Page 26 of Client from Hell

“It is simple. Lucifer would have had to do a conversion to save her. There would have been no pleasant choices for the conversion. No spicy ponies with bite, nothing with a kinder nature. He would have had to draw from the darkest pits of his many hells for a form for her. It would have destroyed everything she was and could be. She was too far gone for such a ploy to work. He needed to provide ambrosia for this method to work—or a seed. He works to give my brother a gift, although I suppose the gift is more for Darlene than it is for my brother—Lucifer wants Sandra for her, after all. Many good deeds have been done using this way—and this way is the kindest for young Sandra.”

Jonas heaved a sigh.

I spat a few curses at the archangel for subjecting me to torture. “Is this a sneak preview of the hell Lucifer is going to put me through once he figures out I torched his mini mansion?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. He will adore you more than he already does for that,” the archangel promised. “My brother is a sentimental creature, and he was aware of your struggles, your uncertainties, and your fears when he toyed with his little cupcake in that courthouse. You defied your emotions and did what was needed in his presence. That is no small feat. His presence is hard on mortals, and he is aware of how mortals react. You shouldered the burden of his presence far better than most, and he disgusted you. You did not fear him. He does not even suspect you are the one who held the grudge, although it will occur to him once he stops and thinks about it. He trusts Diana’s magic, and he allowed this to blind him. He will learn her magic is not without fault. In a way, you are His gift to Diana, too. You complement her. You have much you can teach each other, although I do not want to guess what you might summon should you learn Diana’s ways.”

Talking helped distract me from the pain eating away at my bones. “The incubus, to my bed each night.”

“You will not need to work much in the way of magic to accomplish that goal. You just need to call him, text him, or holler where he might hear. He will come for his evening dessert without hesitation.”

“Hey, I classify as dessert, Jonas. Does that mean I’ll be terrible for your health and prone to add pounds to your waistline?” I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “Why do these things always go for my fucking bones? The virus attacked my bones, too. But the doctors drugged me to hell and back to control the pain. I now recognize how well those drugs worked. Fuck!”

“It is the heart of your cancer,” the archangel explained. “Your bones were damaged beyond what modern medicine can heal, and the potion is rebuilding what you have lost. When it is done, you will begin producing blood on your own again. This is a good thing. The pain won’t last for much longer. Carry the burden the best you can, and no one here but you will judge you should you faint.”

“I guess that would explain why I needed so many units. Not producing my own blood while my virus is gobbling my blood to heal everything else would be problematic.”

“Yes, indeed. There. The pain should be easing some by now, yes?”

I considered the burn deep within, and after some contemplation, I nodded. “It isn’t pleasant, that’s for certain. I no longer have an urge to try to strangle you, however.”

“For which I am grateful.”

Jonas grunted, and he sat near my hospital bed, crossed his arms, and grunted again.

“Why are you upset, Jonas?”

“He’s upset because incubi are empaths, and you’re undergoing a lot of pain. He’s aware of it, and he doesn’t like what I’m doing to you, but he understands the necessity of it. You should see him when his sister is distressed. Despite his many flaws, he has learned to be rather compassionate, although his compassion tends to be limited to those he is interested in. Your offer of sustenance is only a facet of his interest. He appreciates tough women, and it takes a tough woman to deceive the Lord of Lies.”

“I’m pretty sure I was mentally unstable when I decided to torch his house,” I admitted.

“Well, the cancer had done significant damage to important parts of your brain, hampering your ability to make sound decisions. Your decision had some merit, however. You hoped for mercy, which he would have given you. Alas, your plan has backfired, and you will be burdened with my brother’s adoration for a disturbing period of time.”

“I’m thinking about kidnapping you and running far away. I can still be your bed buddy even when we’re running away from Lucifer and his general insanity,” Jonas muttered.

“Do not mind Jonas,” the archangel advised. “Lucifer has been attempting to mold him since his conversion, and while some elements of Lucifer’s plans have worked, others have not. He is weary and hungry, as Lucifer will only provide should his health begin to fail. His health is not to that point yet, so do not worry. Making him wait to enjoy your company would not bring harm, and it might teach him patience.” The archangel shrugged, a rather disconcerting sight thanks to Camael’s lack of a head. “It might take a miracle to teach him good manners, so I will wish the best of luck to you on that front. It is a most excellent thing you enjoy challenges. He will be one of your tougher challenges in life.”

“But will he send me to bed satisfied most nights, and will he tuck me in?”

“Absolutely. He will even do things like bring you breakfast in bed, especially if he thinks you are unwell. You will enjoy a great deal of pampering in the near future, for you will be unwell for quite some time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How viable is his kidnapping plan?”

“He would run and take you with him, and Lucifer would chase because the game intrigues him. You would be wise to do the errands Lucifer listed out. They have an important purpose.”

“Right. Errands first, kidnapping or fleeing second. How long will this torture session last?”

“For you, approximately five more minutes, after which I will hit you with holy fire, which will result in your abandonment of consciousness. Things will be better when you awaken, that much I can promise you. Things will be different for you, but they will be better.”

“Show me what you’ve got, Camael.”

Seven

It doesn’t hurt.

The silence startled me awake. Over the weeks since my hospitalization, I’d grown used to the constant sounds. The machines buzzed and beeped. The nurse’s feet pattered in the hallway. Murmurs of conversation outside my door exposed when the staff discussed my fate in hushed tones. None of those sounds, comforting in their regularity, disturbed the peace.

It’d been long enough since I’d enjoyed any form of peace I waited, my body tense, for the truth to reveal itself. In the hospital, the pain often came on the heels of the quiet moments right after waking up.