Page 117 of Dragon Her Heels

TWENTY-SEVEN

“I’m flattered you think I’m that much of a prize.”

I triumphed over Yuless, and to make it clear he was the one to be conquered, I took a few extra bites and put on a show of savoring every swallow. We’d both have leftovers, and a rather obscene amount of them, as the tomahawk steaks had come out thick, juicy, and generous enough we could have shared one and still had some for the road.

As walking out would not be an option, I disobeyed the Devil and sent him a text informing him we had been so gluttonous we couldn’t make it outside even if we wanted to. I warned him I still needed to cover the bill before we required rescue. Because victory was sweet, I informed him of my conquest over the tall, dark, and handsome I would be taking home with me and keeping.

The waiter returned, I handed over my credit card, requested boxes for our meal, and grinned at my date, who engaged the remainder of his meal in a staring contest.

Unsurprisingly, the steak won.

“How did you beat me? You had more of everything.”

Yes, I had. Technically, I could possibly fit another bite or two, but I would run the risk of becoming ill should I. The last thing I wanted to do involved throwing up the kind of meal worth writing home about. “I wanted to be the conqueror more than you.”

“Obviously. I’m flattered you think I’m that much of a prize. It’s all over if I have to walk more than ten feet.”

I snickered at that, and I waved my phone in his direction. “I’m abusing the Devil, so it’ll be fine.”

The waiter returned with the bill, and I added a thirty percent tip to the insane total before handing the signed merchant copy over. The boxes proved to be altered so the tomahawk bone could stick out. He also brought aluminum foil so the bones would be protected during transit.

Within a minute of the waiter departing, Lucifer popped into being in a flash of golden light. “You two,” he complained.

“I won the right to conquer him at my leisure, Lucy. Don’t complain too much. Just tell your wife I need pretty lingerie. I own practical lingerie. My conquests need to involve pretty lingerie.”

“That’s better. I’ll send her over tomorrow after you’ve recovered from your act of gluttony. I’m assuming you wish to return to your home, leaving me to handle your purchases at the show?”

We hadn’t even gotten to look through the horse catalog, which I didn’t mind in the slightest. “Make good decisions on my behalf,” I requested.

“I can do that. Once the sale is over, I’ll handle returning your truck and trailer. I will make certain someone responsible drives it and that insurance and all those other things are handled appropriately. I have taken the liberty of providing your new work vehicle, which is parked in your garage. I recommend that you safeguard it against the various critters that use your garage as a haven during storms.”

Right. The last thing I needed was for Mr. Magic to decide tires were a fun chew toy—or for the cats to use them as scratching posts. “Thank you, Lucifer. Can you make certain the animals are fed in the morning and Yuless makes it to work on time? I’m going to make the deliberate decision to sleep in.”

The Devil laughed. “Of course. I can handle that for you. Once Yuless is off to work and you’ve had a luxurious morning, my wife will invade and provide you with lingerie for your conquest.”

Excellent. “Prepare to be conquered tomorrow, Yuless.”

“I like the sound of this.”

In his shoes, I’d like the sound of my declaration, too. “Just someone get me up before my boss realizes I’m MIA. And if I refuse to get up, mark me in for a sick day. It’s been a while since I’ve taken one.”

“You haven’t taken one since you started working for him,” Lucifer stated. “I will report you’re taking a sick day tomorrow. For our peace of mind, are you going to be actually ill or do you need a mental break?”

“I need to sleep till one followed by waiting for my conquest to return from work so he can be conquered before I can then go back to bed. Put that in whatever category you deem fit. If I actually get sick, don’t mind the crying. You’d cry, too, if your planned conquest was cancelled due to vomit.”

“Good luck, Yuless. Let’s just hope she just wants a day off from punting her dragon across her lake.” Lucifer picked up the bag, careful of the bones before reaching out and seizing our wrists. “I’m even going to be kind and teleport you to your table so there’s zero chance of anyone falling.”

“You’re the best, Lucy,” I told him. “Just don’t tell all your brothers or your daddy I said that. You’ll hurt their feelings.”

* * *

My planned conquest was cancelled due to illness, though thankfully, there was no vomit involved with my malaise. However, a crashing headache, fever, chills, and most other symptoms of plague came calling, seized me by the throat, and made me its bitch. At some point, someone brought my kitties and my frizzle to visit me, which made being stuck in bed a little better. The kitties kept me warm, and Joy shared my pillow with me, making comforting clucking noises. Some form of magic kept my bedding clean, and I’d be grateful for that once I could attend to anything for longer than ten minutes before passing out.

All six of my attempts to get up had ended with me passing out somewhere, requiring a functional adult to get me back to bed. The first few times, Isaac had handled dragging me to bed, ignoring my protests over the floor being plenty comfortable. Realt took the next shift, and he did a better job of keeping me in bed, summoning Ashley to assist when I whined and wanted a bath so I could warm up.

If Ashley wasn’t available, Darlene made an appearance, and she had zero problems with joining me in my tub, which was spacious enough for even three without issue.

When I failed to conquer the contagion after two days, an archangel paid me a visit. I had no memory of what triggered me snapping, but one brawl, the acquisition of six primary feathers, and a dose of holy fire later, I stepped foot onto the road to recovery. The chills stayed, and according to Lucifer, I would remain that way for three or four more days.