“Say ‘Thank you, My Lord of Darkness,’ and I’ll feed you. I think adding ‘my’ to it makes it even cuter.”
“Well, I guess starvation is in my future.”
“No! My Lord of Suits, your husband has braved the deepest and darkest pits of hell to acquire the coin to buy this fancy feast for you,” he says as he pulls out my burger and unwraps it enough that the top is exposed so he can try to feed it to me.
“I’m going to sit in the back of the car and enjoy my food, but before I go, I will put an illusion up here that you can play with instead.”
“Ooh, twice the fun. So… serious question.”
I take the burger, not looking forward to another question about my episode in the bathroom.
“Have you ever had sex where your illusions joined in? I wouldn’t mind being spit-roasted by two Lords of Suits, if you get my drift.”
I nearly choke on my first bite. “If I get yourdrift?How much clearer could that be?!”
Asmodeus smiles, pleased with himself. This man is going to be the absolute death of me. What the fuck. What the fuck?
“I was going to compliment you on your skills earlier today, and instead, I’ve just been met with your delusion! No, I’m not… spi… doing that to you!”
He’s still beaming. “You think my skills are delectable.”
“Definitely not the word I would have used. And I regret even thinking about complimenting you. What if we try eating in silence?”
“I just… I don’t think there is a world in which that would work, even if I begged my demons for their assistance,” he says as he bites into a fry while giving me such a ridiculous look. How could I ever have found myself even remotely interested in this man? He’s irritating and out of control and is going to be the death of me.
But he also makes me forget… makes me feel like there’s more to me than a man who has destroyed everything. Who has ruined so many lives. Who is spiraling out of control.
“Ooh, I got a surprise onion ring,” Asmodeus exclaims as he pulls it out of the container. He takes my hand, and I assume he’s giving me the onion ring to eat until he slides it onto my ring finger. “Until death do us part, eh?”
I bite into it and quickly chew it off. “Glad that’s over with.”
“It’s fine,” he says, shifting in his seat so he’s facing me. He gives the ferret a piece of his fry and the monster consumes it swiftly. “I can see that thread of fate twirled around your greasy finger that is connected to mine.”
I ignore him, positive that if I do so, I might be able to survive this, but itisAsmodeus I’m dealing with. The man refuses to adhere to any rules that should exist.
He has such a pleasant smile on his face while he leans his head against the door. “I love this. I love all of this so much. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
I watch him closely as he flashes his smile at me. I want to ask him why he can’t sleep, then, but I don’t want to destroy that smile. Instead, I stuff my face with my burger and pretend that everything is perfectly fine.
We pull into the driveway of my house, and I head inside, but I don’t get far before Asmodeus slides in front of me and presses his sheathed knife against my mother’s throat.
“Ellison, it looks like Lucifer let herself in. Should I exorcise her?” He makes the sign of the cross and mimes throwing holy water at her while my mother scowls.
“Why is he in your house?” she asks.
“I swear we already explained this,” I respond. “Asmodeus, go take a shower or whatever.”
“Fine, fine, fine,” he says as he twirls his knife before putting it away. “Just don’t forget that I can shoot farther than the human eye can see.”
I watch Asmodeus go up the stairs before disappearing into his room, then turn to my mother. “If I wanted to see you, I would have replied to your text. What do you want?”
She slams some photographs against my chest. I lift them up and see a picture of a hollow-eyed teenager staring back at me. It takes longer than I wish to admit for me to realize that the teenager is Asmodeus.
“A detective became quite invested in this… organization,” she says. “He spent years gathering information on a group of killersthat manbelongs to.”
I flip through the photographs and look down at images of dead people… so many dead. “What are these?”
“The detective could never get evidence because they cleaned up their kills perfectly—that is, until the day one of their own slaughtered them all and left their bodies to rot,” she says. “That is the man you’re letting in your house.”
