Luck of the Devil Page 7

  “I should’ve known. It’s not like we don’t see each other all the time during the football and hockey seasons. I mean, heck, we even catch a couple of Bucs games every year. We’ve got a great father-daughter relationship, don’t we?”

  “Sure, Dad. Beer and box seats for ritualized combat in a competitive form. What more could a girl ask for?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled me closer and kissed my cheek with a loud smack “We’ve got a great relationship. I should have known your mother was up to something.”

  “But?”

  “Well, you know how it is when she’s out ‘communing with the nature spirits’ and breathing in all that ritual smoke. I mean, she’s a bit dippy at the best of times but once she gets going, there’s no slowing her down. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d probably strangle her.”

  “Tell me about it.” I slipped out of his grasp once we were inside my apartment. It might be better to have some space between us when the yelling started. Dad had a temper, and he’d been known to accidentally whack things with his tail when he was in a mood.

  “Tolliver,” he said.

  “Hey, Dad.” Tolliver’s voice cracked, and his smile was forced. He still sat on the couch next to Lisa, wringing his hands. I hadn’t seen him this nervous since he turned my high school cheerleading coach into imp food.

  “It’s good to see you, son.”

  There was no way we were getting out of here without a minor demonic incident. I was going to have to move again. And it was going to be next to impossible to find another coffee shop like Churresco’s.

  “Lisa?” My father narrowed his eyes at her and sniffed. He whipped around and directed a stare at me. Thank Evil his tail hadn’t come out yet. “Why do you smell like fire and brimstone all of a sudden?”

  “Uhh… ”

  He cast his attention to Lisa, then back to me. “Faith Anne Bettincourt, what have I told you about turning your friends into demonic minions? Not allowed, young lady.”

  “Hey. Don’t look at me.” I held my hands in front of me in the universal sign of Keep Me Out of This Shit. “Go talk to Mr. Let’s-Trade-Your-Soul-for-a-Drink. I was so very much not in the picture for his little episode of Turn Faith’s Best Friend Into a Succubus. I also haven’t been involved in any of the other succubus-related incidents since.”

  “Except last night,” Tolliver said.

  Traitor.

  “Last night was an accident,” Lisa said quietly, narrowing her eyes at him. Her desire to protect me was clouding her own self-preservation instincts, and I wanted to strangle her stupidly loyal stance. She needed to worry about her own skin instead.

  “Was it, now?” Dad turned to Lisa. “So why don’t you tell me what happened, Lisa? And when that’s over, you can explain to me how my son, the Archdemon of Gluttony, came to turn you into a succubus, which is very clearly the province of his mother, the Archdemoness of Lust.”

  “Well.” Lisa kept her eyes on the floor and began scuffing her feet together, doing everything in her power to avoid meeting my father’s eyes. She hadn’t been a succubus very long, and her control stank, but she was learning the necessary demonic survival tricks quicker than I’d expected.

  “Out with it, young lady.”

  “Harold was always giving Faith such a hassle, and there he was, alone in his office while she was finishing up her paperwork. I thought if I could just teach him a little lesson, he’d leave her alone. I was only trying to help, but I can’t manage to ever really control it and—”

  “I knew there was someone at work!” my mother said, shaking her finger at me. “Why haven’t I heard anything about this Harold guy? I mean, really, Faith, is it so hard to keep your mother in the loop? You’re thirty years old. There’s no reason to be ashamed of having a boyfriend.”

  “Harold was the head of pediatric surgery, Mother. That meant he was my boss.” I settled onto one of the kitchen stools and buried my head in my hands. There was no way this was going to turn out well.

  “You were having an affair with your boss?”

  “No, Mother, I was not having an affair with Harold the Walking Harassment Lawsuit.” Honestly, I’d rather marry an imp and put up with its stench than even think about Harold naked.

  “Roisin.” My father narrowed his eyes at my mother and she stared back at him, oblivious. “Do you think, possibly, that we could focus on the topic at hand? Just for a bit?”

  “So-rry. It’s just Faith never lets me into her life. I try and try to help her, and she just completely shuts me out.”

  “Roisin!”

  “What?”

  That eerily calm look he always wore just before he snapped took shape over his face, and I wondered if Miami was nice. I’d never lived in Miami. And after today, I was pretty sure I’d be looking for somewhere else to live very, very soon. Probably tomorrow morning.

  “What do you say we focus for a minute?”

  She huffed and crossed her legs, swinging one like a pendulum.

  Satisfied, he returned his attention to Lisa. “Now, Lisa, explain to me exactly what happened at the hospital yesterday.”

  “Well, I showed up at ped surgery to phase home with Faith since we didn’t drive. She overslept and I was running late and you know how rush hour is—you created it, after all. So instead of fighting the traffic, we just phased.”

  Way to kiss ass, Lisa. I groaned.

  My father nodded. “A very resourceful use of your powers to solve problems.”

  Lisa smiled, relaxing at his praise. “So, anyway, I get upstairs, and Harold tells me she’s still charting all of his new orders and I just know he’s left them to the last minute to give her grief and make her work late on the day before her vacation. Because Harold is—was—a bastard like that. Suddenly, I was really, really hungry and Harold looked like a pretty good snack. But he was so busy, he didn’t pay attention to me, so I… ”

  “You what, dear?”

  She stared at her toes, her cheeks turning a frightening shade of scarlet. “I knew he had a thing for cheerleaders after last year’s Super Bowl party, and I did that thing where you can sort of change your clothes on the fly.”

  “Glamouring new clothing into place,” Dad said, nodding. “Yes, Faith and Hope used that particular trick to sneak inappropriate outfits out of the house when they were in high school.”

  “So that’s what I did,” Lisa said. “Harold likes cheerleaders, so, voila—one slutty cheerleader at his service.”

  “Very nice. If you were actually supposed to be a succubus, I’d be awestruck by your abilities to spontaneously make up plans. But why Harold? Just because you were hungry? Or was there some other reason?”

  “I know we’re supposed to be careful, and like Faith constantly reminds me, ‘don’t shit where you eat,’ but I knew he’d been giving her trouble and I thought this might be a good way to get him off her back.”

  “I see.” My father hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “And how were you going to get him off her back?”

  “Well, Tolliver told me it was possible to give our food messages subliminally while we feed because we have one of those symbological relationships. You know what I mean?”

  “Symbiotic?”

  “Yeah, that’s it!”

  I sighed and beat my forehead softly against the granite counter. My physical body couldn’t die, but if I was lucky, maybe I could beat myself into a stupor until this was all over.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, she’s stupid,” Hope said.

  “Leave your cousin out of this,” my father warned her. “And we’ll be getting to you shortly, young lady, so I’d lay off the attitude.”

  “Anyway, Tolliver told me there was one of those relationship thingies between a demon and their food so I sent him a bunch of subliminal messages about how I’d keep feeding off of him if he’d just leave Faith alone.”

  “And?”

  “Well, most guys have one of those panic reflexes. I watch for that panic
ky moment and I know when to stop feeding. But Harold just kept smiling the whole time.”

  “And you drained him dry?” he asked. My guess was he wasn’t any more surprised than the rest of us had been.

  “Yeah.”

  “And let me guess—this isn’t the first time you’ve drained someone dry? And instead of teaching you how not to do it, my son and heir apparent has threatened to do something horrible to you, so Faith stepped up to cover for you? Have I got it right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Faith Anne, what have I told you about lying?”

  “It’ll get you further in life than anything else as long as you can keep the story going?”

  Tolliver snickered.

  “Tolliver.” My father shifted focus to my brother. “Would you like to explain to Lisa why she’s having so many problems as a succubus?”

  “That’s my fault,” Lisa protested. “I’ll get better with a bit of practice. I haven’t blown anyone up in weeks.”

  “That’s very good, dear.” He drummed his fingertips against his legs, his glare fixed on my brother. “Tolliver?”

  “I’m sort of not allowed to make succubi,” Tolliver said, keeping his head down and his eyes on the carpet. “I don’t know how to train them.”

  “And? What else do you think you need to get off your chest?”

  “I’m not allowed to take the soul of someone who’s intoxicated. They must be capable of freely giving it to me.”

  “We will be discussing this later, son. In private.”

  “Sucks to be you, Tolly,” Hope said.

  “I wouldn’t get comfortable, Hopewell.” My father turned to her and my mother, his expression stern. “Isn’t there something you need to tell me?”

  “I saw your new car from the window and I think it’s totally hot?” She batted her eyelashes and smiled her Daddy Loves Me smile.

  “No.” My father paced the length of my living room, the sliver of black from his tail flicking anxiously against his right ankle. That couldn’t be good. Pacing was one of the Devil’s more ominous coping mechanisms. “Try again.”

  “I’ve decided I’m really not cut out for all that nature and the whole rustic lifestyle so, instead, Boris and I thought we’d give urban living here in beautiful Pittsburgh a try.” Hope batted her eyelashes at him again but her smile slipped slightly.

  “Try again. Why are you here and not doing your duty in Idaho?”

  “Oh, for the love of Pete,” I said. “Boris has fallen up and they’ve been ousted. She’s been living with Mom in Provo for the past month, and now she’s here, living in the apartment you had me keep for you.”

  I sucked air into my lungs and hoped I could get through the rest of the explanation without my dad blowing up the apartment. “Tolliver’s acting creepier than normal. Lisa keeps blowing people up when she tries to use her unholy powers of seduction. Last night’s kill, Harold, was probably your paperwork issue this morning, but he’s gone now, so thanks for that. Oh, and the neighbor next door is way too perceptive for anyone’s good, so do you think we could maybe keep it down? I’ve gotten rather fond of living here and the combined Bettincourt-Morningstar craziness is threatening to ruin that right about now.”

  Why did they have to bring their messes here? All I wanted for this week was to spend it on the couch watching reality television. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  “Boris has fallen up?” His eyes flashed red and his horns curled upward. “And you didn’t tell me immediately?”

  “I thought it would be better to tell you in person?” Hope squeaked.

  “And when did you intend to do that?”

  “Um, now?”

  “Where is my son-in-law?” He glowered and the lights flickered ominously. “Where have you hidden him?”

  “Upstairs. 6A. Sitting on the couch eating Oreos and watching Cartoon Network,” Hope said quickly. “His stuff is all packed for you to just send him right to Purgatory. No problem at all. Just snap your fingers and poof! No more Boris.”

  “I can’t do that, Hopewell.”

  “Yes, you can. Just put your thumb and your middle finger together and move them quickly. Make the little sound, and off he goes.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. You allowed him to fall up. Boris is no longer my subject. That means I no longer have any control over him.”

  “You’re the Devil. You control all sorts of things. Snap your fingers, send him back to Hell, and get me back my cult. I’ll harvest the souls and we’ll be fine. No one has to know. Just a minor blip on the radar.”

  “You lost control of your assignment. Now the souls belong to your uncle.”

  “But Boris… ”

  “Is an immortal being with immense power.” He’d grown larger, looming over the rest of us with his head brushing the ceiling. The lights flickered and died. “And you’ve allowed him to slip out of his bonds. He’s under no one’s control right now. Until I’ve managed to contact your uncle and arrange a transfer, he is masterless. Beholden to no one. Accountable to no one. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “I really screwed up,” Hope said, cringing back into the sofa against Mom. “Instead of giving Mom a month to soften you up, I should have told you immediately?”

  “Yes, you should have.” He began to shrink back to his normal size, and light returned to the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go deal with Borisephan. If I were you, I’d find somewhere else to go for a while.”

  “Dad?” I pointed at the front door. “Mortal neighbors? Remember?”

  “I’ll be discreet, but your sister still needs to stay out of her apartment for the next several hours while her husband and I”—he narrowed his eyes, his horns curling ominously—“talk.”

  “Right,” I agreed. “We’ll just take Mom and get the two of you settled into a hotel. No worries. You can just phase in and meet her later.”

  “Two rooms.”

  “What do you mean two rooms?” my mother said.

  “Two rooms,” he repeated, and disappeared with a quiet pop.

  “He doesn’t mean that,” Mom said with shaky confidence.

  “I’d do what he says,” Tolliver said. “If Dad said two rooms, get two rooms.”

  “But we’ve been working things out.”

  “Obviously, keeping something this big from him has changed that situation,” Tolliver said, and disappeared.

  Lightning streaked across the sky, and the building shook from the force of thunder.

  “I’ll just get your bags loaded in my car,” I said to my mom, and shooed her and my sister toward the front door.

  “This is nothing,” she said. Ping-Pong-sized hail beat down outside my window. “He’s just a bit cranky right now from all the traveling he had to do.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Well, that could have gone better,” Hope said later that night. She sat down with a large bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and handed me a bowl of spumoni.

  “You can say that again.” I took a big bite of ice cream. “Where’s Boris?”

  “Upstairs.” She motioned at my ceiling with her spoon. “Apparently, he can’t be pulled back into Hell because he’s fallen up and Dad doesn’t trust him unsupervised in Purgatory. There are too many souls still waiting to be processed and he’s concerned he could do something rash.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m supposed to keep an eye on him until Dad can arrange for a transfer. But he said it shouldn’t be too much trouble. He’s cut off Boris’s access to any real power,” she said.

  “Real power?” I said.

  “He’s not capable of using his powers for evil. No powers of persuasion, no stealing souls, no unfairly manipulating the outcomes of events.”

  “But he’ll still keep his immortal visage,” Tolliver added. “Dad can’t strip things from him that are inherent in all immortals.”

  “So he’s still got wings and a tail, but
he can’t do anything?”

  “He can phase,” Hope said. “But that’s about it. Otherwise he’s just a big, formerly demonic battery.”

  Wow. I tried not to act surprised at her comment. If Dad had called in the Alpha, things had gotten serious. I couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for Hope. Until this was sorted out, she was essentially going to bed each night with a member of the opposite team.

  “What happens now?” I bit into my ice cream.

  “We sit and wait while they work out an arrangement for him.” Hope stirred hers into a pile of slush instead of eating it.

  “How long does that take?”

  “Who knows? It’s only happened twice before that I can remember.” Tolliver flopped onto the love seat with a bowl of strawberry ice cream. He shoveled a heaping spoonful into his mouth.

  “And what happened?” I asked, taking another bite.

  “Dad arranged a transfer,” Tolliver said, spraying ice cream everywhere. “It took about a week from start to finish. It was a no-muss, no-fuss affair.”

  “And do you think that’s what he’ll do with Boris?” Hope asked, her eyes sad. A transfer to the other side would keep them from any sort of reconciliation. Most likely, she would never get the chance to see him again.

  “Who knows? The others didn’t destroy a major operation when they fell up, and they weren’t Satan’s son-in-law,” he said.

  “The real question is, what are you going to do?” I asked pointedly.

  Hope scraped her spoon across the bottom of her bowl. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, are you going to separate?” I asked. “Are you already separated?”

  “Yes… no… I don’t know what we are.”

  “Okay, so what do you want to be?” I asked, scooting closer.

  “Come on, dish.” Tolliver pushed himself to the edge of his seat.

  Hope’s shoulders stiffened and she huffed loudly. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying to find a way to train your new succubus? Where is she, by the way?”

  “Family dinner with her parents,” Tolliver and I said in unison.