Page 52 of Client from Hell

“You might be cuddled into submission by him and my sister, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up with more parents than normal, because Lucifer absolutely cannot resist adopting people. The only reason he hasn’t adopted Diana is because his brother won’t let him. Raguel shows up every time Lucifer thinks about doing it. Then his other father shows up and has to smooth feathers because Raguel and Darlene squabble. Honestly, I think Lucifer does it because he loves my sister’s feathers, and she only displays them when she’s really hungry or she’s defending her turf. When Raguel shows up to bar Lucifer from adopting Darian and Diana, feathers fly. It’s great entertainment.”

“Jonas, you’re already Lucifer’s brother.”

“I’m fairly certain that doesn’t matter to Lucifer. He doesn’t feel secure unless he’s the father of his precious little adoptees. Darlene has protected me so far, mainly because she doesn’t want to lose her brother. I’m probably safe. You’re probably not safe, though. Because there’s nothing in the rules saying I can’t become involved with one of Lucifer’s adoptees. We might need to run to escape the insanity.”

“Jonas, did you really think you were getting out of this relationship single? Well-fed, yes. A free, single man? Probably not. You’re a monogamous incubus with a meal problem. I’m a single not-quite human female who needs a good bed buddy without having to worry about abusive, idiot men who can’t handle someone who wants to have a career. You will not interfere with my career, and if anything, I expect you’ll be a dick if I try to fuck my career up.”

“You’re not a good sugar momma if you aren’t caring for your stay-at-home incubus, so yes.”

I stared at Jonas with wide eyes. “Wait. I’m a sugar momma?”

“I’m a beautiful incubus who will be expected to show up and warm your bed, and you plan to only have me around when you need to be cuddled in bed. Calling you a sugar momma is so much better than calling me a shameless prostitute.”

Laughter bubbled out of me. “I’m not paying you, so you can’t be a prostitute, Jonas. The only lavish gift you’re getting is the privilege of driving Lucille.”

“That classifies as you being my sugar momma for certain.” Jonas patted the steering wheel. “Lucille is wonderful, and she treats us so well.”

“Is there any reason I should be your sugar momma?”

“Lucifer will loathe the entire concept because he is a strong supporter of unholy matrimony.”

When viewed in that light, allowing Jonas to call me his sugar momma made a great deal of sense. “Alright then, my little sugar baby. Hurry up with the fix-me magic so we can get this show on the road.”

“I don’t know what species He made you, but I’m a little concerned for my safety.”

“I can’t take you to bed if I kill you,” I reminded him.

“While true, this is the first time in my life as an incubus I’ve actually been concerned if I’ll perform satisfactorily, Sandra. This is a problem.”

“In good news for you, I have no basis for comparison, so if you do your best all of the time, I really won’t know any better.” I shrugged. “From my understanding, most men last ten minutes and leave disappointment in their wake, so as long as you beat that, I’m considering myself lucky.”

“That bar is so ridiculously low it makes me want to cry, Sandra.”

“I can’t help that’s what the internet taught me!”

“I am going to ruin you for mortal men,” he warned. “Incubi usually do. Most of my brethren take pride in doing that. But then the women we ruin hunt for lycanthropes, as they’re fairly close to incubi in terms of endurance.”

“There’s a pecking order based on performance in hell, isn’t there?”

“Oh, yes. Lucifer wins, much to everyone’s annoyance. After Lucifer, the equines generally win, although the ranking among randy unicorns often varies. Right now, the cindercorns are winning, but Bailey has an unfair advantage; her mate has a lot of active incubi genes and he’s converted, so he has a double dose of general drive. Standards will give the cindercorns a run for their money on most days, although they’re third right now thanks to the nightmare trying her best to convert her mate. That’s Diana. We’re not sure how the lone celestial will pan out. She’s an introvert, and Lucifer is going to have to take steps to get her on the move. Apparently, she’s still mourning her parents, and she’s a depressed little mare, so Lucifer is trying to find the ideal mate for her. I’ll give him credit, though. When he decides to matchmake, he means serious business—and he loves his unicorns.”

“Why are these celestials almost extinct?”

“He made the same mistake he did with the cindercorns with them. They’re slow to reproduce, they’re dedicated to the point they’re slow to mate if they mate at all, and they are long-lived, so some pairings just never had any foals. Lucifer will correct the problem with the little filly he’ll be luring out of hiding, so there are no worries there. But she has to recover from the death of her parents first. She loved them both very much.”

“How did they die?” I asked, bracing for the sort of tragedy my school taught us to expect in the pursuit of justice.

“Old age. They held on until their little filly was old enough to survive on her own. Unicorns don’t appear all that old, so in their filly’s eyes, they died in their sleep at too young of an age. They were over a thousand, but she isn’t aware of that. Hell, she’s unaware she’s a celestial, for that matter—just like Lucifer’s precious cindercorn had no idea she was a real cindercorn. The fallout is going to be spectacular, because she absolutely adores Bailey and doesn’t understand why. It’s because they’re birds of a feather. It’ll be fun. Now that Lucifer has begun introducing the various equines, I’m sure everyone will get involved when we’re bringing a new one into the fold.”

Somehow, I’d landed into quite the mess. “How do you think spicy ponies with bite will rank?”

“I would not complain if you unseated the cindercorns. I’m an incubus, Sandra. If you want to go for gold, I’m here for the ride.”

No kidding. Snorting so I wouldn’t snicker and hurt the incubus’s feelings, I resumed reading about the organization we would one day crush beneath our vengeful heels.

Rather than show off the Lamborghini and go with the Devil’s plan to infiltrate through using my cancer to draw interest, we parked in an underground lot a mile away. Aware of Diana’s commentary regarding my odd brain activity and potential for strengthened practitioner magic, I took care with the illusions meant to keep watchful eyes from noticing us.

Jonas observed with interest. “I’m starting to dislike how long it’s taking to correct your reproductive system, Sandra. Watching you work is sexy.”