Eistibus is at one end of the bar, giving me a wide berth. Ba-Maguje is here again tonight, lying slumped at the other, working his influence. His wet lips move as if he’s talking in his sleep, cajoling his humans to have another drink. It won’t hurt anyone. Just one more…
Disgusted, I turn my gaze to the demons in the rest of the tavern. A motley collection of vile devils with misshapen bodies—talons, matted hair, scales—wallowing in their revolting fluids while having a drink or two. Taking a break from stoking their humans’ misery, apathy, or perversions.
I down the rest of my wine and give Eistibus a parting nod before storming out.
Just a little longer, I think as I take to the air in my raven form. A few more days and it will all be over.
And Lucy?
Hatred for my fellow demons is a joke. I’m no better than they. Worse, even. The world will not mourn me, and neither will Lucy. How could she? The man she knew is dead. He died in the bowels of the ziggurat nearly four thousand years ago, and everything she loved about him died too. Corrupted and ruined beyond redemption.
There is no love left in me.
Only a stubborn, lingering hope that she be cared for after I’m gone. That she finally finds the love and happiness that was stolen from her. From us.
Because she still has a chance, even if it’s too late for me.
Part II
The devil doesn’t come to you with a red face and horns. He comes to you disguised as everything you’ve ever wanted. —Oscar Auliq-Ice
Eleven
When Casziel returned from wherever he went at night, he brought back a foul mood that permeated the entire apartment li
ke a fog and lasted for the rest of Sunday. He refused to tell me what was wrong and snapped at me when I tried to make conversation. All the warm words and longing looks from the pub must’ve been my imagination. It was hard to believe he’d stroked my hair or told me my happiness was worth everything. Worth risking his soul…
When I felt recovered enough from my hangover, I went grocery shopping for the week, buying a mountain of food for the remaining nine days of Cas’s “visit.” I tried not to think about the days ticking down, but the thought wouldn’t leave me alone. I wondered how you could miss someone—someone you’d just met—before they were even gone.
My earlier conversation with Cole didn’t help. But even if Cole were right—and he wasn’t—what could I do? Casziel was leaving. Permanently.
I returned from the store to find my demon sprawled on the couch, a slant of late afternoon light falling over him. He was watching TV while stuffing his face with frozen peas straight from the bag. An empty jar of mayonnaise and a spoon littered the coffee table.
Breakfast of champions.
“So…I guess we need to talk about tomorrow when I go to work.” I set the two grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Is ‘fake relationship’ really what we’re going with, or did I conjure that in my drunken stupor?”
“It is the best plan,” Cas said, not looking up from his show. Dr. Phil, by the sound of it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because—”
“That’s the plan, Lucy Dennings. There is no other.”
I frowned and put a new head of lettuce into the fridge. “It’s just that…I’m worried about you. It’s super nice that you want to help me out with Guy, but this is your eternal soul we’re talking about.”
“Super nice,” Cas said icily. “Yes, that’s exactly what I am.”
I grit my teeth and wished my father were there to ask for advice. Then I remembered he was, in a matter of speaking.
“What does Dad think of our plan?”
For long moments, there was only the crunch of Cas’s frozen peas, then his toneless reply, “He’s in accord.”
I pinned the demon with a hard look. “You’re lying.”