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“Then you better tell whoever is Lucifer, because I’m living in his palace, wearing his clothes, and peeing in his shower.”
“Yes,” said Ipos. “You have all the trappings of Lord Lucifer. And you certainly have the title.”
“What you lack is the belief,” said Merihim.
“I seem to remember killing Mason Faim and stopping a war with Heaven.”
“And those facts are what earned you the title. But the title is a thing of the mind. Belief is a thing of the heart. And that you don’t have.”
“Not yet,” said Ipos.
“In a conversation like this when someone says ‘not yet’ it makes my balls ache. You know why? Because that’s where the knee is going. Because ‘not yet’ means I have to do something and it’s going to hurt. Am I right?”
“Your balls are very wise indeed,” said Merihim. “But you need to see our problem.”
“You need to see mine. I don’t care.”
Ipos held up one of his big hands.
“We’re here to help you become what destiny has led you to.”
“To become the Lord of the Underworld.”
“Don’t call me ‘Lord.’ I don’t like it. So how are you going to do it?”
Ipos said, “There’s something Samael was going to do before he left us. A kind of quest.”
Perfect. Not only does Samael stick me with Hell, he leaves me to clean up his last job. And I know him well enough to know that this is one he didn’t want to do.
“Fuck you both. I never wanted this gig. One of you can play Lucifer. How about you, preacher?”
“I’m a simple priest, unsuited for a life in politics.”
“What do you say, Mighty Joe Young?”
“I’m head of maintenance. Your palace would fall apart without me.”
“Well, I’m not Sir fucking Galahad out looking for adventure. I’m a schmuck who wants to go home.”
“You have to be alive to do that,” Ipos said.
“Not all of Hell is willing to accept a mortal as Lucifer. Considering that you are going to be with us for quite some time . . .”
“Forever maybe.”
“You might want to consider ways to minimize your chances of being murdered.”
“Not being killed is pretty high on my agenda. What kind of quest are we talking about?”
Merihim idly picked up a book from a nearby table.
“It’s really more of an exorcism. Not much more than clearing out a haunted house.”
“Maybe a bit more like a fortress,” Ipos said.
“With a coterie of unpleasant residents doing mischief with travelers.”
“What’s a coterie?”
