ChapterOne
Hell was workingas a coffee shop barista during the Monday morning rush.And believe me, I knew Hell.As Lucifer’s daughter and a celestial—or what humans called an angel—I was well versed in torture.But this…this was a special kind of torment.Serving overpriced lattes to clueless humans and “working for the man” at minimum wage gave me a whole new perspective on suffering.I used to have a purpose and a future.Now, I was little more than a wingless aberration who pretended to care about milk foam and flavour shots, all while secretly longing for thegood ol’ daysof battling hellspawn and causing mayhem.
“I asked for a tall, half-skinny, half-one percent, extra hot, split quad shot—two shots decaf, two shots regular—latte with whip.It’s not a difficult order,” the dark-suited man standing across the counter barked.He shoved a full cup back at me, his brow knotted in what I presumed was his version of a “glare.”It hardly inspired any fear—I’d seen far worse.
He glanced at my nametag, then raised his chin and stared down his nose at me.“I don’t know what this is,Lily, but it certainly isn’t what I ordered.”
I forced a smile.This wasn’t the first irate customer I’d dealt with today, and it wouldn’t be the last.It seemed everyone loved to take their anger out on baristas, as though we were responsible for all their shitty life choices.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I said, my words infused with more sarcasm than his lacking wit could comprehend.“Allow me to make it again for you.”Notice how I didn’t admit to any wrongdoing?That was because I’d made the coffee correctly the first time.But I’d long since learned that arguing accomplished nothing.
“Do you need me to write it down for you?”he asked with an amusing “sneer.”
“Oh, no need for that.I’ve got it.”
I poured out the coffee and started again, all while whistling a jaunty tune and envisioning sticking alongandbroadsword up his tightly puckered arsehole.
“One tall, half-skinny, half-one percent, extra hot, split quad shot—two shots decaf, two shots regular—latte with whip coming right up!”I called out, my voice syrupy sweet.But inside, I was cursing his existence.At least in Hell, I could have stabbed him when he pissed me off.But stabbing on Earth was, sadly, illegal.Stupid humans and their stupid rules.No maiming, murdering, or massacring allowed.Pfft.
“You better make it right this time,” he grumbled.“No wonder you work here.Can’t handle a real job.”
I shot the dickhead a look that would have curdled a hellspawn’s blood, but he was too busy tapping away on his phone to notice.Oh, the hellfire I could unleash on his ass.But I restrained myself, and only because I didn’t particularly want to smell burnt ass hair this early in the morning, or you know, scare the poor humans.
“Hey, buddy.”A large hand clapped down on my irate customer’s shoulder.“How about you lighten up and just let her fix the order?No one wants to listen to you being a douche.”
I recognized him instantly—his name was Jack, and I’d been serving him coffee for the last year.He always ordered it black with no frills.We’d exchanged quick pleasantries a few times, but I never imagined he’d step up for me like this, especially in front of the whole shop.
My customer turned, his sneer vanishing the instant he laid eyes on Jack.Towering over the jackass, Jack’s sheer size was enough to intimidateanyoneinto silence.It didn’t hurt that he was attractive too, with his wavy brown hair and strong brows that framed his dark eyes.A chiseled jawline with a short beard completed his look, adding to his rugged charm.He looked like the epitome of every handsome hero that starred in the countless romantic comedies popular here.
“Who the hell are you?”my customer asked, his bravado crumbling in front of everyone.
“Just someone who likes his coffee without a side of bullshit machismo,” Jack replied, his grip tightening on the man’s shoulder.He ducked his head and said with a threatening smile, “So, how about you do us all a favour and take your coffee to go?”
The dumbass muttered something disparaging under his breath, then whirled back around to face me.He snatched the lidded cup out of my hand, and with one final attempt at a withering glare—to which I gave him a cheerful wave—he stormed out of the shop.Too bad he’d left his dignity behind.
“Well, that was fun,” Jack commented as he sidled up to the counter.
Chuckling, I shook my head.“You and I must have two very different ideas of fun.”
“That so?”he asked, cocking his head.
“Call me old-fashioned, but fun for me involves a lot less verbal abuse.”
He laughed, the sound warm and infectious.“Fair enough.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice softening.“For helping me.”
He gave a half-nod while still smiling at me.
“Now, what can I get you?”I asked.
His grin widened.“How about a date?Maybe dinner this Friday?My treat, of course.”
Giggles broke out behind us from a few women in line, but I just stood there, confounded.
“A date?”I repeated.“You want to take me out on a date?”
“Well, someone has to make up for that guy’s rudeness.”Jack jerked a thumb over his shoulder.“And…I like you.I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now.”
