“Playing a harp whilst gliding past pearly gates on a fluffy white cloud?” Casziel mused. He ran a finger along a row of romance novels on my shelf. “Heaven’s gates or the fires of hell. Divine or infernal. Angel or demon. Everything is black and white for you humans when there are a thousand shades of gray.” He pulled a book off the shelf, an eyebrow arched. “More than fifty.”
“Okay, then what’s it like?”
“The Other Side?” He shrugged and dropped the book on the floor and moved on with his inspection of my place. “You can’t comprehend it and I’d rather not drive you to insanity trying to explain.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered and returned the book to its home on the shelf as Casziel poked his head into my tiny bathroom.
“I’ve known monks with more worldly possessions than you, Lucy Dennings.”
I lifted one shoulder. “It’s all I need.”
He gestured at my shelves. “You need all those books? Mostly romantic fiction, I notice.”
“And poetry. I love poetry and romance.” I smiled self-consciously. “I’m a sucker for beautiful words.”
Casziel sniffed. “Those beautiful words are your substitute for the real thing.”
“I…that isn’t true.”
“Is it not true?” He stretched his long body out on my too-small couch. “One stool at the counter. One chair at the desk. I’m shocked that your bed is large enough for two.”
I tugged at the collar of my sweater, my face growing hot. “This place doesn’t have room for more furniture. And not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t have company over all that often.”
Or ever, Silly Lucy.
Casziel shrugged and reached for the TV remote on the coffee table and started flipping through channels. “Can we get pizza?”
I snatched the remote out of his hands and shut off the TV.
“Oh sure, let’s get pizza. As soon as you tell me what I’m supposed to do. Help you not be a demon?”
He fixed his eyes on me. “My redemption lies with you, Lucy Dennings. You’re the expert on living for others, always bending over backwards, often at your own expense.”
“I don’t do that,” I said in a small voice.
“You’d give the shirt off your back, as the saying goes, even if you only had one shirt.”
“That’s…not true.”
“Agree to disagree.”
I hunched deeper into my sweater, an ugly, nervous feeling coiling in my guts like a snake. The enormity of what I was being asked to do and believe was too much. Demons or not, the voices in my head were right—I was gullible and silly and always willing to see the best in people, even when they were obviously toying with me.
“This conversation is making me ill,” I said. “I was crazy to let you in. For all I know this is a lie, and you’re here to…hurt me.”
Casziel’s lazy smirk vanished. “I told you, I would never hurt you.”
“You told me but what is the word of a demon? And how am I supposed to help you? You’ve committed God knows how many atrocities—”
“God knows,” Casziel said, his voice low. “To the last drop of blood spilled, God knows.”
I shivered. “This was a mistake. I think you should leave.”
The demon sat up, head bowed, his hands hanging off his knees. “Forgive me, Lucy born of light. It’s been nearly four thousand years since I last put myself at the mercy of a human’s generosity.” He looked up at me, his expression strangely soft. “I vowed to never…”
“What?”
He looked away. “Nothing.”