Curse of the Fae (PA #3)

Chapter One

Willow

Funeral Potatoes

Once the person has died, you will need:

-30 ounces diced or shredded potatoes

-2 cups sour cream

-10.5-ounce cream of chicken soup

-10 tablespoons butter, melted

-1 teaspoon salt

-1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

-1 teaspoon dried minced onion

-2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

-2 cups corn flakes cereal

It's a recipe I've never actually used. I grew up with long-dead humans and immortal demons, so funerals weren't a thing and neither were their aptly-named potatoes.

But the ingredient list comes to me now. As Lucifer orders his children to remove Michael's body and he gets down on his knees to scrub blood from the floor, I recount the steps it takes to make a dish I know in theory but not in practice.

Galileo's silent beside me. His hand holds mine captive, and the feeling is foreign in its familiarity.

It's been months since he touched me like this, and I'm surprised that my skin is so quick to remember him. My body forgives him, but the tender spots in my heart and the stubborn places in my brain aren't as convinced.

We've got a long road ahead of us, assuming Heaven doesn't execute Galileo for killing his father. What's the punishment for accomplices? I don't know what their justice system is like, or if they really even have one.

There are rules, I know that much. Lucifer broke some when he brought me to Hell—

Is the deal the Devil made with Michael null and void? Does the threat of failing to graduate no longer hang over my head?

These are questions for later, when bits of Michael's brain aren't being scraped from the floorboards and Galileo isn't quite so catatonic.

Abandoning his brush, Lucifer knee-walks to Galileo. "Listen. I'm going to take care of this. No one will suspect you killed your father when I'm the much more obvious party. They'll blame me, but they won't have the proof to do anything serious about it."

The only father I've ever known frowns, sincerity lining every inch of his countenance. "Michael deserved it, Galileo. Don't lose sleep over him. And if you need an outlet or an ear, Hell is always open to you. We're family now."

Galileo doesn't respond, lost in his own mind. Lucifer returns to his suds and I return to my wordless vigil.

Lucifer is full of sentimentality today. Between calling me his daughter and referring to Galileo as family, he's being extra-giving with the grand declarations.

It's a bright spot on a strange day.

I rest my head on my angel's shoulder, braving a question when he relaxes into me. "Is it too soon to ask how you're feeling?"

His sigh is resigned. "I'm not feeling much of anything. Ask me again in the morning."

The curtains are drawn and I don't wear a watch, but it was close to midnight when I waited by the portal. The conversation-turned-argument-turned-conversation with Kian and the Morningstars in Ragnar's room couldn't have lasted more than thirty minutes before I left.

I couldn't ignore the dread in my chest or the urgency in my bones. Instinctively, I knew that Galileo was in trouble and that's sort of where things get hazy.