Page 31 of Hell and Hexes
Chapter 12
Sylvie
Idrove over to Cassie’s, filled with that warm contentedness that suffused me every Sunday when we all got together for dinner. We might all be adults with our own homes, careers, and lives, but I loved how we connected as a group every week. Seven sisters and Aaron, our cousin who we treated as a brother, shared dinner and talked about our lives, reconnecting and reaffirming our connection with each other. There were occasions when Ophelia was working at the firehouse and couldn’t make it, and those Sundays always felt a bit empty. We made sure to bring her leftovers, but still missed her presence—me, especially.
But in the past few months, family dinners had become different. First there was Lucien, and I’d be the first to admit it had been an adjustment having him suddenly in the midst of what for all of us was a sacred event. A demon. A stranger. Some hot guy that Cassie was leading around by the nose and was a bit infatuated with. We’d never allowed boyfriends at Sunday dinner. We’d never allowed friends. Even when Cassie had been dating Marcus, and they’d been fairly serious at one point, he’d never been allowed to invade the sanctity of Sunday Family Dinner. Yet in less than a week of his appearance, Lucien was there, breaking bread with us as if he were family.
I wasn’t the only sister that had problems with his sudden inclusion, but I was the only sister who’d confronted Cassie about it. We’d had an emotion-laden, but productive conversation, and in the end, I’d realized that although their relationship seemed inexplicably sudden to me, it was a deep and forever connection as far as Cassie was concerned.
Just as I had lectured her about treating me like an adult and respecting my judgement on when I felt able to return to work and go back home, she’d done the same with me about her relationship with Lucien. Respect went two ways, and during our conversation, I’d realized I needed to accept what Cassie and my other sisters might call a significant relationship—one significant enough that the “other” should be considered family and included in our weekly dinners.
Lucien had been savvy enough to ease his way into the family. He’d been friendly and polite, sitting quietly during conversation until he felt welcome enough to contribute. He’d paved the way, and when Bronwyn had brought Hadur in, we’d welcomed him with open arms. Of course, part of that was because he’d rescued her from her wrecked truck and taken care of her. And Bronwyn, was…Bronwyn. She was feisty and funny, and she didn’t trust easily. The warm glow in her expression when she’d looked at Hadur had told us all we needed to know. If Bronwyn wanted to bring a warmonger to our family night dinner, then we’d eagerly accept him.
And Nash had been an easy-yes as well. He’d resurrected me when I’d died. And it was clear to anyone with eyes in their head that he adored Ophelia. Plus, Nash had the sort of calm, kind, gentle personality that made him welcome anywhere. Who would have thought a reaper could be so agreeable?
Three demons. Well, two demons and a reaper. It was a good thing Cassie had a giant dining room table that could accommodate our growing family.
Cassie was in the kitchen, kneading a huge quantity of ground beef in a big stainless-steel bowl. Beside her, Adrienne stood peeling potatoes and dropping them into a pot.
“I’m here early,” I announced. “What do you need me to do?”
“Addy could use some help with the potatoes,” Cassie instructed. “But first hand me that can of tomato sauce, please.”
Meatloaf. Most of us would have bought some pre-prepared stuff from the grocery store and shoved it in the oven, but Cassie was old enough to remember making meatloaf with our grandmother and she knew the recipe. Ground beef. Eggs. Spices. Tomato sauce. Onions. Peppers. And rice for some inexplicable reason. It was super tasty, and every bite reminded me of home and family.
“Can you open that second one so I can pour it over the top?” Cassie asked me.
I used the old-fashioned hand-cranked can opener, handed it to her, then put the eggs back in the fridge before joining Adrienne at the sink. Lucien came in before I’d gotten more than one potato peeled, walking over and giving Cassie a kiss that had Adrienne telling the pair of them to get a room.
“Thought you were going to miss tonight’s dinner,” I said to the demon. “Cassie mentioned there was some trouble in hell you were dealing with.”
Lucien made a growling noise and threw his hands upward. “I’m ready to blast the whole third circle into nothingness. What a bunch of boneheads.”
“If you do that, will there just be a hole in hell?” Adrienne asked.
“A hell-hole,” I teased.
Adrienne grinned. “Or maybe it would be a spot you need to jump over, where you tell the newly arrived ‘oh, that used to be the third circle, but we had to nuke it because they were dicks’?”
Cassie laughed. “Or like the thirteenth floor in some buildings? Hell will just skip from the second circle to the fourth, and if people ask about the third circle, you just shudder and tell them ‘it’s bad luck to have a third circle’?”
“Or maybe just name it something else, like circle two-and-a-half,” I joked. “’We don’t talk about the third circle, man. Nobody talks about the third circle.’”
“What’s going on anyway?” Adrienne asked. “I thought you guys had a pretty tight grip on things down there?”
“Instructions for the third circle went to the fifth instead, and a message that was supposed to be delivered two weeks ago just now got there.” Lucien shook his head. “Basically, Eshu screwed up, which he seems to do a lot.”
I hid a wince at Eshu’s name, bending my head to concentrate on the potatoes.
“So fire him,” Adrienne told him.
“I can’t.” Lucien shrugged. “No one can. He’s the only one who can be in both hell and heaven. He can go anywhere, talk to anyone. He doesn’t technically report to us, so there’s nothing we can do except complain about him—which does absolutely nothing.”
“I thought he was a demon?” Cassie looked at Lucien in surprise. “I thought he was a demon or an angel who had some sort of diplomatic immunity?”
Lucien wobbled his hand back and forth. “Technically, he’s neither. We’re the same—angels and demons. It’s just who we report to, our duties, and some after-the-fact traits that make us a tiny bit different. Eshu’s kind of like us, but not. And during the split when my father told my grandfather to get bent and headed out on his own, Eshu didn’t take sides.”
“So he’s Switzerland,” Adrienne commented.
