Page 36 of A Chip on Her Shoulder

“I have no interest in forming a triad with her, no offense intended to you, Darlene.”

“Michael, you ruin that perfect chest with no nipples. We would fight for my entire lifespan over your lack of nipples. It would not work out. Meeting you taught me a very important lesson: my men need nipples. My men also need other important parts.”

“Indeed. You are free to be told no by her for however long you wish, my brother. We will enjoy witnessing your rejection.”

“She’s already trying to sell me off to a succubus. She’s also made some suggestions about how I might keep one around, and why I have terrible luck keeping them around. My lack of guest bedrooms is only the start of my problems, if she is to be believed.”

“She is to be believed. You have plenty of empty rooms. Convert some into guest bedrooms. I recommend you give her the garden as her personal domain. A comfortable bed, a private bathroom for her use, and some moderate renovations would appeal to her. She is, after all, a feline. You will want to make a room suitable for a snow leopard as well. She becomes quite saddened when she cannot go play in the snow.”

“Snow,” the Devil blurted. “You want me to put snow in my house?”

“It would make her very pleased with you and might earn you some spot counting.”

I considered the archangel’s words. “He’s not wrong. I love winter, because winter is when the snow comes to visit me. I’m too poor to go up to the mountains to visit the snow. Last year didn’t have more than a few inches of snow. It was terrible.”

“But snow?”

I couldn’t help myself. I grinned and replied, “I guess that means there’s a snowball’s chance in hell of you getting to count any more spots.”

The Devil growled. “I should punish you for that.”

I slapped his wrist with the riding crop, and he yelped. “You will not.”

“Wicked feline!”

“Yes.” I returned to my work, printing out the file I’d constructed on Lorenzo Gallo and his assortment of bullying mafia members. Unlike the printers I was familiar with, his printed on both sides and wasted no time spitting out the sheets. “Okay. I’m ready for you to take me home, where you can enjoy counting two spots of my choice before you have to do your share of the work. And anyway, don’t feel too badly, Lucifer. I already told you business came before pleasure, and until my work here is done, you really do have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting to count any more spots. You’ll get over it, I’m sure.”

“I absolutely will not get over your cruel mistreatment.”

Laughing, I released the Devil from his chains. “You’ll survive. And I’ll survive, too, because if you kill me, you can’t count my spots, and I’d just be yet another fucking asshole in residence here.”

“She has you figured out, Lucifer,” Gabriel announced.

“You came here to witness my defeat at the hands of a mortal woman, didn’t you?” the Devil accused.

“That plus to pass a message,” Michael said.

“A message? What message? When He wants something, he usually bothers me personally, because He knows it annoys me.”

“Do not panic,” Michael replied, and a moment later, both archangels disappeared.

The Devil frowned. “Should I be worried?”

“That depends. What would make you panic?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know. How odd.” The Devil hopped off his desk and held out his hand. “Shall I take you back to your home? I must count my two owed spots, handle my promised share of the work, and pay my heavenly father a visit, as I now have some questions for him.”

The Devil would be busy, and I smiled, taking hold of his hand. “Just don’t lose my brother on the way. Despite appearances, I do love him.”

“Don’t worry. I intend on taking good care of your brother. It would not do to lose hope of counting your spots due to his demise.”

I suspected Jonas would make me pay for the Devil’s attention later, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. “Keep dreaming, Lucifer.”

Chapter Eight

Fine lines separated revenge, vengeance, and justice.

Within five minutes of the Devil taking me home and placing my brother in his new cage, I staggered to my bed, showed him the two spots he could fiddle with to his heart’s content, and passed out. Waking to a persistent knock at my door annoyed a growl out of me, and still dressed in my rumpled clothes, I stomped across my home, checking the peephole to discover two of the mafia goons standing at my doorstep.