Page 45 of Whispers From The Dark

I’m forced to sit beside this talking animal, and I think of the nap we took just this morning, curled up together on this futon.

What the actual fuck?

“Calm yourself, mortal. I will speak, and then I will release you to let you ask your questions.”

Being told to relax by a talking cat pretty much has the opposite effect. I’m feeling claustrophobic in my own body, but I’m doing the best I can to not fall into a panic. I’d allowed this demon-possessed cat into my house, and I just had to hope it wouldn’t kill me.

“Most cats are demon-possessed, and I don’t know how you mortals haven’t figured that out, especially the ones who know of our existence. What do you think familiars are?” he asks, and it’s obviously rhetorical because I can’t speak and he starts chuckling to himself. It’s entirely disconcerting.

“That’s neither here nor there, Petra. I’m here because I must insist you fulfill your bargain with my brother, Asmodeus.” He puts his paw up as if to stop me from interjecting. As if I even could. “He is the Prince of Lust. I already have a Prince of Despair. You humans spread enough despair that I barely need one, let alone two. Since my Prince of Lust is too miserable to encourage copulation, I must intervene. With the rise of purity culture in the younger generations, I fear we will find ourselves slipping into the past. Next we know, there will be towns that disallow dancing because it leads to debauchery. Besides, reneging on a contract makes all of demonkind look pathetic. I can’t have it.” That cat flops over onto its side, showing me its belly. “Do you understand?”

He doesn’t release me enough to move, but I am finally able to speak.

“Who are you?” I demand, even though I guess it isn’t exactly important.

He sits up, turning himself into a cat loaf. This whole conversation is fucking ridiculous.

“I fear that’s obvious, Petra. Do not make me insult someone my brother seems to hold very dear.”

I simply stare at him. There’s no fucking way…

“Lucifer, you dolt. Now answer my question.”

He confirms my fear, and I don’t hesitate to give him what he wants. “He killed my mother. That’s…that’s enough for my contract to be null and void. He agreed.”

“Do not pretend you grieve her. And besides, I think he did it for a reason. I won’t look into it too much further because then I’m obligated to be ‘fair’ and ‘make things right.’” His tone is disdainful as he tilts his head. His whiskers rub against my arm, tickling me, and I repress the urge to scratch his belly.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, turning in a circle before settling down on a comfier spot on the futon.

“Another Prince claimed you. If you’d have pushed her yourself, you would have belonged to him. I believe my brother did it to protect you.”

I don’t move as those moments play in my mind, over and over, as they have for days.

I’d been about to do it, hadn’t I?

Had I only been angry at Asmodeus because he’d done what I didn’t get a chance to? What I wanted to do and would have certainly felt guilty about for years. Had he saved me from more than that guilt? From being taken by a different demon?

“I-I think⁠—”

“Stop. I do not care what you think. I am choosing not to look into this. I simply want to fix one problem and sweep another under the rug. Do this for me, Petra.”

Jack turns the shower off, and Lucifer the cat jumps down from the futon. He stretches, lowering his head to the floor and lengthening his torso.

The front door opens on its own, and I’m left staring at the furry butthole of the four-legged King of Hell, rubbing his face against the doorframe on his way out.

Sanguivita is fucking packed. I knew it would be busy, but I’m not prepared for just how many people I have to walk past to get to the bar. Danny, one of the bartenders I met during my training shifts, has a nervous energy to him as I walk up. I don’t even know how to have this conversation. As far as some of the employees know, Asmodeus is a faceless investor, and Melody is the manager.

Danny comes over to take my order, looking frazzled as he offers a quick smile. He gives me a double take as he recognizes me.

“Petra, what’s up? Come to help behind the bar? We’re fucking slammed, and everyone’s been a dick since I got here. I’ve had to break up three fights.”

“Uh, actually,” I start, but then Sam walks up, carrying a stack of clean shot glasses, and I can’t speak.

Because it’s not Sam at all. It’s Asmodeus. And he’s staring right at me. The longer we make eye contact, the more of his true form I can see. Instead of Sam’s t-shirt, I see Asmodeus’s marbled skin and his muscular body. I see his obliques, drawing a v shape toward his pelvis. Danny walks past, muttering something, and he walks directly through Az’s wing. His wingspan is huge in this tiny space. His hair spills down his body, long and silky. And then his horns, his delicate, deadly horns, draw my gaze.

But it’s his facial expression that absolutely wrecks me.