Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Sinners and Saints: Flip Side of Sin
Rosalie Stanton
Excerpt
Chapter One
About fucking time.
Eternity might be forever, but that didn’t mean it had to be boring. Granted, Ira got bored easily, even if Lucifer typically did a good job keeping him occupied. Send a little homicidal rage over here, gnaw on someone’s last nerve over there, and essentially make the shit-stain that was humanity squirm like they’d never squirmed before. Ira considered himself an artist in many regards—a good, long, deep-burning anger was a masterpiece in the making. His own personal house of cards never fell the same way.
The fall was all that mattered—the payoff, while sweet, was often too brief to truly enjoy.
Yet for the past few months, his schedule had been painfully open. First with his baby sister Ava and her fling with the vamp, then with Luxi, who’d gone and fallen in love with a fucking pastor, of all things disgraceful. Why all of Hell had to come to a standstill to appease the womenfolk was beyond anyone’s guess, but Ira had mastered the part of him prone to violent outbursts. At least where the bossman was concerned.
Ira favored Lucifer with a grin and sat back in his seat. The devil’s office currently resembled the Oval Office, as it had ever since the United States had become the most powerful nation on the planet. Hell’s primary building of operations had a tendency to morph into whatever human-built dwelling currently held the most prestige on Earth. Personally, Ira missed the days of Roman architecture—genuine Roman architecture, not the more modern rip-offs.
Though it didn’t matter what the office looked like—he was just glad to be back in it.
“First day back on the job,” Ira said, fishing a pack of cigs from his pocket. “Whatcha got for me, oh fearless leader? Or can I put in an order?”
Lucifer smiled thinly, folded his hands and rested them on the desk. “We’re waiting for the others.”
“What others?”
“Your sisters and Grayson.”
Ira frowned. “The preacher? What the fuck’s a preacher got to do with my assignment?”
“Well for starters, it’s his assignment too. Not only is greed called for, but seeing as he hasn’t clocked any fieldwork yet, I thought it might be best if he be accompanied until he gets the swing of things.”
Ira rolled his eyes so hard his head went with them. “Fucking kill me now.”
“I would, but then I’d have to replace you, and that would just leave more work for me.” Lucifer smirked and looked to the office doorway. “Ah, ladies, just in time. And Grayson.”
Ira snickered, his gaze glued to Joe Camel. “Ladies,” he muttered. Nothing he had seen of the newest Sin had convinced him that the man possessed a dick, much less a set of balls.
“We all got your Bat signal,” Luxi drawled, plopping into the chair beside Ira with a patented toss of her wavy brown hair. Her cheeks had that flushed look about them—the sort that screamed she and lover-boy had just been interrupted doing something disgusting. “You takin’ the leash off?”
“There is a matter of interest I’d like to address,” Lucifer agreed, motioning to Invi and Grayson. “Please, have a seat.”
Once everyone was accommodated, the devil called for Fugie, who wheeled in an old-school overhead projector then quickly left again. Lucifer dimmed the lights, produced a folder full of slides, and began like an old economics professor.
“This”—he slipped an eight by eleven sheet onto the platform. The image shone on the wall behind him was of a middle-aged, slightly portly white man, posing in a studio beside an American flag—“is Senator Frank Rockland… Yes, Reverend Bailey? Questions already?”
Ira cast a bored glance to his left as he slid a cigarette from the pack. Grayson, whose slick dark hair looked so polished he might as well have bathed it in gel, had his hand in the air.
“I gotta ask,” the former human said, “do all our assignments revolve around political figures?”
Lucifer blinked. “Many do, yes. They hold the power.”
“But—”
“Your case was a special circumstance. May I proceed?”
Grayson’s hand fell slowly back to his side. “Yes.”
“Thank you.”
Ira shifted in his seat and produced a lick of flame from the tip of his index finger to light his cigarette. His sister’s beau, the good Reverend Bailey, had been a human up until a few weeks ago, when a gunman at a political rally had put a bullet between his eyes. Lucifer had decided to fill the vacant seat among the Seven Deadly Sins with Grayson’s soul… Or whatever had become of it after Luxi had struck his name from the Registration. To say that the newcomer was a pain in the ass was being a tad generous. Ira didn’t take well to change, especially since the shift in the family dynamic had left him with a new so-called brother he had to get along with. He barely liked the brothers he already claimed.
Truthfully, there had to be something in the water. It seemed too damn coincidental that Ava had resigned just weeks before Luxi had found her eternal bedmate. The notion of Luxi—lust incarnate—being banned from any bed save the preacher’s would take a couple of centuries to get used to. Of course, Luxi’s bedroom door hadn’t revolved so frequently as of late, and Ira had honestly figured it to be a mid-millennia slump. Never had he thought that she, of all his sisters, would get her fidelity on with a human. Or former human. Or whatever.
To what degree Invi remained sympathetic was likewise in the air. Ira had always been closer to his youngest sister—their temperaments complemented one another’s, and she didn’t whine nearly as much as their other siblings. Yet something had happened between Ava’s departure and now. Ira knew Invi had been involved somehow in Luxi’s raid on the main library, as well as its irritable curator, Pixley. During their last romp, Pixley hadn’t been able to shut up for three minutes about what had gone down the day of Grayson’s liberation. A turn-off, admittedly, but everything else the naughty librarian did more than made up for it.
“Senator Rockland,” continued the devil, “is running for president.”
“Mucho surprise-o,” Invi drawled.
Ira took a hit off his cigarette and flashed her a grin.
Lucifer didn’t look amused. “Comments from the peanut gallery are not encouraged.”
“Sorry.”
“Damn straight you’re sorry.” The Hell King sighed and shook his head as though the lot of them weren’t worth his time, then continued, “Senator Rockland is a native to Nevada, and an embarrassment to your party, Reverend. No offense, of course.”
Grayson shrugged. “Most politicians are an embarrassment to their party. I’ve never been a Rockland supporter.”
Lucifer nodded. “Glad to hear it. As it is, Rockland is expected in our very own Sin City over the upcoming holiday weekend to convene with campaign financiers and other men with vast amounts of disposable income.”
“What’s wrong?” It was Grayson again, and the question wasn’t aimed at the devil. He was looking at Luxi, whose face had contorted into a tight grimace. Her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed, and her teeth were somewhat bared.
“Rockland,” she spat.
Lucifer nodded and offered a flat grin. “Yes, my dear. The very one and the same.”
“You know Rockland?” Grayson asked.
Invi’s blonde head whipped up fast. “Oh! That guy!”
“Hush!” Luxi snapped.
“What?” Ira said loudly. He flicked a good amount of ash onto the ground, ignoring Lucifer’s scowl. “You bone the guy or something?”
Luxi fired him an if-looks-could-kill glare, which only confirmed his suspicion. The meeting then took a turn for the interesting.
“Yes,” Lucifer said. “I told you I had plans for Senator Rockland when I issued that particular assignment. That time has come.”
“Any reason the time has come now?” she demanded.
Grayson looked forlorn. “You slept with that guy?”
“I assure you, it was well before I sent her to you,” the devil said. From the look of things, the newest Sin didn’t find it very reassuring. His disapproval, however, did little to slow down Lucifer. “Nevertheless, I have saved the winnings from that assignment—”
“The pictures.” Luxi growled the words.
Grayson’s face was turning red. “There are pictures?”
“Rather crude ones, if memory serves,” Lucifer agreed.
Luxi sighed loudly. “There aren’t words for how much I hate you right now.”
“Oh, lighten up,” Ira said. “It’s not like the new guy doesn’t know what you were. Seeing as you lovebirds have been together about eight seconds and Lux has two thousand years on Gracie—”
“Grayson,” the couple corrected together.
“Whatever. The last couple centuries have been ripe with technology, and as they say, the proof is in the pudding. Nowadays you can’t even snap a photo without people screaming it’s a fake.” Ira puffed on his cig and nodded to Lucifer. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” said the devil dryly. “Thank you for making my point for me. One wonders what one would do without you.”
“Yes,” Ira agreed in the same tone. “One does wonder.”
Lucifer turned back to the overhead projector. “I won’t show the photos out of consideration. We do, however, have them for just such an occasion. Rockland is the most likely candidate to be the frontrunner of his party, and since a Rockland presidency would make me a very unhappy devil, we’re going to try and kill the campaign before it goes anywhere.”
“Using Luxi’s photos,” Grayson said, the hard lines of his face wound tight.
“Luxuria’s photos aren’t the smoking gun,” Lucifer replied. “I rather intend the smoking gun to be a smoking gun.”
Ira frowned. “Is that code?”
“Rockland’s campaign is in the damaged hands of Ernest Wiseman.” A change of the slides revealed a slightly older man with thinner cheeks and empty eyes. “Mr. Wiseman is a Washington operative. He—”
“He’s a heartless bastard,” Grayson announced, his expression turning steely. “A really vicious son of a bitch. John, who was running my campaign, said the rumors flying around the Capitol about this prick were scary to the point of Freddy Kruger Goes to Washington.”
Lucifer sighed. “All right, kiddies. Do we need to go over the rules again? What happens when I’m talking?”
“The rest of us don’t,” Invi supplied.
“That’s right,” said the devil.
Grayson grumbled and shifted further into his seat. “Sorry.”
“Regardless, the reverend is most correct in his assessment of Mr. Wiseman’s ass-ery.” Lucifer folded his arms. “Over his colorful career, Wiseman has accepted bribes, physically threatened his opposition, beaten his wife, caused the death of a prostitute, swindled millions out of campaign financiers—and those have been his good days.”
Ira glanced to Grayson, who sat slack-jawed. “I,” said the former human, “I…didn’t know about all that.”
Lucifer smiled. “That’s because we didn’t want you to. Until now.”
“That’s a lot to cover up.”
“Our resources are pretty endless.” The devil’s grin tightened. “The four of you will be sent to Las Vegas. Luxuria, you will approach Mr. Wiseman and remind him of who you are and how you know the Senator.”
Grayson huffed.
“No worries,” Lucifer continued. “She is not to bed anyone on this trip.”
“Or any other trip,” said Luxi. “I’ll influence the fuck outta whoever you want me to influence the fuck out of, but I’m not being stuck by anyone’s prick but Grayson’s.”
“Yes,” drawled the devil. “I do remember that stipulation, seeing as I suggested it.”
She smacked her ruby lips. “Just double-checking.”
Lucifer sighed again. “Invidia and Grayson will influence Mr. Wiseman, very steadily, with envy and greed. Ira’s the finishing touch.”
Ira’s brows flickered, a smile tickling his lips. “Save the best for last,” he said, snuffing the remainder of his cigarette against his palm. “We offin’ the prick?”
The devil shook his head. “No. We are going to encourage him to off someone else. He will be coaxed to a slow rage under the threat of political blackmail, and take out his frustration on a human girl he mistakes for Luxuria.”
“Oooh,” Ira cooed. “Even better.”
“What?” Grayson demanded. “You mean… We’re going to kill someone? An innocent someone?”
Luxi snickered. “Innocent someone? Sorry, sweetie, but there’s no such animal.”
“We can’t just go around taking lives,” Grayson argued.
“Why not?” Lucifer asked.
The former reverend’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “Because it’s wrong!”
Ira snorted. “Right and wrong. Such human concepts. Thought they sucked the human outta you.”
“Apparently not,” Grayson grumbled. “Why not just make him believe he has killed? He can ‘kill’ Luxi, and she—”
“Isn’t human,” the devil supplied. “She doesn’t have a name, a social security card, a family, or anything to link her to Earth.”
“She did when she worked for me. We had to vet her. I know John would’ve done anything to keep her away from me, so if something didn’t check out, he would’ve shown her the door.”
Luxi sighed. “Ah. I miss John.”
“I do too.” Grayson’s tone was more sincere. “Not because of how he treated… Just, I miss him. He was a good friend.”
Lucifer offered a quasi-sympathetic smile. “Nonetheless, that was then, this is now, and we’re doing things my way. Believe me, Reverend. This isn’t my first time.”
The preacher crossed his arms and pouted like a toddler. “It’s just not right.”
Invi scoffed. “You live in Hell, you know.”
“I just didn’t expect it to be so…”
“Hellish?” Luxi offered.
He nodded, looking very haughty about it. “For lack of a better word, yes.”
“I hate to break it to you, but this is sort of the way things work down here.” The devil arched an eyebrow. “If it makes you feel better, the person sacrificed won’t be one Jev has any inclination to deny entry to, and what comes after will be much nicer for them than life on Earth. Human souls are immortal, Grayson. All your first life’s good for is an audition to see where you’ll spend your second, and that’s the one that matters.”
Grayson slumped back in his seat, looking as though someone had just provided concrete evidence for OJ’s innocence.
Apparently satisfied, Lucifer switched off the overhead projector. “Now,” he said. “Any other questions?”
Luxi’s hand shot into the air. “This isn’t some secret mission to get one of us to resign, is it? ’Cause that didn’t go so hot the last time.”
“Rest assured,” the boss replied, “whatever deal Jev and I forged has been nullified. We’re going back to basics.”
“Thank Christ,” Ira said, his head rolling back.