I’m a demon, and it’s about time that I start coming to terms with that.
I know that I’m here for a reason. I enjoy violence. It’s not only evident in the crimes that got me sent to Hell, but watching Lucifer with his casual violence and power towards a man who deserved it, turned me on. It made me crave it for myself.
Ugh, I miss my fucking dagger.The way it made me feel powerful and warmed my hip. I miss feeling dangerous. Right now, I feel like a guilty imposter.
I still don’t know if I have a gift. Really, the only demons who have been kind or embraced me in this realm are Lucifer, Kas, and Elvor. As much as I tend to linger on the past, I think I need to start working towards the future by making my place in Hell known and embracing who I can be as a demon.
As much as I want to take this step forward in this new world, I can’t stop seeing Diana’s horrified face every time I think about the bad deeds I can’t help but seem to enjoy.
Chapter thirteen
Thispastweekhasbeen quiet, but tonight is supposed to be eventful. Asmodeus is apparently throwing a ‘Welcome back to Hell’ party for himself. I asked Kas if she was going, and she said she had a job to do on Earth. I could tell there was something more to her answer, and I don’t care if it takes me many immortal years, I’m going to find out.
I’m in Lucifer’s office, going through his schedule for the next week. The meeting with Heaven is coming up, and I’ve tried to be on my best behavior so that he takes me. He’s been a little distant since he was all up in my personal space after killing the fae king. I’m grateful for it—I think.
“Are you going to the party tonight?” I ask, looking at him from under my lashes as he sits at his desk. He shakes his head no and swallows down another glass of whiskey. I’d say he’s an alcoholic, but he doesn’t seem to get drunk. Maybe it’s something to do with his hands. I have other ideas about what he could do with his hands, but I shake my head, focusing back on him when he speaks.
“You’re going?” he asks, arching an eyebrow, but he doesn’t look up from what he’s working on.
“I figured it was time to interact with more demons.” He hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t add any additional commentary. “Should I not go?” I ask, feeling insecure. It feels like Lucifer has sequestered me away from everyone else in his realm. I’d ask why, but I know he would either not answer or answer with some sort of riddle.
“You’re free to do what you wish. Minx is here in Hell.”
“Helpful,” I mutter under my breath, and I watch his lip twitch. Obviously, I knew the club was in Hell, not like Asmodeous is having us all portal and party at some human establishment.
We continue working in silence, even though I still have a million questions. He still hasn’t given me a straight answer for nearly any question I’ve asked, and the secrets between us are pissing me off. But right now is not the time to get into it. I need to be a good girl to be able to go to that meeting and find out for myself if Diana is okay. I feel like it’s the only way I’ll be able to move on. I need to know that she’s safe and that she doesn’t hate me.
Once my work is done, I glance up at him. “Is there anything else?”
He shakes his head and without speaking, leaves the room.Such a moody bastard sometimes, I swear.
I go back to my quarters and make myself look hot. I have demons to impress, and well, I need to establish that I’m not someone to be fucked with. I hate to admit it, but from the looks I’ve gotten, it’s clear that most of the demons here feel some sort of way about me. They’re suspicious about Lucifer’s treatment of me—I guess I am too. But I need to set the record straight. I’m more than Lucifer’s assistant; I can be deadly when I want to, and I won’t allow the constant disrespect.
Lucifer and Kas can’t be my only friends here. If I can even truly call them that. I’m in a new place, and I don’t have my sister anymore to rely on when it comes to being social. It’s outside of my comfort zone—making new friends, but everyone here is a demon. The expectations of my morality aren’t like what they were on earth.
At least that’s what I tell myself as I wiggle into the most salacious dress I’ve ever worn. It’s deep red, so red it nearly looks black. It covers my tits, but there are strings of fabric holding it intact. My entire back is bare, and the skirt is long, but the slits are high, exposing my thighs with every movement. I choose to wear my hair down. It’s long, and I swear it got softer and fuller when I became a demon. I put on some makeup to make my lashes longer, eyebrows darker, and by the time I’m done, I feel good.
More than good. If I’m being honest, I feel like myself. And as good as it feels, I’m not exactly sure what that means.Am I fully accepting this? My life in Hell? That I’m a demon and inherently evil?
I sigh, wanting Diana’s voice out of my head for just one night. I want to be able to let her judgment go, I really do. But I don’t have any closure.
My twin died right before my eyes, and the last words we said to each other are something I replay daily. Obviously, my being a demon isn’t going to change, so that leaves me with only one other option; I need to change the way I feel about it. I think the only way that will happen is if I see Diana happy and she sees that I’m okay. Then the past can be in the past.
With my shoulders pushed back and my head held high I portal to the club ready to party. It’s dark and gothic, just like Lucifer’s home. There’s red carpet throughout the space, with iron sconces on the walls and gold fixtures throughout. It’s a large open space with multiple pieces of furniture for people to sit on and talk. A dance floor is in the middle of the room, but no one is currently partaking in that.
“Barbie, you made it!” Asmodeus cheers, standing next to me with a wide smile.
“I did.”
He tugs me by the elbow to sit on one of the deep velvet couches. There’s a clearing of a throat next to me, and Asmodeus scoffs. “Where are my manners? Judd, this is Barbie.”
“Lilith,” I interject, and Asmodeus waves me off.
“She’s Lucifer’s new assssssistant,” he says with a smirk. “Judd is Hell’s local drug dealer; whatever you want, you got it.”
I clear my throat and shake my head. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“If you change your mind,” Judd says in a bored tone with a shrug. Judd looks like he might have just gotten to Hell recently, judging by his style. It looks like he listens to Nirvana, hates everyone, and smokes weed under the bleachers. He’s attractive, but he seems sad, and well, sad boys aren’t my type.
