by Nina Harper
“Oh my goodness,” Sybil exclaimed before I could say anything. She picked up my hand, admired my ring, and hugged me across the table. “Why aren’t the others here? This is the best news! Or did you want to talk to me because I’ve been married before? And—you’re going to think I’m crazy, Lily, but, umm, which one is it?”
I shook my head. “Marten, Syb, and we’re still provisional. And that’s not why I wanted to talk to you. It’s about something else. About Beliel.”
Sybil sat back down in her seat and placed her napkin on her lap. “Beliel? Wouldn’t Eros be the person to talk to about him?”
I shook my head sadly as our drinks arrived, vodka and cranberry for me and something lavender-infused for Sybil. I took several sips, hoping the alcohol would steady me. “I was at a meeting with Meph and Marduk on Thursday,” I started. “And Beliel was there—and, Sybil, he had Marduk arrested. Because someone has been embezzling from the Treasury. But there’s no evidence at all that Marduk is responsible.”
Sybil shook her head. “He’s the head of the department, so in the end he is responsible,” she said softly.
“I know,” I agreed. The drink made this only marginally easier. “But arresting him is not the right tactic, not if you really want to get to the demon who is doing it. It looked to me like Beliel jumped a little too eagerly to blame Marduk. Meph thinks he might be the one who is orchestrating things, so that he can set up Marduk. So we’re pawns in his power grab, is what it looks like.”
Sybil finished her drink and called for another. Our food arrived, and she tasted her Eggs Norwegian with smoked salmon and hollandaise before she answered. “I think now you’re the one jumping the gun,” she said after she swallowed. “Beliel is Eros’s friend, and she may know more. But if you want my advice, you should trust Eros before you trust any of the men. If Eros says that Beliel is clean, you should listen to her.”
I nodded because I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Sybil’s advice was politic, but she hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen Beliel arrest Marduk, she hadn’t seen Marduk’s terror when he admitted that he knew there was money missing. I was sure I was right, and Meph and Marten agreed with me. But Sybil was right about one thing. I couldn’t confront Eros about Beliel yet.
Sunday I stood outside Public and paced while I waited for my friends to arrive. I struggled with the decision of whether to tell them all about Beliel and confront them, or try to find more compelling evidence. I remembered that I had blown things with Nathan by speaking too soon. I’m not good at keeping silent, especially where my friends are concerned, but as I stood outside in the last chill of March I decided that this time I would wait.
Eros arrived and lifted an eyebrow at seeing me there before her. “Let’s get our name on the list,” she said as soon as she saw me. “If you are already here, the others will come before we can be seated.”
She sailed past me up to the hostess desk and lied breezily that our party was all here and ready. Whereupon the hostess armed herself with four menus and said that she could seat us immediately. Eros was so stunned that she couldn’t speak or move. I think I gasped. Public is one of the most popular brunch places on the island of Manhattan. As I struggled for something to say, Desi and Sybil came through the door. Eros waved them over and we followed the hostess to a table near the back.
“This is a miracle,” Desi said as we got settled and draped coats over the back of our chairs.
I waited until everyone was seated before I pulled off my gloves. “I have an announcement,” I said, but I’m not sure if the girls even heard me. Their eyes were riveted to my left hand.
“She’s engaged,” Sybil squealed as if she hadn’t known for a whole day already, and then she rushed around the table to throw her arms around me and kiss me on the cheek. “Oh, you’ll have to let me help with the wedding planning. When is it going to be?”
“Which one?” Eros asked, studying me. “Nathan or Marten? And what will you do about the other one?”
The waiter arrived then and we ordered, food and mimosas because we had to have something bubbly to toast my engagement.
“It’s only a provisional engagement,” I said. “I really need to talk to you about it, too. I mean, I think I want to marry him but there are complications.”
“Which one?” Desi echoed Eros’s question.
“Marten,” I said. “Nathan and I are not dating. Really truly we are not. We almost got back together in Aruba but in the end it was worse than when we arrived. And, I need your advice. Because Marten doesn’t want to be monogamous. He hasn’t said more than that about it, so I don’t really quite know what he means.”
“Are you leaving New York?” Sybil asked, her face white.
I shook my head. “That’s another thing to work out. I’m not leaving New York. And I don’t think he’s leaving Aruba, either. So there’s a lot to discuss and I’m not sure if it will work out. Which is why I’m not sure if it’s real enough, if I should think of myself as truly engaged. Or if it’s just the beginning of questions that won’t ever get answered. What do you think? Should I have done it? Should I back off?”
“Do you want to marry him?” Desi asked slowly.
I thought about it for a moment. Frankly, I thought about it longer than I had when I’d accepted him on Thursday night. “I think so. I don’t want to leave New York, though, and he knows that.”
“I would be desolated if you left New York,” Desi said.
“How do you feel about not being monogamous? Didn’t that make you upset, that he isn’t going to stop sleeping with other women?” Trust Sybil to ask the most naïve question.
“Can you be engaged and not be monogamous and not live in the same place? Does that count? Is that what I’ve been waiting for all these years?”
Sybil shook her head. “You should hold out for someone who is willing to give up everyone else for you, who is willing to do whatever it takes to be with you.”
Eros shook her head. “Monogamy hurts more relationships than it helps. Why shouldn’t Lily have as many lovers as she chooses and continue to hunt? Nathan is a hidebound idiot who isn’t willing to give up his stupid ideas of the universe. Face it, Lily, he’s not worth your time or your bother. While this one, this one is almost one of us. He won’t limit you, he’ll complement you. And isn’t that the whole idea of marriage? I think this is perfect!”
“You have never been married,” Sybil said.
Eros arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never wanted to get married,” she replied. “Domesticity is not exactly high on my list of desires. And I’d get bored with the same sex partner after a few weeks, even if I could have whomever else I wanted as well. Don’t you ever get tired of sleeping with the same person all the time?”
“Not if I love him,” Sybil replied. “I never got tired of sex with my husbands, and I was always faithful to them, too.”
“Were they always faithful to you?” Eros asked.
“I don’t know,” Sybil said airily. “I was always too wise to ask.”
The waiter arrived with plates of stuffed French toast, pancakes, omelets, bacon and sausage, and waffles loaded with strawberries and whipped cream. I was grateful that the food distracted everyone. I felt torn—completely wrapped up in the discussion of my engagement—but also aware that I was holding out vital information from my best buds. Every time I looked at Eros I wondered if she had any idea what Beliel had done to Meph, to Hell, and to us.
The waiter came back with our mimosas and I ordered a second round as soon as the first hit the table. Even if no one else wanted them, I was going to need the drinks. I needed my girlfriends, not only to support me but to counsel me and reassure me that I was really doing the best thing. And to keep me focused on the engagement so I didn’t have to consider the problem of Beliel and Marduk, and Mephistopheles.
“Okay, so what do you think I should do?” I asked.
“Do you love him?” Desi asked. “Do you want to marry him?”
“That would be a horrible reason to get married,” Sybil agreed with me. “Is that why you’re doing it?”
“Well, the strange thing is, he wants me to stay a succubus,” I admitted.
For the first time I can remember, well, at least in this decade, all of my girlfriends were stark silent.
“He wants you to do what?” Desi said incredulously.
“He wants me to stay a succubus. He’s a ceremonial magician,” I explained. “And he’s already sold most of his soul to Hell, so he’s got something like six hundred years on his contracts to live as a human. After that he’ll be a demon. He said he doesn’t want me to become mortal and die, he wants me immortal.”
“That’s so romantic,” Desi sighed.
I drank some of my mimosa and considered. Desi could be right, it could certainly be romantic. And there wasn’t anything wrong with him wanting me to live forever. “The thing that I don’t know is whether he wants me for me, or if he wants me to stay a demon because he wants to marry one of Satan’s Chosen. You have to admit, that does have its appeal.”
“Especially to a ceremonial magician,” Eros completed the thought. Trust Eros to see the nasty possibilities. (So why was she so blind to Beliel’s bad side?)
“But you already said yes, didn’t you?” Sybil asked.
I nodded since my mouth was full of banana stuffed French toast. Somehow eating crisp French toast soaked in maple syrup made the whole situation a little more bearable. Anything is easier to face when polishing off a plate of luxury brunch food and a third mimosa.
“So it’s done,” Sybil said. “You’ve agreed. You’re wearing the ring. So now is not the time to be second-guessing his motives.” She shot me a look that said her last statement covered the other problem besides my possible marriage.
I shook my head and swallowed hard. “We’re just provisionally engaged,” I argued. “It wasn’t an absolute yes, it was a maybe yes. But if I’d said no, that would have been the end of any possibility and I don’t want that. What would you have done?”
“I would have said yes,” Desi announced. “Marten is dreamy and I think it’s sweet that he wants you the way you are. Not like Nathan who wants you to be someone you’re not. My next move is to plan your engagement party. I’m thinking of tea at Lady Mendel’s. How does that sound?”
chapter
THIRTY-TWO
And Desi did plan the engagement party. I said no to Lady Mendel’s, so she had it in her apartment with the best of Hell in attendance. I bought a very edgy Gwen Stefani dress and boots. The party was at the end of April because Marten couldn’t get back into town before then, and he was more pleased than I was that Des was giving a party and that Meph and Beliel and Hatuman and Martha Herself had all RSVP’d in the affirmative.
I hadn’t wanted to invite Beliel, but Meph insisted. “Positioning,” he said curtly when I insisted I didn’t want the Head of Security there. “Besides, if you exclude him he’ll know we’re on to him, and we have to avoid that.”
Of course Marten was pleased with the guest list. Even if we broke up in the next week, he would have been personally introduced to Satan. Mephistopheles had already taken an interest in him, and would now take more. But strangely, when I talked to Marten (on Skype, so totally love Skype), I honestly believed that he was excited about the acknowledgment and not scheming for his own advancement.
When I was around my friends I was the Bride-to-Be. My friends all fussed over me. The morning of the party, Sybil took me to Bliss for the Works—a hot-stone massage, oxygen facial, and mani-pedi before we hit Matsu for lunch. Marten had come in the night before and we had had an, ummmm, lovely evening. I think that’s what you call loads of hot sex with your fiancé. I didn’t know what he was doing this morning, but Sybil assured me that Meph and Vincent had some plans that might have involved some kind of male-bonding sports event.
“Really, it’s going to be wonderful.” Sybil sighed as she inspected my new dress and shoes. “I wish I could wear this. And I’m hoping that a demon engagement will give Vincent some ideas.”
I was so appalled I nearly dropped my piece of California roll. “You haven’t been dating all that long,” I reminded her.
She shrugged. “You have been dating Marten for less,” she observed. “Anyway, it’s too early for Vincent to think about anything, and I wouldn’t consider him until he passed his Level Six exams. Which he is likely to in a year at this rate. And with Meph behind him, you know he’s doing well. So—I would like him to have the idea planted for when the time is right.”
She dropped me back at my place, which seemed strangely quiet with Marten out with the guys and his luggage in my bedroom. I read MagicMirror, where my party was definitely The Event of the week. Demons chatted about what they were going to wear and how much they envied The Happy Couple. That would be us.
I should be happier about this, I thought. I was finally getting married. I didn’t have to give anything up. I loved Marten and he wasn’t even asking me to give up other guys. It was time to get dressed and I dutifully poured myself into the shower. If everything was so wonderful, why was I so confused?
The new dress hugged my curves and played up my tiny waist and mass of hair. Marten showed up after I had finished dressing and stood quietly, inspecting me. Then he shook his head. “You will forgive me if I say I am sorry we have to go to this party,” he said. “Because really, I would like nothing better than to tear that dress off and for us to spend the evening here in your bed.”
He sounded so sincere that I was ready to agree to his suggestion. More hot sex with Marten would take my mind off Beliel and Marduk, and if we missed our own party, well, we’d be the porn stars of the century in Hell. And Hell has a good selection of porn stars. So I smiled and told him that I would love to stay in with him, but Desi would kill me if we didn’t show up on time and adequately dressed.
Desi’s apartment is done in shades of tan and chocolate and cream with a few touches of turquoise silk. The sofas are leather and clubby, the love seat is silk and ladylike, and she’d hung two Mary Cassatt portraits, an Edward Hopper lighthouse, and a single stunning Modigliani that dominated the space. It was elegant and expensive, understated and tasteful without being bland. A traditional Murano chandelier in turquoise and gold hung over the dining table where the caterers had laid out chafing dishes full of rijsttafel in honor of Marten’s Dutch heritage, lamb in pomegranate sauce, and spicy Moroccan eggplant in honor of mine. A man in full whites with a toque stood at a carving station armed with a giant fork and larger knife to deliver slices of roast beef, lamb or pork roast, or all three, to a guest’s gold-ringed plate. Other servers circulated discreetly with trays of scallops and shrimp wrapped in bacon and asparagus wrapped in mustard-flavored pastry.
Meph and Moloch stood together near a window that overlooked Lexington Avenue and sipped what appeared to be martinis while Beliel looked daggers at them from the dining room door. Martha sat enthroned on a club chair surrounded by sycophants, her elegance unruffled by their presence. Among them were Lawrence Carroll and Roman. I thought it was brilliant of Desi to invite them and even better for them to accept. And Lawrence was every inch the sophisticated gentleman. Not a trace of drama queen remained.
Desi stood up and clinked a knife against her glass. “I think everyone’s here,” she said loudly. Her words slurred just the tiniest bit and I wondered how many cosmos she had managed to consume while supervising the kitchen staff. “So I want to take this moment to say that I’ve known Lily for six hundred years, and I’m glad that a magician like Marten had the good sense to appreciate what an amazing woman she is. And I hope they have the very best marriage in He
ll.”
I raised my glass to her. “And with friends like all of you, I don’t see how we can have anything but,” I said loudly to enthusiastic applause. Lawrence actually beamed at me and squeezed Roman’s hand. Danielle came up on the arm of a gentleman who looked like he was barely out of high school and congratulated both of us soundly, including kissing Marten at least four times. Eros slid over to Beliel, who still glowered in the doorway, but projected less hostility when the demigoddess brought him a fresh drink.
And me, I enjoyed the party. Marten attended me but didn’t hover and Meph told me that he approved. He wouldn’t let me marry just anyone, but he thought Marten would do right by me and asked if he could give me away at the wedding.
I don’t really believe in the whole custom of giving away the bride so I told him that I would rather have him officiate, which made him look pleased.
I had been paying so much attention to Meph that I hadn’t noticed someone else come in. I went over to rejoin Marten to find him talking to—Nathan Coleman.
Why had Desi invited him?
My stomach lurched at the sight of him. I still wanted him at the same time I was still furious at him for the way he treated me in Aruba. “Hello, Nathan,” I said, and kept my tone cold enough to freeze oxygen. I did not hold out my hand.
“Lily, I wanted to congratulate you and Marten,” Nathan said, and he looked miserable. “He’s a great guy, I know you’ll be happy.” He sounded as if he were reading the notice of his own execution. And I was angry enough that I wanted him miserable. The satisfaction of his despair was not enough to make up for mine.
“So you two seem to be thick as thieves,” I said, trying very hard to sound perky.
“Marten was explaining nonmonogamy to me,” Nathan admitted. “And about immortal marriage in Hell.”
“I could have become mortal,” I reminded him. “Satan has granted me the option of leaving Hell and regaining my soul, if a man falls in love with me enough to marry me.”