03 Before The Devil Knows You're Dead-Speak Of The Devil

by Eimer, Patricia

  “I’d bought the stupid bike as a splurge after finishing law school. I’d had this insane idea about biking to work every day and being environmentally friendly. Which lasted all of one day because I realized that bike riding in Pittsburgh leaves you sweaty, rumpled, and covered in a fine layer of potentially carcinogenic air pollution.”

  “So you hadn’t been riding it then?” I asked.

  “No, the stupid thing had been collecting dust until you ran it over. I didn’t know whether I was supposed to scream at you for destroying it and getting it out of my life, or thank you for giving me an excuse to never try bike riding again.”

  “You didn’t do either. You stood there and glared at me like I was dirt on your shoes.” I smiled and he ran his fingers through my hair.

  “More like tried to calm down so I didn’t stutter and make an ass out of myself,” Matt said. “I hadn’t been that nervous around a woman in my entire life. I was terrified my voice would crack or something and you’d think I was a total jackass. As it was, I spent the next six months trying to come up with excuses to see you again.”

  “You did?”

  “This is embarrassing, but I bribed the mailman into putting your mail in my box so I had a reason to stop by and drop it off. It worked until they switched his route and I could never get the new mail lady to look me in the eyes long enough to convince her to give me your mail. She kept telling me she didn’t have any patience with stalkers and if I didn’t get out of her way, she was going to mace me.”

  “Wow, someone was diligent about her job.”

  “You know what they say.” Matt leaned in to brush his lips against mine. “Neither snow nor sleet nor hail nor entranced men will stop a postal worker from completing their mission. They are the package handling version of the marines.”

  “Entranced men, huh?”

  “I fell in love with you the very first moment I saw you, Faith,” Matt said. “You have to trust me. Trust that I won’t let us fail. I need you too much to let you go now. So please, trust me to love you like you deserve.”

  “Okay, you’re right. Let’s do this.”

  “Great.” Matt smiled at me, his eyes sparkling. “Now, come on, you’ve got to take Roisin shopping and I’ve got to figure out how to tell your father we’re back together in a way that doesn’t get me castrated by a succubae.”

  “Succubae’s don’t castrate men. That’s not really their thing,” I said as we both stood and he led me inside and up the stairs.

  “Well, hello there,” Malachi said as I stepped into my apartment, Matt a step behind me. He floated close, the cowl of his hood lowered over his face and his big black eyes were filled with mirth. “I have eavesdropped that congratulations are in order. So I will herd everyone else out of the building and you two can feel free to celebrate your reunion as loudly as you want.”

  “No can do. I’ve got to drive Mom to Nordstrom’s in Ross Park,” I said. “She called to tell me and we should have left five minutes ago to make it in time.”

  “Too bad.” Malachi glanced over at Matt and smirked. “With the way you’ve been going through batteries I’d have thought a day to do nothing but shag each other senseless would be exactly what the doctor ordered.”

  “Mal,” I said.

  “What?” He closed his eyes and his whole form wavered while the room filled with the mingling smells of brimstone and burnt reality as he shifted from his usual, three-foot, cartoonesque form that mimicked the grim reaper to his natural shape.

  Well over six feet, with chin-length black curls and the same piercing black eyes as before. In short, when my bodyguard wanted to be, not only was he a badass, he was a hot badass. Not as hot as the nephilim standing behind me, but I didn’t know too many women who would kick him out of their beds on a scorching-hot morning, much less a cold one.

  “We should go.”

  “You can’t leave,” Tolliver said and I looked up to see him standing in my kitchen with the door to my fridge open. “You’re supposed to be here guarding Lisa and AC 2.0.”

  “I told you we’re not calling the baby that,” Lisa said and the scent of scorched milk overpowered the lingering traces of brimstone. “It’s not even a real name. It sounds like some sort of computer program.”

  “Well we can’t call him AC, people will get confused.” Tolliver snagged one of the chocolate cupcakes I’d had stashed in the fridge for later and took a big bite.

  “She is not going to have a number in her name.” Lisa turned to look at the rest of us. “Am I losing my mind, or is it inappropriate to have a number in your child’s given name?”

  Harold floated out of the guest bedroom he’d taken to calling his own when he needed time away from haunting Rogers’ Pediatric Hospital and floated over to sniff at Tolliver’s cupcake. “Lots of people have a number in their name. It’s not that strange. In fact, I have a number in my name.”

  “What?” Lisa asked. “You do not.”

  “I do. I’m Dr. Harold Lucas Winslow the Fourth. My father was Dr. Winslow the Third, and he was a heart surgeon. My grandfather was Dr. Winslow Jr. or Dr. Winslow the Younger as they used to call him and he and my great-grandfather were old-school family practitioners. All very respectable, except for my Uncle Aloysius.

  “Why?” I asked. “What did he do?”

  “He became a cosmetic surgeon who specialized in giving Las Vegas showgirls exceedingly large breasts—even the performers who weren’t biologically inclined toward them. Bit of a pioneer in the avant-garde was Uncle Aloysius.”

  “I’m not talking about something like a Jr. He wants to name my baby AC 2.0. That’s completely different,” Lisa said.

  “No it’s not,” Tolliver said. “It’s exactly the same thing. Harold is a Fourth. Our baby will be a second, a junior if you will.”

  “Your name isn’t AC,” Matt said.

  Suddenly it hit me where Tolliver was going with this. “No.” I pointed at him. “You are not allowed to name your child Antichrist Junior. It’s not allowed. He’ll get teased by the other demons.”

  “It’s—” Tolliver said and I noticed his keys sitting on my table.

  He’d recently bought himself a big, black, reinforced SUV that could survive a direct hit by an air to surface missile, IEDs, and tank fire. He said something about feeling better knowing the baby was in something that had a good crash safety rating and could withstand the Apocalypse if need be. I thought Lisa might be right about him being a little too paranoid.

  “No calling my niece or nephew the Anti-Christ.” I grabbed his keys.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as I started toward the door.

  “Taking your car.”

  “Why?”

  “Call it a stupidity tax.”

  Instead of waiting for him to answer, I slipped out of the apartment and left him and Lisa to argue it out. They only lived one floor down from me and could have fought about it there but I knew they wouldn’t. For some reason, everyone always congregated at my place.

  “Hey.” Matt grabbed my hand and stopped.

  “What?” I turned to look at him.

  Malachi continued down the stairs and waited discreetly on the landing. As much as he hated to admit that he liked anyone from the opposing team I knew he was rooting for me and Matt to make things work for the long haul.

  “You want me to go with you?” he asked. “I know your mom can be a bit draining if you’re dealing with her on your own.”

  “I’ll be fine.” I leaned my head against his chest. “If I’m lucky, she’ll be so busy spending Dad’s money she won’t even notice I’m there.”

  Matt wrapped his arms around me and let me rest there a second. “You know she loves you, right?”

  “I know.” I pulled away from him and started down the stairs to where Malachi was waiting. “She drives me crazy some times. They all drive me crazy.”

  “They’re supposed to drive you crazy,” Matt said as I continued down the stairs. “They’re
your family, but they love you something fierce and that makes up for the crazy.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I said and I could see that Malachi was smirking as we made our way out of the building to where Tolliver had parked his SUV in the lot.

  Chapter Four

  “What took you so long?” Mom crawled into the backseat of Tolliver’s SUV and pulled the door closed behind her with a solid thunk.

  “The confines of the land speed barrier,” I said.

  She waved her hand at me, in between the seats, and I had to jerk my head away to keep from being accidentally backhanded. “Go, go, we’re going to be late. Then what am I supposed to do? Personal shoppers are very touchy about whether or not you show up for an appointment on time. If Everleigh takes offense, she could refuse to work with me again. That would be a disaster.”

  “Why?” I put the car into drive and pulled away from her curb.

  My mother whipped a bright red, plastic compact out of her purse and opened it. She patted her platinum blond—dyed—ringlets smooth then checked her makeup. She pursed her candy-pink lips at the mirror and smiled, turning her head from side to side before blowing her reflection a kiss.

  “Who knows what kind of shopper I’d get the next time if Everleigh refuses to see me anymore? Or, Goddess protect me, what kind of taste another shopper might have? Plus, what would people say if they heard that the Queen of Hell couldn’t even get the personal shopper of her choice?”

  “That department store fashion is a lot more cutthroat than anyone first though?” I said. “Forget about the rivalries between fashion houses in Paris, the real smack down is in the malls in suburban America.”

  “You think you’re funny but you’re not. I’ve tried to tell you your entire life but you never listen. Royalty is held to higher standards, Faith, and you can never let yourself fall from that pedestal. People will talk and then you’ll find yourself in a situation like your half brother is in.”

  “Oh, yeah, Mom, I’d hate to be Tolliver. He’s happily married to the demoness of his dreams with a child on the way. What a terrible fate. I’m not sure how he can stand it.”

  I merged onto the highway and gunned the gas. If I had to put up with my mother and her crazy personal shopper/friend today, I wanted to get it done and over with quickly. Then I could head home for a little nap, possibly one that involved the nephilim next door.

  “I don’t know, marrying and having children sounds like Hell from my perspective— worse than Hell if you think about it. Hell at least lets a demon have some peace,” Malachi said, his voice as dry as the barren, western shore of Dad’s fiery lake.

  “That’s because you haven’t found the right girl yet.” I glanced over at Mal and saw him shudder, his broad shoulders rippling with the movement. “Give it some time. I’m sure the perfect woman is out there waiting. You need to get out there and find her.”

  “I am a centuries-old demon. I’ve seen millennia pass and haven’t batted an eye. If true love hasn’t shown up to tie a knot in my pointy tail by now, I think it’s fair to say she’s decided to skip me and hunt in more gullible pastures.”

  Malachi raised an eyebrow at me in challenge and we both snickered at the thought of Malachi dating. You were more likely to find an angel running an adult bookstore.

  “I wasn’t talking about the fact that your brother is married and with a child on the way.” Mom cut back into the conversation and I looked back to see that she once again had her makeup mirror up, liberally coating her eyelashes in mascara. For a moment I had to fight the urge to stomp on my brakes just so I could watch my mother jab herself in the eye with a mascara wand.

  “Then what were you talking about?”

  “I was referring to the lack of options that he had when it came time to choose a bride. Think about it. No other demoness wanted him, even though he’s the Crown Prince of Hell?”

  “It’s Tolliver,” I said.

  “You say that as if it’s understandable that he was forced to make himself a wife.”

  “I have to agree with Faith, Your Majesty,” Malachi said. “That’s Tolliver—his royal status had nothing to do with his lack of wifely prospects.”

  “No, his lack of suitable female companionship is a sign of a member of royalty who has disappointed his subjects. I’ve tried to tell your father this. How can he expect Tolliver to be successful as a leader when his own society’s women won’t have anything to do with him?” Mom argued.

  “How’s that conversation working out for you?” I tried not to roll my eyes at Mom’s less than subtle attempt at a power grab.

  “Besides, Tolliver doesn’t have any problem with the ladies. He simply didn’t like any that were available.” Malachi said. “Or at least he didn’t before he met up with Lisa.”

  “Your father refuses to see reason.” My mother pouted but I wasn’t paying attention to her any longer. Malachi’s comment was much more interesting.

  “What do you mean Tolliver didn’t have any problems with the ladies?” I glanced over at my dread demon and hit my blinker to get onto the exit for the mall. “He never brought home any female demons for the rest of us to meet.”

  “That’s because there weren’t any to bring home,” Malachi said.

  “You said he didn’t have a pro—”

  “I said he didn’t have a problem finding women who were interested in him. I didn’t say that any of them were the type of demoness you bring home to meet your sisters and your father. They definitely were not auditioning for long-term relationships. Hell preserve us, most of the women your brother dated probably couldn’t spell relationship.”

  “You’re getting off subject,” my mother said when we pulled off the exit and started down one of the side streets to the mall, brick storefronts and apartment buildings on either side of the busy, two-lane road. “Lilith—”

  “Lilith is way more into worrying about her future grandbaby than she is about what you’re wearing. After all, the next generation of Hell’s ruling class has come from her line,” I said.

  “That’s—”

  “No.” I didn’t bother to let her finish.

  “You really don’t understand—”

  “No, I really don’t care. Mom, you have to let this insane competition go. You’ve got to stop.”

  “Faith—”

  “Mom.” I glared at her. “I’m not getting in the middle of your rivalry with Lilith. Tolliver is happy. Lisa is happy. Everyone else is happy for them. Why can’t you go along with it? Why are you always—”

  “Faith!” Mom shrieked, her eyes wide as she threw her hand up to point at the windshield.

  “What?” I jerked my head around to look at the road, spotting the red light I was in the process of running and stomped hard on the brakes.

  The tires squealed, car horns from other drivers blared, and then there was the sickening crunch of Tolliver’s brand-new SUV making contact milliseconds before whatever I’d hit crumpled in the middle of the street.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh shit, I hit something.” I threw the car in park and scrambled to grab the door handle.

  “Faith,” Mom said as I managed to remember how to get the door open. I moved to get out of the car and the seatbelt pulled me back. I was going to have to take that off.

  “What?” I managed to unlock the seat belt with trembling fingers and wiggled free.

  “You can’t go out there. What if it’s a ploy by someone to carjack you? To kidnap you, rape you, and then murder you, all in an attempt to steal your brother’s car?”

  “Mom.” I stepped out of the car and didn’t bother to look at her. The car wasn’t cool enough for someone to go to those extremes. Besides, I had just hit something. Someone. With an SUV that was meant to withstand a missile strike. If I was lucky, then I was going to have to figure out a way to do a major healing—not to mention having Malachi make them forget the whole thing. That was if I hadn’t killed someone. Oh shit. I could have killed someon
e.

  “At least take Malachi with you,” she wailed, her hands up to her trembling pink lips and her eyes surrounded by raccoon-like circles from her ruined mascara.

  Meanwhile, Malachi stepped out of the passenger side, all business, and met me at the front of the SUV. How could he be so cool about something like this?

  I had just had a major accident. We’d hit something. I came around the side of the car and stared. Oh shit—not something. It was definitely someone. There was a guy lying in the middle of the crosswalk groaning, and from the angle of his leg there were definitely a few injuries. But at least he was still alive.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket to dial 911 and felt Malachi’s hand on my arm. “We have to get an ambulance for him.”

  “Don’t,” Mal said, his voice sharp, and the air around me dropped in temperature by at least twenty degrees. I looked up and saw a reality bubble moving outward to engulf us.

  Cars immediately passed into the other lane and swerved to avoid us, not realizing why they were doing it. To them we could look like anything—a monstrous pothole, a double-parked delivery van, an overturned chocolate milk tanker. “911 is a bad idea.”

  “He’s—” I stopped.

  The guy in front of me started to glow and my stomach plummeted into my shoes. Sunshine with a hint of myrrh. Crap, crap, and double crap. I hadn’t hit any old pedestrian—I’d managed to nail a member of the Heavenly Host.

  “Malachi, you demonic douche bag, is that you?” the man in front of me asked. The angel was surrounded by a golden light that flickered and sparked in random bursts and he was gasping for breath. This was so not good.

  I knelt beside him and tried to think. Stay calm and assess the situation. I was a nurse. I was a professional. I dealt with emergency situations all the time. I was not going to lose my head. I had just hit a member of the Heavenly Host. Downsides? There was no way to keep my dad out of this. Upsides? I was pretty sure you couldn’t actually kill an angel.

  “Valentin, you old soul sucker. You here for a pick up?” Malachi crouched next to the angel and I started to prod at his leg, trying to figure out just how badly it was broken. The dread demon ignored me but the angel flung his hand out and grabbed my wrist, tugging me back up toward his chest.