“I missed youuuuuu.” He wailed. “I couldn’t smell you. The phone is no use, your attention was on Ebony, not me.”
I attempted to extract myself. “Fuck, you’re freezing. There’s no way I’m snuggling you tonight. Not a chance in Hell.” I pushed him off me. Thank God he didn’t have full vamp strength yet. He’d probably have crushed every bone in my body. “Where’s my coffee, Frankie? And my doughnut.”
“They’re here.” I turned to see Lucy, the demon ex-manager of Hell walking in. She carried my coffee cup in her hand - her glowing amber hand. “Kept it super-hot for you.” She said. “Couldn’t do the same with him unfortunately.” She pointed a red talon at Frankie. “He’s still pathetic, I see.”
“I’m going to take him to see someone. Hopefully they can help with separating him from me.”
She flicked a flame from her thumb. “Vamps and fire don’t mix. Just say the word.”
Frankie whizzed up to a far corner of the ceiling where he folded into himself and shut down. It was like having a vampire edition Alexa.
“Lucy. For God’s sake you’ve frightened him even more.”
She set fire to my new Zoella notebook. I threw my coffee over it distraught. “God, what did you do that for?”
My pencils turned to ash next.
“Stop saying those words. I can’t help my response.” She shrieked.
I thought back to what I’d said. Oh yeah, the ‘G’ word had come out. Shit.
“Now I have no coffee and no nice notebook and pencils.” I told her. “There’d better be a good reason you came in here.”
“There’s an excellent reason.” She smiled wide and adjusted the headband that covered her horns. “It’s been way too long since I had any romance in my life. I need you to find me a date.”
Unfortunately, that proved the end for my new desk tidy. I really would have to work on my blasphemy.
Chapter Three
Kim
“Hold up there hot stuff.” I needed a second to process this. I turned back in my chair and put my hand over my mouth. The worst tempered woman in the world wanted a date. Deep breaths Kim.
I swung back around on my chair to face her. “So let me get this straight. You want a date and romance? You’re not just using Withernsea dating as an escort agency in a bid to get laid?”
“Well, obviously I’d like to ‘get laid’ as you term it, but no. I’ve been without a romantic partner for almost 27 years and it’s time I got back on the horse so to speak. I guess they call it a ride for a reason. Plus, you never know, if I fall in love maybe my horns will fall off.”
I felt sorry that Satan had left her with her horns intact as revenge for escaping Hell. She had no choice but to adopt a boho look so she could wear a lot of floral headbands.
I picked up a notepad and pencil from my drawer, unfortunately not able to use my brand new Zoella ones as they were now ash or dripping in coffee. “Okay, Lucy, take a seat and let me go through the initial set of questions.”
Lucy tapped a Louboutin clad foot. “Is this going to take long? Can’t I just look at the photos and pick one?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “No. If you want the help of Withernsea’s most fabulous dating agency, we’re doing this properly.”
She harrumphed and sat down. “Very well, and we have to do this with Frankly Batshit stuck above our heads?”
“Unfortunately, right now - where I go, he goes. So until I figure something out, he’ll be here.”
“Well, if he repeats anything he heard here today, I’ll incinerate him.”
Frankie’s arms folded in even closer around himself.
“Okay, your name.” I asked her.
“You know my name. I do hope we’re not going to spend thirty valuable minutes with you asking me things you already know.”
I typed in Lucy Fir.
“No middle name then?”
“Not one I’m admitting to,” she said under her breath.
“Aww, come on, Luce. To get the best from the machine I need full and frank answers.”
After a series of disgruntled facial expressions followed by flared nostrils, she spat out, “Connie.”
I snorted. “Pardon?”
“Okay, okay. My middle name is Connie, after my mother’s mum - my granny.”
“Lucy Connie Fir.” I wrote down trying to keep a straight face. It was no good. “Connie-fir. Pahahahahaha.”
I smelled the definite odour of burned hair and sniffed around me.
“You might need a trim.” She said, pointing at a singed piece of my hair.
“Oh my fucking-”
“STOOOOPPP,” Lucy yelled. “Or you’ll end up bald.”
She sat back. “Look, Kim. You can’t blaspheme near me or really take the piss because Satan has left me with residual powers and I don’t know when they will fade. Quite frankly, I am still a little evil. So please can we go forward without any more drama, or I’ll be getting a jail sentence instead of a date and I’ve spent quite enough time trapped in a dark place over the last few years.”
“Fine. I’ll go carefully.” I said. She had no worries, she’d nearly burned my fucking hair off. Shelley would have to work out additional protection spells for us all while she was still volatile.
“What’s your date of birth?”
“The second of March 1965.”
“You’d think Hell would have given you wrinkles, with all that suffering.”
Lucy looked me directly in the eye. “I didn’t suffer though, or age. While you’re there you turn evil like your surroundings. I had a jolly old time watching people tortured, especially if I needed to whip them.”
I made a side note to ask her later if she might still like the whipping.
“Okay. Hair colour is ginger, skin colour: pale, height - I’m guessing around 5 foot 8 inches, you seem a couple of inches taller than me.”
“I’m five foot nine.”
I asked for her weight. No way was I guessing that wrong and being flambeed.
“Any distinguishing features?”
“Other than two red protrusions on the top of my head? Nope.”
“Your place of birth was here in Withernsea.” I wrote that down. “Okay, current address.”
“Hmmmmm. I have a little problem there.” She chewed the side of her mouth for a moment before her green eyes brightened. “Oh actually, I just thought of a solution. My current address is 73 Holly Avenue, Withernsea.” She broke out into a wide smile displaying those perfect white teeth.
Have you ever seen a vampire fall off a ceiling?
I did. Right then.
“That’s my address.” Frankie shouted from the floor.
“Yes, but you’re not living there are you? You’re staying with her.” She pointed at me. “So really I’d be doing you a favour by staying at your place. It’ll keep intruders away. Where are your keys?”
“Hang on.” I interrupted. “I thought you went back to your old home?”
Lucy crossed one leg over the other and sighed. “I did, and I’ve lived there ever since I returned, but you see, my family had presumed I was dead and had given up my let and so I’ve been having to share with this middle-aged dude who farts all the time. And well, he realised this morning that I was resident in the loft and he had a little panic attack. When he’d calmed down, he told me I could remain sharing and even get a bed to sleep in. It just had to be his and I could share as my part of the rent.”
“And?”
“And so I’ve burned my bridges there, so to speak.”
“You set the place on fire?”
“It might need a little redecorating. But it was his fault, methane and fire. BOOM.” She smacked her palms together and then pulled them apart.
I could feel panic settling in. Who the hell was I going to set her up with? I could put them in grave danger. The only person I could think of was Satan himself and he wasn’t dating, he was in Hell, raging at no longer having Withernsea as his
playground.
“I’ll get you Frankie’s keys, as long as you sign a legal document stating that you’re responsible for any repairs resulting from your special powers and also you need to pay him rent. You can stay there until Frankie is a) ready to move back into his own home or b) he moves elsewhere and needs to sell up.
Lucy smiled again. “Oh, yay! My own home! No one but little old me. It’s been so long since I’ve had any me-time, as you call it these days.”
It was strange seeing her genuinely happy, quite unnerving. “About that. You won’t be completely on your own. Frankie has a cat that the neighbours have been feeding. Maisie’s now temporarily yours.”
Frankie made a strange noise like a laugh but from under a bitten fist.
“Anyway, moving on. Any family history of note?”
“No. I have a normal family. They’ve moved to Bridlington apparently.” She looked at my expression and answered my question without my having to ask.
“I’m not sure about getting in touch or going to visit them. It’s hard to explain to mortal parents why you haven’t aged and where you’ve been for 26 years. I need to think things over, and I know for a fact that you only want to know this because you’re a gossip queen and it has sod all to do with my application.”
I stuck out my tongue, ever the professional.
“What’s your favourite food?”
“Anything but barbecue. I smell that at my current place of employment and did at my previous.” Lucy now owned a steakhouse near the promenade. Where the money had come from to buy it had not been shared, but I know Shelley’s father had a lot of money and a guilt complex for leaving her all those years ago.
“Almost there now. What is your ideal date?”
“Most definitely NOT a restaurant, or a bonfire, or a sauna, or beach holiday. Nowhere hot. Maybe building snowmen, skiing, walking around the chiller cabinets in the Asda.”
“I’ll write down a winter’s stroll. Okay, finally your reason for application to the agency. Here I’ll give you a piece of paper and a pen and you can write that bit out yourself as it needs to come from the heart.” If you have one.
Lucy sighed but took the pen, paper and a magazine I’d given her to rest on. At one point steam actually came out of her horns but I thought it best not to comment.
“There.” She handed me the paper back.
“Okay, just give me a few minutes and I’ll type this into the computer.”
I hit the keys, copying over her reason for application.
Twenty-six years ago my boyfriend left me for another woman. I later found out that the important future child of Withernsea who I presumed I would carry, would be carried by this other woman. I therefore made plans with Satan and split them up. Since then I have had a lot of time to reflect on my actions and realised from keeping Dylan in Hell that he wasn’t the one for me anyway. We didn’t really have a spark and when I recently found out he was in fact a Wyvern and from the sea, maybe that’s why. Fire and water don’t mix.
Since I’ve returned, I’ve had to put up with seeing Dylan and his wife, Margret, newly reunited and with their daughter, Shelley, - the picture of a perfect happy family and it makes me want to burn the fucking lot of them to a crisp look for my own new love so I can put the past behind me and move on with my life now I am back resident in Withernsea.
“So no water sprites then, or mermen?”
“Most definitely not.”
“Okay, leave this with me, Lucy. I might need to do a follow up interview before I see what the computer algorithm brings up for you. So, I’ll be in touch.”
I crouched over Frankie and got his house keys out of his pocket. At one time that would have led to an immediate hard on and sex but this time he just whimpered.
I threw them at Lucy and she caught on first try. Quick reflexes. I’d add that to my list of features.
“If you plan a housewarming, please don’t take it in the literal sense.”
“Ha ha.” She replied sarcastically and with that she sashayed out of the room.
I stood there looking at the quivering wreck that used to be my boyfriend.
What was I going to do with him?
Chapter Four
Lucy
I don’t know why Kim, Shelley, etc had to give me such a hard time about my fiery accidents. I had just escaped Hell. Did they expect I’d be down here repenting, granting wishes, and doing charity work? I had twenty-six years to catch up on. The first thing I intended to do was to have as much fun as I possibly could. My real age on my birth certificate might be fifty-three but my body was twenty-seven and me and my perfect hourglass figure were going to paint the town red. Oh, come on, what other colour was an ex-devil going to paint it?
I got a taxi down to my new home and was pleasantly surprised as it pulled up outside a detached bungalow. As I let myself in and walked through the hallway, I noted all the boring masculine tones of blacks and greys. Looked like I might have to grab a few accessories for the place. Pushing open the living room door, I anticipated looking around the space but instead my vision went black and severe pain struck my face.
“Hisssssss.”
“What the fuck?”
I finally managed to extricate myself from the cat’s claws and threw it onto the couch. I felt at my face and then glanced at my fingertips that were coated in red blood - my blood.
Hissing myself, a flicker of flame licked at my fingertip. “I suggest you don’t do that again, Maisie, because your owner doesn’t seem to like hot pussy any more, so you’d better not attack your new one.”
The black cat trembled and then in front of my eyes, limbs elongated and there in front of me, a woman with green eyes, cocoa coloured skin, and long, jet black hair appeared.
“So you know who I am? Who the fuck are you?”
“Interesting.” I said glancing over her. “Kim didn’t tell me you were a shifter. She thought you were most definitely a pet.”
Maisie folded her arms across her waist. She was wearing a shimmery black dress, and I thanked God that when she shifted she didn’t appear in her birthday suit. The only pussy I wanted to see was when she was in feline form.
“Well?” I probed further.
She shrugged. “They don’t know. Frankie doesn’t know. He stitched me up one day at the hospital and I thought he was caring and would look after me. So I shifted, and he adopted me after I’d hung around here a little.”
“And he has absolutely no idea?”
Maisie moved and laid down on the sofa, tucking her legs up under herself and yawning. “See, I’m always tired. I like being a cat. I get fed, petted and get to sleep all day. Frankie watched TV a lot so that was good. I’ve been happy being a couch potato. But then he didn’t come home. The neighbours have popped in and they keep saying things like ‘Poor Frankie,’ but obviously as a cat I can’t ask where he is.”
“Your neighbours believe Frankie is in a psychiatric establishment.”
“And where is he really?”
“He got burned to death by Satan, brought back as a vampire, lost all his magical powers, became some weird vamp reject that never wants to sleep, developed an attachment disorder to his lover and is currently hanging around upside down wherever she is.”
Maisie sat up, her mouth hung open. “You’re playing with me, right?”
“Do I look like I have a little ball with a bell in it? He’s lost it. Kim’s taking him to the doctors but for now he’s staying with her. Whether she likes it or not. So seeing as I was of no fixed abode, I asked if I could stay here until he feels better.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Lucy. Lucy Fir. Ex-watcher of Hell.”
She hissed again, her green eyes going wide. “Sorry, that was rude.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t sweat it. Its not every day you meet an ex-demon.”
“Ex? So you don’t have evil powers? How did you do that flame trick then?”
“Satan wasn’t ha
ppy about my freedom, so I’ve been left with some residual powers, hence the fiery fingers and he also refused to remove these.” I pulled my headband off which was giving me a headache anyway and moved my hair to give Maisie the full effect of my horns.
“Whoa.” Maisie got up and brushed past me, then stared at my horns and batted them.
I startled. “What are you doing?”
“I’m part cat, duh. Just like you can’t stop your little flame. I get attracted to tiny objects and want to play.”
“Must be difficult if you date a man with a small penis.”
She stood and stretched. “I don’t date. I was happy here with Frankie. If you’re staying will you feed me?”
“I have no problems opening a tin of cat food.”
“Would you pet me, stroke me?” She pouted, brushing past me again.
“Hell, no. I don’t bat for that side. Go visit the neighbours for that.”
“Well, I sleep on Frankie’s bed so you’ll need to take the spare room.”
“Yeah, planned to anyway, and I’ll buy fresh bedding.”
Maisie tilted her head to one side. “Please don’t tell anyone that you met the real me. If Frankie comes back, I will probably remain his pet as long as his ability to care for me is intact.”
“You have my word. So when was the last time you went out? Properly out? As in for a drink or something and I don’t mean a saucer of milk from next door.”
“Erm, two years ago maybe?”
“Excellent. Tomorrow night you and me are going out on the town. I need to see what the Withernsea night life looks like and check out the human men until the dating agency match me up with my new love.”
Maisie’s brows drew together. “What would you need from a dating agency? You are beautiful, with your pale skin and glorious ginger hair. Men should fall over themselves to date you, especially my fellow cat shifters. Female gingers are rare in our world and revered.”
Supernatural Dating Agency - The Complete Collection (Books 1-6) Page 14