“Don’t get sassy with me. Remember who gave you this job.”
For a second, fire flashed in her gaze. What had gotten into his once docile and slutty daughter? Or was that the problem? “When was the last time you got laid?”
“None of your business.”
Both his brows shot up. “Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?”
She looked less than impressed at his rather hilarious joke.
“Just like a man to underestimate my worth.” She lifted her chin. “For your information, I’ve been working my ass off. You apparently didn’t notice; business is booming.”
“How well are we booming?” Lucifer asked.
“We’re now up to three dozen confirmed pregnancies. More than half of them definitely present demonic traits.”
“And what of the trouble I heard about?”
“We had to take one of the mothers into custody because she set up an appointment to abort when she saw the ultrasound.”
“Damned modern technology.” Back in the day, the baby would have been born with its tail and left in the woods. So much easier to snatch. Now, the parents wanted to keep them, cut off their tails and stubby wings, file their horns.
He missed the olden days when the arrival of a new minion involved presenting it to the Devil and dancing naked by the light of the moon. It seemed like an eternity since he’d been worshiped on Halloween by witches worldwide. Those had been some of his best orgies. His wife had put the hammer down on that particular fun.
According to Gaia, the only naked person he could throw money at and slobber over was his wife. Who currently had no interest in taking care of her poor, beleaguered husband. Kept whining she’d had a baby and was tired.
She wasn’t the only one. Why he’d been yanking off on his own for weeks now. It was cruel and avoidable. If only she’d put his needs above hers. Alas, instead of sex, he had to be understanding, and letting her sleep later, taking the babies out so she could have private time. He deserved a medal for—
“Hello, still here!” Bambi snapped her fingers.
He blew out a breath. “Apparently. Don’t you have a job to do?”
“I am doing my job. You, on the other hand, have been slacking.”
“Impossible since I delegate everything to outrageously paid assistants.” He had a veritable army of people under him, who had even more working for them.
“And they do a fine job. But as you well know, a few cases require your unique intervention.”
“Must I do everything?” he lamented.
“You’re so hard done by. Yadda. Yadda. Can we hurry it up to the part where you agree to handle Ashley Dust?”
“That name, it’s familiar.” He rubbed his chin, lying just to irritate his daughter.
“Because she’s one of your special cases. A witch by your grace, not birth.”
“I didn’t make many of those.” Not since Morgana had spurned him for that Lancelot fellow. He’d had a good chuckle when he heard that Morgana had found her lover with Guinevere.
Bambi tapped a folder that a lovely bright red demoness handed her. “Do you recognize the name Ashley Dust? She’s a witch, turned in her late teens, currently hitting her mid-thirties.”
He snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes. Ashley. A clean freak if I recall, at least given the last time I saw her.” Which he now avoided. It had been a while since his last visit.
It would have seemed an oxymoron to have a sorceress so obsessed with cleanliness. And yet, that very trait made Ashley Dust one of his most wicked minions on Earth. Not the wickedest, though. That still belonged to Evangeline, who was on her way to popping out another warlock/shifter hybrid. If she and her mate kept at it, Lucifer might one day field a legion of them.
“Would you pay attention!” Bambi snapped, showing some temper.
He pursed his lips, and smoke curled from a nostril. “Is your corset wound too tight? Because you are in a hangry mood.” Probably one of his favorite new words.
“I need you to remind a few of your minions about their contracts. Those that promise their firstborn in return for their powers.”
“That Rumpelstiltskin always got the credit for using that as a condition, but where do you think he got the idea?” Lucifer declared, jamming a finger in the air. “Me!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, not with the whining about Rumple again. He got the credit for that schtick. Get over it.”
“You get over it,” he mumbled.
“If you’re done moping, you need to call in a few of those baby-making contracts.”
“Can we start with someone other than Ashley?” he asked, trying not to whine.
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of a clean and proper witch?”
Admit his terror? Never. “Just wondering if we shouldn’t start with someone more likely to get laid.”
“Are you saying a witch you made, one who serves you and follows your gospel, doesn’t have sex?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds super bad.”
“Because it is. She’s defying you. Look at her…take, take, taking what you gave. But has she given back?”
“Well, she does bounty hunt for me.”
“She’s paid to do that!” Bambi boomed, leaning close. “What has she done for Hell? For her Dark Lord?”
A good question. It was time that Ashley, his second-most-terrifying witch, did her part to support the legion.
But he couldn’t do this alone. This was a job for Grim Dating.
1
The man wearing the hooded sweater, with his hands jammed into his pockets, sauntered down the street without a care in the world. He even whistled. He wanted her to know that he followed.
Ashley crossed the road to the other side, tucking her coat tight, keeping her head down. In making herself small, she’d only made herself a bigger target.
The steps neared and kept pace as she passed from one block to the next, lit only by scattered streetlights that only barely lifted the shadows. This time of night, no one else wandered. Windows were dark. No cars prowled the streets.
The man following Ashley waited until she was level with an alley before he rushed her. Running at her, he hissed with malicious intent, “Come quietly, or I will hurt you.”
“Where do you want me to go?”
He’d chosen the alley for a reason. He knew the electronic code to punch in and unlock the metal door cemented into the brick wall. He grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her inside.
She spared a quick glance, noticing that they were in a vast space, mostly empty, only a few crates lying around.
“What is this place?”
“Quiet. Or I’ll gag you with something to make you shut up.”
“Are you alone?”
“Not anymore.” He leered, his teeth a jagged, black-and-yellow mess.
Revolting. “Haven’t you heard of a toothbrush?” She wagged her fingers and murmured a chant, more of a low hum, the noise a spider makes as it spins some web. In her case, she spun magic, spooling it out to wrap around her attacker. She twirled him in a binding cocoon of power until the only thing he could move were his eyes. Not exactly an ideal situation for him. Ashely would know. She’d once been bound in much the same fashion. On her fifteenth birthday, she was to be the virgin sacrifice offered during a blood moon, gifting her parents and the cult they ran with untold power.