Olivia Chase, a successful woman who sold her soul to the Devil in exchange for a baby, is offered a second deal of a lifetime after her daughter dies: she must harvest Lucifer a series of souls he claims belong in Hell in trade for her daughter's m...
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The sandman was not kind to me. I tossed and turned throughout the night, never quite reaching the restful sleep I needed. My head throbbed from staring at a mirror all day, and the storm that raged outside didn't help. The rain came in never-ending sheets pounding the windows, making it impossible to sleep.
Near dawn, I finally fell into a restless half-slumber, full of dreams about shattering souls and giant ornate boxes. I woke, trying to figure out how to get Sarah to Hell. From what Lucifer had explained, I knew that I needed to grab her, then fire-snap to open the portal. The rest would be automatic. It sounded easy enough, which, of course, made me suspicious about how effective it would be.
First things first, however, I had to be alone with her. Probably the easiest way to find a solution to that predicament was to be around her. Shawna offered me the best chance of making that happen.
~
Me: Lunch?
Shawna: Yes, but I can't leave the office.
Me: We'll order Chinese.
Shawna: Perfect! Ta!
~
I thought about going back to sleep, but my phone dinged again. I looked at it and found a text from Lucas Satana.
~
Lucifer: Can I come over? I have breakfast.
Me: Yes, but do you have coffee?
Lucifer: Of course I do.
Me: Magic words! Give me thirty.
~
I took a shower, finger-combed my curls, and then dressed quickly. I'd just tucked my scrying pendant into my shirt when Lucifer knocked on the door. With bags, no less.
"You really do have breakfast!" I exclaimed as I opened the door.
"And coffee," he said, holding up the box of the caffeinated elixir the perfect size for two.
I invited him in with a sweep of my arm and tried not to blush as he kissed my cheek when he passed.
He set the items on the counter gently and began to unpack. The aromas were delightful. He'd brought bagels as big as my fist, cream cheese, slices of quiche, and an entire container of bacon.
I sat on a stool and watched him bustle around my kitchen for a few minutes, getting out plates, silverware, and coffee cups. I could get used to this! He artfully arranged the food for us, then grabbed the cream and sugar.
"I remember you like real cream and your fancy sugar, so I ordered the coffee black," he explained as he poured.
"And I remember you like the strawberry preserves." I pointed to the pantry.
