“Get on with it, Luke. What do you want?”
He clears his throat. “A date.”
I turn back toward him. “A date? With whom?”
“I thought that was rather obvious,” he says, tilting his head.
“Nope. No way,” I say, shaking my head and turning around to sift through my dresser. I’m so caught off guard, I don’t even remember what I was looking for.
“Red cropped shirt,” he says. “It’s in the back.” I have to take a deep breath so as not to react to his constant invasion of my inner thoughts.
“Think of something else for payment,” I press forward, wanting to get this conversation over with, so that he’ll leave me the hell alone.
“It’s non-negotiable. That’s what I want,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It’s never happening. Besides, I’m expecting Zeke back any moment, and I have a lot to say.”
“He’s not coming home.”
My eyes narrow. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means, you say yes. If you’d like him to return sometime this century, you’ll pay up.”
I spin on him. “Fine. Do what you must with him. You’re saving him from my wrath.”
“We need him for the war.”
It’s the first time Lucifer has admitted there will be a war. Even if it was in a roundabout way.
“Let me get this straight. You say we need him, but you’re threatening him?”
“I’m simply saying he can run errands for the next decade, if that’s what it takes.”
I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll go wherever you want me to, but it’s not a date, Luke. After it’s done, you return Zeke. Unharmed.”
“You have a lot of requirements for a debtor. Just agree and all will be right in your world again.”
“What are the full terms? No tricks, Satan.”
He chuckles. “Glad to see your rage is still intact. I was thinking you were going soft on me.”
I wave my hands in the universal sign forget on with it.
“Twenty-four hours. We start with breakfast, hang out all day, have dinner, stay out all night and sleep together. Your debt is paid at sunup.”
My laugh comes out sounding maniacal. “You’ve lost your damn mind. I’m not sleeping with you. Twenty-four hours is astronomical.”
“Your life isn’t worth a simple twenty-four hours?”
“It’s not worth giving my body to you,” I say, covering my exposed midriff with the red shirt he knew I was searching for.
“I didn’t say anything about sex, Victoria. I said sleep.”
“Sleep together were your exact words and everyone knows the devil is in the details.”
“Touché,” he says, pursing his lips. “Then let me clarify,” he stands, walking toward me and removing the shirt away from my stomach and discarding it on the bed behind him. “I only want to spend time with you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“And if I don’t? What really happens?”
