yet, he could see the telltale anxiety in the way his one foot kept tapping. It
only took Ysabel one day to screw with one of his finest trackers. Lucifer
fought an urge to shake his head. “Let me get this straight. After pissing
Ysabel off, to the point she’s going to come storming in here any minute
demanding I fire you, you still want to work with her? Are you insane?”
“I hope so,” Remy grinned.
A smile cracked Lucifer’s face.
“Congratulations. Your mother will be ecstatic. Consider it done. I like a male
who doesn’t back down in the face of a shrew.”
“Bah, she’s not a shrew. Just a little
feisty. Besides, I think I might enjoy taming a cougar with claws.”
“Taming? Ysabel?” Lucifer almost choked.
“Hmm, maybe you’re right. Keeping her
wild will be more fun. Think I can get her to redirect that energy of hers so
she stalks me and shreds the clothes from me? No, wait. She’s not a
shapeshifter, which means she’d need a knife. On second thought, I’ll make sure
I’m naked when she does decide to come after me. It’s probably safer.”
“Are you sure you’re okay, soldier?”
“Never better, sir. Now if you’ll excuse
me, I shall exit via the back because if I’m not mistaken, that squelching
noise signals the arrival of my hot tempered witch. Remember, I was never
here.”
“Never here,” Lucifer muttered. Remy
slipped out the secret entrance and Lucifer sighed. “What have I done?” With
little time to ponder that question, he just had time to settle himself more
comfortably in his seat before a sopping wet, and extremely pissed, Ysabel came
stomping into his office.
“I demand you fire him.”
“What? No hello?”
“Fuck you. You knew I was coming. I want
him gone.”
How interesting. It seemed he’d finally
found someone to rile his normally collected assistant’s feathers. “No can do.
You need a partner.”
“Then find me someone else.”
“Sorry, but he’s all I’ve got for the
moment.”
“But I hate him!” she yelled. Her
outburst surprised them both, and it took a few blinks before the red in her
cheeks died down. “Surely, there’s someone else? Anyone. What about that
serious demon, what’s his name again, Xaphan? Couldn’t I take him instead?”
“I’ve got plans for him.” Plans Xaphan
would absolutely hate. Lucifer couldn’t wait.
“I am so not voting for you when the
contest for boss of the year comes around,” she threatened, pivoting and
stomp-squishing her way back out.
“What? And here I had a speech prepared
thanking myself for my greatness and the fact I did everything on my own.”
Ysabel flicked him a middle finger salute
before she slammed his door shut.
He smiled.
Saucy witch. If I didn’t
know better, I’d think she was one of my own children.
Then again, given how she drove him nuts,
he was kind of glad she wasn’t. He had enough to handle with Muriel and his
constantly disappearing son, Christopher. The latter he’d given up on. The
former he secretly adored, especially since she’d given him a granddaughter who
thought he could do no good. Which reminded him, he needed to find the pet dragon
he’d bought the little tyke. It escaped its caretaker and the last thing the
entire world needed was for the atomic bomb, also known as his darling
granddaughter, to go off because he lost her favorite pet. Then again, the end
of the world would definitely liven things up around Hell.
But cut into my
golf game. Fuck.
He needed to find that dragon.