“That doesn’t explain how Jonas turned out.”
“He’s male.”
I frowned. “What? I mean, yes. He is my brother rather than my sister.”
“Men are often raised differently from women in religious environments. Your brother grew up feeling a certain amount of entitlement due to his position as a preacher’s son. You grew up with the burden of expectations. That is how two humans could produce two children on entirely different behavioral spectrums. It was all in their care with your upbringing. Jonas did not have the same upbringing as you despite the fact that you share parents. He spent all of his life being told he should expect certain things, and that became the seeds of greed, sin, and treachery. You spent all of your life being cultivated to be a responsible wife and mother with a splash of the crueler realities of mortal life. Jonas will learn quickly how to become self-reliant, for I am not as kind as your parents were in their mortal life. You are not meant to be his mother, and I will put my foot down if I must. Or put him in one of your tanks in time out until he learns to be self-sufficient. And I have plans on how I’ll handle you should you fall prey to those old habits.”
“What plans?”
“Test me and find out. We’ll both enjoy it, that much I can promise.”
Ugh. All the Devil had to do to make me enjoy myself was take his damned shirt off. “I can’t tell if I’m supposed to be falling prey to these old habits or not.”
The Devil thought about it, and he claimed one of the clams for himself. “You know, I’m not sure, either. I seem to have created a dilemma.”
“You have created a dilemma all right, you ate one of the clams!” I grabbed another one, eyeing the last one left on the tray. I set my Champagne down and claimed the last one, too. “Mine.”
“But they’re good,” the Devil complained, and he focused on the clam in my left hand. “I’ll be really good to you if you share that with me.”
I translated his offer to involve a bedroom and the removal of his shirt, but as I was not a fool, I asked, “But will you show off your perfect chest for me should I give this to you?”
“Maybe.”
I raised a brow and lifted the clam to escort it on its adventure to my stomach where it belonged.
“Yes.”
I grinned, turned my hand, and held out the shell in his direction. “Talk dirty to me.”
“Please.”
There was something inherently sexual about feeding a clam to him, and I regretted I had an entire dinner and securement of revenge between me and my date with his chest. “I am expecting a very nice reward for sharing that with you.”
His smirk promised trouble. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I have rewarding you penned in after dinner and a rather entertaining after-dinner show.”
Fifteen
How can a wine be mysterious?
The Devil took me to a fancy restaurant deep in the heart of Manhattan, the kind of place I didn’t even bother dreaming about going to. A single look at the menu taught me a very important lesson.
A bottle of wine could cost more than the safety and security of a baby.
I couldn’t understand why. Unsure of how to ask, I pointed at the bottle and showed it to him, unable to keep my puzzlement from showing.
“Status,” he replied, and he pointed at a much cheaper bottle, something I could afford if I skimped for a week or two. “This vintage tastes better to me, honestly, and it partners with a lot more things. That bottle you’re looking at is purchased when someone has a point to make and doesn’t care how much money he drinks away to make that point. Is it worth that much? Sure, to those who wish to make that point, but in so many cases, more expensive doesn’t mean it’s actually better.”
Huh. The Devil could be practical. “Which one is your favorite?”
His finger slid up several items to a bottle of wine not much more expensive than the one he’d initially showcased. “This one is a little sweeter, and it’s full of mystery. I like mysterious things.”
“How can a wine be mysterious?”
“Obviously, I will have to teach you.” He flagged down a waiter and pointed at the two cheaper bottles of wine and requested both of them. Once the waiter left, he used the wine menu to point somewhere behind me. “Gallo just arrived with several of his right-hand men. It seems my demons and devils have done their work well.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m cheating.”
Ah. I wondered what sort of things men like Gallo thought about when going to a fancy restaurant knowing his wife slowly died. “How is his wife doing?”
“Your concern for her condition will eat you alive, won’t it?”
“Probably,” I admitted.
The Devil reached into his suit jacket, dialed a number, and held his cell phone to his ear. “Belial, I require you to handle the matter we discussed earlier. I recommend you inquire with Michael for how best to treat her. Darlene is disturbed, and she will not enjoy the rest of tonight’s activities unless it is addressed. You may as well implement the rest of our plans. I have visual verification the more dangerous elements are occupied. Make the guest quarters in my home comfortable until proper placement can be made, and take extra care with any younglings. Recruit the succubi to handle them as needed. Yes, we’re being a charity tonight. Treat it like Halloween or something, and you’re dressing up as angels or some nonsense like that. Turn it into a game. Whomever makes the best performance gets treats instead of tricks with an added benefit of pleasing Darlene. Also, I’m going to need fresh clams for my feline, and the kitchen can get creative with their preparation, just remember she’s not quite as adventurous as the average devil yet. Also acquire any other feline appropriate treats she might enjoy.”
I giggled at that, turning my attention to the actual menu while my stomach gurgled complaints over its mostly empty state. When the Devil hung up, I pointed at one of the steaks on the menu, which cost more than I tended to spend in an entire week on groceries. “Is this one good?”
He checked my choice, nodded, and eyed the rest of the menu, pointing at an appetizer of lobster bisque. “I bet some lobster cooked in cream will make my little kitty purr.”
I bet it would, too. “They have cocktail shrimp, too.”
“Yours for the taking as well.” After a moment of consideration, he pointed at something on the menu. “You should round out your seafood conquests with their smoked salmon before enjoying your steak.”
“What are you having?”
“Steak, steak, and more steak. I might have a potato for variety, but I enjoy steak very much.”
Since he’d picked for me, I pointed at the salads. “And a salad. We should both have a salad so we’re pretending we’re eating healthily.”
“We don’t have to eat healthily.”
“But salads taste good, especially when they’re slathered with creamy dressings and bacon. There’s bacon on these salads, Lucifer. There’s egg and cheese, too.”
“You’re going to make me eat a salad, aren’t you?”
“The salad will help me pretend I’m not indulging in an act of gluttony. What are the fucking assholes doing?”