“You said you weren’t going to root around in my head.”
“I never made any such promise. I observe privacy, but I find you so fascinating, it can be difficult to resist sneaking a peek at those thoughts that slip past your will. What I did promise you, however, was answers on the condition you had dinner with me. So please, ask whatever it is you’re wondering about.”
“Alright. What did happen between her and Abaddon?”
“She fell in love with someone else.”
“Oh…”
“Don’t feel sorry for him,” Lucifer sniffed. “He’s over it. It was a long time ago, and they weren’t exactly compatible.”
“Oh my God,” I blinked rapidly. “It was you. You’re the one she fell in love with.”
He didn’t confirm with a yes, but his expression was all the confirmation I needed.
“What happened to her?”
His features contorted with pain. “She died.”
“I’m so sorry. Wait. If she was the Queen of Hell, does that mean she was a demon? I thought demon shifters were supposed to be immortal?”
“We can die at one another’s hands. And when demons die, they normally don’t go back to Hell. It’s only human souls that get the second chance.”
I wanted to know how she died, but of course, I’d never ask such a personal question out loud. So instead, I thought it.
A few tense seconds passed, which had me questioning if he’d heard, but then he answered with a “Celestials killed her.”
“She was killed by angels?” I gasped. Sure, she was the Queen of Hell, but it’s pretty clear by the agony carved in Lucifer’s face that he still loved her, and if someone like him loved her so dearly, could she have really been all that bad?
We let the somber conversation topic lapse, and I perked up when the most delicious smells started wafting from the kitchen. A minute later, Cerberus zipped out of the kitchen with a steaming tray in tow.
“Whoa, you two look pretty sad for being seconds away from tasting the best dang minestrone soup you’ve ever put in your mouth.”
“Oh God, that smells downright sinful.”
“I should say it does. I’m told my soup is better than sex,” the chef joked nervously, placing the bowls in front of us with shaking hands as if he had the jitters a mortal might have, serving ambrosia to the gods. “I hope it pleases you both.”
“Your food is always no short of delicious, Cerberus. Thank you. That will be all for now.” Lucifer grinned at the man with genuine affection in his eyes. For a second, it reminded me of a master and his loyal hound.
The chef beamed like a dog who’d just received a pat on his head then scurried back off to the kitchen.
Lucifer lifted his spoon and arched a brow at me, something akin to mischief twinkling in his eyes. “Ready?”
I picked up my own spoon, examining the soup, which smelled like complete and utter mouth-watering bliss. I was used to drooling when presented with amazing food, but I’d never had the south end of my body water with anticipation for minestrone of all things.
“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to prepare for sexually stimulating soup served by a three-headed hound shifter chef, but here it goes.”
I scooped up the steaming liquid and took a tentative sip.
The hot broth first filled me with a warmth that eased my jitters even more than the wine had. It was pure comfort, like hot, delicious soup on a cold, stormy night. The taste was nostalgic, but what memory it called back, I couldn’t put my finger on. The second mouthful was completely different from the first. This one’s warmth was different. It sunk straight through my core, heating my skin and making me squirm in my chair.
It tasted like the comfort of a lover’s arms, like rain on a tarp—no, a tent… It was bizarre enough for soup to taste like tent sex but was even weirder was that I’d no concept of such a sensation. I’d never even been camping.
I set down my silverware to find Lucifer watching me again.
This wasn’t how I thought this dinner was going to go. I wasn’t really sure what I’d expected out of dinner with the devil. But it wasn’t this. There had been no talk about the contract.
Why did I feel like that was all just a ruse to get me here? Why was the meal so important?
