13 Fruitbat and Nearamir

Lily

Lily had snapped when the third evil shithead, this time a perpetrator of genocide, had come through her line. Arguably the worst yet, and absolutely the most arrogant, she’d decided to revoke his teeth privileges with extreme prejudice. A swing of her bat and they littered the floor, but that wasn’t enough for this asshole. One of the great perks of the solid desk, she’d discovered, was the ability to leap onto and over it and not have to go around for fear of knocking it over.

She let the images the file had shown her fuel her strikes. Begging, crying, children screaming, gunshots— she wound up for a World Cup–worthy kick that would have thrown her back out for a week if she’d still been alive.

Worth it.

So she did it again.

Hands, he didn’t need those. She’d seen the atrocities he’d enacted, the lives he’d signed away with those hands—

Something—or someone—large loomed at the edge of her vision, Krun probably, to help or drag the soul away.

She glanced up and did a double take.

Holy fuck.

It was not Krun.

His skin was a deep shade of purple gray, and he had to be at least seven feet tall and powerfully built. His sleeveless, gray, athletic-style tunic showcased arms thick with muscle, and stretched over a broad chest. She had a sense that every inch of him was solid, functional muscle—none of that “muscles for appearances only” nonsense. Bat-like wings tipped with a black talon at each apex poked over his broad shoulders. Long, inky-black hair gleamed in the warm light, pulled half back and cascading past his shoulders, framing his ruggedly handsome face.

His features were rough-hewn. His nearly straight nose had a small bump in it, probably from being broken a time or two, and his jawline was clean, save for a pair of dull little spikes on his square chin, like a little demonic goatee. He looked to be in his early to midthirties, though given the immortality of demons, he was likely far older than that.

Black, goatlike horns the size of her hand added to his impressive height, arcing up and backwards in a smooth curve. A scar sliced through one of his thick eyebrows, making him look even sexier and more dangerous, sending a bolt of awareness between her thighs.

His eyes… Her breath caught. Black sclera, a less common trait that she’d noticed, offset his silvery irises. Unusual, beautiful eyes. And they were fixed on her.

The soul at her feet, the thousands of souls shuffling by, along with all the other demons, ceased to matter.

He was…incredible.

He hadn’t spoken, but something in the way he carried himself, in the expression in his glorious eyes, radiated safety. Kindness. Steadiness.

He opened his mouth, then closed it and swallowed hard before holding his hand out, offering her a beautiful short sword.

She took the weapon, resting the sheathed blade against her shoulder, and smiled up at him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

The handsome demon’s answering smile warmed her skin like a beam of sunlight on a spring day. She sucked in a deep, oddly satisfying breath, as if it was the first full breath she’d taken in a long time.

“Hi,” she said, watching those unusual, glittering eyes crinkle a little in the corners with his smile. He seemed to be watching her just as closely.

“Hi.” His deep voice rumbled, familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place until he continued, sounding slightly awed. “You have great form.”

The Universe seemed to still around them.

“Holy shit, FruitBat ?”

His rugged features slackened. He blinked once. Twice. “Nerd wife?!”

She nodded as he loosed a booming laugh, hopping excitedly, wings flaring a bit. Lily laughed so hard and so free that something in her silent, hollow chest sparked.

She opened her arms to her nerd hubby.

His hug lifted her feet effortlessly off the ground, his body solid and warm and practically thrumming with excitement. She threw her arms around his neck, gripping his heavy shoulders a little tighter so that she wouldn’t brush his wings and trying not to whack him with the sheathed sword. She’d read enough fantasy and monster romances to be overly cautious about the potential sensitivity of wings.

“Look at you, Nearamir, kicking ass in real life and online!” he said gleefully, his voice— the voice—rumbling through his chest and into her bones.

Stop. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

He set her down with more care than she’d expected, large hands settling on her shoulders as he beamed down at her with that glorious smile.

“Aw.” She chuckled, reaching up to squeeze a thick wrist affectionately. “You caught me on a good day. What are you doing here—wait, shit, I don’t even know your real name! I’m Lily.” She held out her hand, thoughts spinning at a million miles an hour.

He ran a hand down his face and grimaced. “Oh, yeah, we kinda skipped that part, didn’t we? I’m Beleth, but everyone just calls me Bel.” His hand dwarfed hers, his palm warm and callused, his grip firm but not crushing. “Nice to meet you officially, Lily.”

“Nice to meet you too, Bel.” She couldn’t stop smiling and couldn’t bring herself to care about it. He was as ridiculously attractive as his voice, but that wasn’t what mattered. He was here. Her friend. As his hand lingered in hers, a knot seemed to ease in her soul, one that she hadn’t been aware of until that moment. “Do you like coffee?”

* * *

Lily yelled to Moura that she was shutting the desk down for a bit, leaving the bloody remains of the soul moaning on the floor and taking the arm Bel offered her as they headed towards the Universal Hallway.

She had experienced that kind of instant connection only once or twice before when she’d met some of her best friends. Something on some deep level had told her that, whoever they were, in some way, they were going to be important to her.

Bel felt important.

Their conversation flowed easily and nonstop, save for breaking down in peals of laughter every so often. Apparently, they’d both frequented Seven Deadly for some of the same events, and had probably missed running into each other half a dozen times. He told her about a bar on one of the lower residential levels that was one of his favorites, mostly because it hosted a weekly trivia night.

“Though,” he said conspiratorially, “if you want the best trivia night in the Afterlife, Luckyleaf, the Irish pub over by Tír na nóg is hands-down the winner. It’s a massive place, but during monthly trivia it gets packed .”

“I love trivia!” Lily exclaimed, mind already whirring with the possibilities presented by a trivia night run by immortals and souls. “I think it’s a side effect of reading so much.”

“It’s also a nerd thing, and we’re always trying to curate the best team for the theme. We get pretty competitive about it on the Admin Level.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a full-fledged nerd,” Lily mused.

Bel’s eyes gleamed wickedly, mouth opening before he bit his lips, cheeks staining a deeper shade.

Her breath caught, utterly distracted by that wicked gleam, before shoving the feeling aside. What had she said again?

Pegged…

Well, shit.

Lily covered her hot face with a hand, groaning. “I sure opened the door for that one.”

“One? There were so many options for that.” Bel laughed, easing the tension enough for her to chuckle too.

“Sorry,” he said a moment later. “I, uh, have a penchant for dirty humor.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Lily sighed, squeezing his arm. “I do too, so please don’t hold back on my account. I’ll probably think it’s funny as hell. Literally.”

His eyes twinkled, the faint creases at their corners deepening.

She continued. “Actually, when I met Persephone for the first time, I might have accidentally told her a sex joke within, like, two minutes.”

A deep laugh burst out of Bel, making a cluster of people nearby jump in surprise, their eyes raking warily over the horns, the wings, the powerful frame. Their skepticism rankled her, so she smiled at Bel while shooting them a challenging look.

“You have a friend forever in her now. She loves filthy humor,” Bel informed her, guiding her around a glowing wisp the size of a car. “She’s sweet, and good for Hades. They’re good for each other really.”

“You know them well?” she asked, trying not to sound too incredulous.

“Oh yeah. Hades is an old friend of mine. He lets us train in the Underworld sometimes, and he and Persephone always host great parties. If you get an invite, go. It’s worth it.”

Lily cocked her head. “Train? So you’re a part of the armies?”

A hint of tension crept into his expression, and the arm that she still held. “Ah, yes. A general actually. Eighty-five legions.”

Oh.

It explained a lot—the steadiness, the sense of reliability, his powerful build and the athletic way he moved, the calluses on his hands, and the scar on his face. He still smiled, but the warm, crinkly lines by his eyes were gone, replaced by a slight furrow between his thick eyebrows.

“I told a sex joke to a goddess,” she reminded him, “so if you’re worried about me being all deferential, I promise you that’s not going to be a problem.”

Bel stopped walking again and gawked at her, blinking for several seconds. She shrugged and smiled.

Please don’t let my mouth get me into trouble again. I don’t want to lose a not-online friend so soon.

He cleared his throat, furrow between his brows disappearing as a smile teased the corners of his mouth. “You’ve also told the master of Level Nine, as well as the goddess Hel, to go fuck themselves during a game. Separate occasions.”

It was Lily’s turn to blink. She had ?

Warmth enveloped the hand she had on his arm, his other hand covering hers. She dimly registered that his nails weren’t just painted black, they were simply naturally black and tipped with points. Claws. They were claws.

“I don’t know why I ever worried,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling again.

Old insecurities twisted their way free of the mental cage she’d shoved them in.

He’s a freaking general, and I’m just a retail worker. He’s so kind, and I’m not…

Batting them back into the shadows was easier than it had been before. She was doing a job that no one else had thought to do, and she was good at it, even if she sometimes worried that she was too good at it. She had friends, more friends than she’d ever had in her lifetime. She had faced down some of the worst kinds of monsters ever produced by the mortal world, and made them cower.

Bel was a friend, and he didn’t seem to care about all that. He guided the conversation back towards her and her work.

As they joined the line at Common Grounds, Lily explained how she’d started working in Hell, with Bel listening intently.

“I really like the new desk,” she said eventually. “It feels more…professional. Like I actually belong there, instead of just being temporary, like I’ve always been before.”

Jobs, apartments, romantic relationships, life…

Bel covered her hand with his again, shaking his head in wonder. “Nothing about you feels temporary.”

Lily ducked her head with a smile, grateful her hair covered her burning ears. “Thank you,” she murmured. “So, are things still tense with Heaven? It seems like the army is a big deal in Hell.”

Bel tilted his head. “No and yes. I mean, yes, the armies are large, and an integral part of Hell. We’re one of the primary fighting forces in the Afterlife, but it’s not because of Heaven. We’re on good terms with them and everyone else now, and have been for a very long time. No, the primary source of potential trouble is other Universes. Most of them are chill, but the others…” Shadows flickered across his expression, his silvery eyes going distant.

Lily tried to remain nonchalant, but she studied him. She’d had friends who had served, and she’d seen that look before. The toll of combat carved itself into the bones of those who had seen it.

He shook himself out of his reverie. “Others are the reason we train so hard. They’re more of a deadly annoyance than anything else at the moment.”

Deadly?

“You can die?” she asked.

He met her gaze, nodding. “Souls regenerate, though not without cost, and they have more limitations on what they can do. As beings of the Afterlife, the rules are different for us. We are born, grow up, and live pretty much indefinitely unless we are killed or”—he cleared his throat—“or if we choose to go to the Void. If we die, our souls become part of the fabric of the Universe, which is why we all cherish and respect our surroundings so much. We have lives and families, like living mortals, just on a longer timescale than in the mortal world. But all that to say: Yes, we can die.”

Lily had known about the denizens and their lives, but the limited reading she’d done hadn’t mentioned dying. It had mentioned that souls couldn’t have children. Souls formed new partnerships all the time, but reproduction was for the living. She could understand and respect that, but it hadn’t stopped a pang from shooting through her chest. The pain of that moment paled in comparison to the stomach-twisting horror of Bel’s words.

Demons can die.

“Well, as a favor to a new friend, try not to die anytime soon, okay?” she said lightly, or tried to.

Bel’s smile was impish. “No promises, but I’ll give it a go. On a lighter note, what’s your Paradise like?”

“It’s straight out of a fantasy novel.” Lily grinned, happy for the new topic. “There’s this cool little village with tons of stuff to do, and the mountains are stunning. My house is the best part, though. Not only does it have the most amazing round door, it’s got the coolest fucking library, you have no idea!”

“A round door? Like in Lord of the Rings ?” Bel lit up like a firework. “Not only do you live in a literal fantasy land, you have a hobbit door ? Tell me everything! Does it have Gandalf’s mark on it? Is it green? Do you even like green?”

“I like green, but my door is purple,” Lily rushed on, practically fizzing with excitement. “I thought you just liked Lord of the Rings , not that you were huge fan of it!”

“Please,” Bel scoffed, the effect ruined by his thousand-watt grin. “You didn’t think I knew that many of those jokes and was just casual about it? What else do you read? I like a lot of fantasy, but sci-fi has some great stuff too…”

Bel

The barista had to physically wave a hand between them to get their attention. They each gave their orders, then shuffled off to the side to resume their animated conversation. At the mention of books, Lily lit up.

It was a glorious sight, and also a problem. If Bel had had a hard time keeping his eyes off her before, it had become damn near impossible once that lighter-than-air smile had taken over her features and made his heart kick in his chest.

Beautiful. She was beautiful.

She smirked to herself halfway through detailing a disastrous book-to-movie adaptation she’d seen, and his attention snagged on her lips.

His skin heated, and he pushed back the swell of long-forgotten desire. He cut his eyes back up to hers, thankful she hadn’t seemed to notice.

He had other pretty friends. Not pretty like her, but he was friends with Angel, a succubus , for Universe’s sake. It would be fine. He could be normal. Totally normal. Just Bel.

They found a table with stools instead of chairs and settled across from each other. The little line between her eyebrows disappeared when she sipped her coffee, the corner of her pretty mouth tipping upwards.

“Still the best coffee I’ve ever had, and where I’m from, being a coffee snob is practically a requirement,” she said.

“Oh? Where?”

“How familiar are you with mortal geography? Like, the United States?”

“Familiar enough, but I don’t think I could name a lot of the states.”

“Gotcha. I’m from the Pacific Northwest, it’s beautiful, but known for getting a lot of rain. All that seasonal depression and cool weather is best handled with lots of coffee.” She cradled the cup in both hands. “Are you much of a coffee guy, or is this a treat for you?”

“I’m typically a tea guy, but I get coffee once or twice a week, depending on what’s going on. If you don’t mind my asking, what was your mortal life like?”

A lifetime of gauging opponents’ minute movements, of reading the tiny expressions in combat or conversation, made the shift obvious. A darkness flitting across those bright eyes, the barest stiffening of her posture, the tiny instinctual intake of breath, lips tightening ever so slightly.

He could practically feel the walls she pulled up around herself, and he didn’t believe the practiced smile she shot his way, nor the too casual shrug, for a second.

Pain. That was old pain in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine. That’s what friends do, right? Ask about each other’s lives? It’s a valid question. I was pretty inconsequential in my mortal life. Worked. Paid my bills. Got through it, just like everyone else.” Her tone had the hint of an edge to it. Like a naked blade, benign until it had to be put to use. “How about you? Did you always want to be a general?”

He watched her for a moment, keeping his demeanor nonchalant and calm. “Yes and no. I always aspired to be worthy of a command position, not necessarily a general. I went to school like everyone else, but I’ve been training to fight since I could walk. It’s kinda my thing.” He pretended to flick his hair over his shoulder and preen. She snorted, the threads of tension slipping away into nothing. “I’ve always been pretty busy with the armies.”

“Training?”

He nodded, sipping his coffee. “Always. And patrols, and assignments, and paperwork. And a battle or war, when we don’t have a choice, though thankfully we haven’t had a major war since I became a general.”

“So, only a little on your plate, then.”

He laughed. “But outside of that, I like spending time with my friends, and apparently getting my ass kicked in Invaders .”

She laughed outright. “You and me both. Do you have any idea who Stabby is?”

“That would be Gregorith. He’s my best friend, has been since we were little. He never really gamed much, but he latched onto Invaders when it came out and has been wiping the floor with pretty much all of us ever since, the bastard. He’s also the one who runs Level Nine.”

It was always a little odd to refer to Greg by his full name, but he introduced himself to people as Gregorith, and had once corrected someone who had heard someone else call him Greg. Ever since then, Bel had made a point to only refer to him as Greg in front of people who knew him as such.

“Oh, he’s the one who runs Level Nine. I feel slightly bad for telling him to fuck himself with a cactus now.”

“Still bitter about that game he had a triple kill?”

Lily growled into her coffee. “Aren’t you?”

“He tried to win me back over with a pie.”

“And?”

“Well,” Bel said conspiratorially, thrilled when Lily leaned in slightly, “in battle, it is very helpful to know your opponent. Sadly, Gregorith knows that I have a weakness for his mom’s blackberry pie.”

Lily gasped theatrically, placing a hand on her chest. “Oh no, you traitor .”

“I would do terrible things for one of Morgen’s blackberry pies. Apparently including forgiving Gregorith for that heinous display of violence and manipulation.”

“Well, I didn’t get a piece of pie. Permission to continue grousing at your friend for being a little too good at Invaders , General?”

Her playful tone had him swallowing hard. Fuuuck. Pull it together and don’t make it weird, you jackass.

“Permission enthusiastically granted. Tell you what, you sass the shit out of him, and I’ll think it’s hilarious and share the next pie. Win-win for both of us.”

She grinned. “Tricky. I like it. You have a deal.”

They tapped their coffee cups together and took a drink.

* * *

As they walked back, Bel listened as Lily described a bonfire party in her Paradise that had spiraled quickly into a mead-fueled “who can slide down the mud hill the fastest” competition. She was a vivid storyteller, with a wry comedic timing that had him threatening to spew coffee out of his nose more than once.

As Lily spoke, every fiber of his being sat up and took notice of this mortal soul with a certain incandescence about her. It came in flashes, that brightness. Like it slipped out when she wasn’t paying attention, or her guard was down. Authenticity. That’s what he suspected it was. The moments that she seemed to light up were Lily unfiltered, but, for some reason, she kept a lock on it. He itched to find out why. To understand it, understand her, to let himself bask in the brilliance of her.

Lily.

He dimly wondered if Lucifer had hoped for this and almost instantly realized he didn’t give a damn. It didn’t matter how he’d gotten to meet Lily, only that he had. She was bright and witty and sharp and sarcastic and lovely, even more so in person than online. She carried a pain within her, though, some discordant note in her song, and it only made him want to know her more.

He’d meant it when he’d told her that she didn’t feel temporary. Not only did she move through Hell and the Afterlife like she’d been born to it, but it felt like they’d been friends for years. He wanted to just be around her.

They sauntered down the staircase to Hell while he told her about the time, as teenagers, he and Asmodeus had tried to steal a piece of a pie cooling on Morgen’s windowsill, and Greg had nailed them with his sister’s crafting glitter from an upstairs window.

“I swear I still find glitter from it. I was cleaning my armor the other day, and I have no idea how it got there, but there was a speck of blue glitter in the seam of my vambrace. Sure, it might have been from something else, but I’m doomed to wonder.” He smiled, the bracelets around his wrist leaping to the forefront of his mind.

“It’s been how many years?” Lily laughed.

Bel puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. “Three hundred in Afterlife years, give or take?”

“That tracks for glitter. Hell, I’m dead and I’m pretty sure in the shower yesterday I found remnants of the body glitter I used back in college.”

His knee-jerk reaction to wonder about the “body glitter” and “shower” parts of her statement was violently overridden by the pang that shot through his chest. He’d known obliquely, but the full implication of it had finally sunk in.

Dead. Lily was dead .

She’d had a life. She’d been a whole, living person, had seen and experienced things in the mortal world that he couldn’t hope to ever see or experience. Now she was dead. A mortal soul in the Afterlife like so many others. Everyone had a family, and families could be fucking complicated, but had she loved hers? What about her friends? Did she miss them? Miss them like he missed—

He shut that thought down hard, just like he always did.

Maybe that was part of her guardedness. That pain he’d seen in her eyes…maybe she was grieving the life she’d left behind.

Thankfully, their conversation had lapsed enough that his quiet realization went unnoticed. The last few steps out of the tunnel and into the open air of the gate spurred him back into action. A line of souls already waited at her desk. A few quailed and scurried back to the main line as Bel approached the desk beside her.

Bel touched her arm. “It’s trivia night tomorrow at Luckyleaf. Would you like to be on our team? You can meet my fathead cousin, Asmodeus, and his cool wife, Sariah. Then it’s just me, Lucifer, Thanatos, Ishtar, and Chesma. I can introduce you to Gregorith and Angel, and some of the other people you’ve gamed with, but they’re on different trivia teams.”

Lily’s eyes gleamed. Without looking away from him, she flipped off a soul who was waving their hand and snapping for her attention.

“I would love to! I might not be much of an asset, but I’m so there.” She jerked her head toward the line of souls and shot him a rueful smile. “It’s my incentive to stay sane until then.”

Do not say it’s a date. It is not a date.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. “Awesome! Can I text you?”

“Of course! Memes and jokes are not required, but they are appreciated.”

He knew without looking that her number had just appeared in his phone as soon as she’d agreed. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t come up with an excuse to hang around after that. She had work to do, and so did he.

He cautiously held his arms out.

Shit, maybe she’s not a hugger. Maybe the hug before had been a mistake or just a result of enthusiasm or something. I should have asked—

She stepped forward into his embrace as if they’d done it a million times before, sliding her palms across his back under his wings and squeezing. He wrapped her in his arms, basking in her warmth and softness and sweet floral scent.

Before he wanted it to end, she pulled back, a finger barely brushing against the base of his left wing. Tension and heat lanced through his whole body, all of his awareness narrowing down on that tiny touch. He couldn’t stop the soft inhale, but he did manage to swallow the groan that threatened to escape, his mind screaming at him to not make things awkward.

She jerked back, face burning almost as red as Greg’s skin, mortification and apology written all over her face as she held up her hands between them. “I am so sorry ! I didn’t— I assume they’re sensitive and private and—”

Ignoring the fading electricity that danced under his skin—because he was going to be a gentleman, damn it—Bel gently clasped her hands, and she stopped talking.

“It’s okay,” he said with a smile, more than a little impressed that she had pieced together more basic wing etiquette than most souls he met. “Accidents happen. They are sensitive and private, but they’re also damn big and can get in the way when you’re trying to hug someone, yeah?”

Lily nodded, hands relaxing in his grip as a little smile returned to her lips. “Thank you. We’ll figure out the hugging Tetris eventually, right?”

“Obviously. Between the two of us, we’ll get this thing pegged.” He winked. “In the meantime, O Great Lady of the Desk, looks like we’ve both got work to do.” He let go of her hands with a grin, walking backwards for a few steps and pointing to the blade she’d propped against her chair. “See you tomorrow, and be sure to use that blade!”

* * *

Lucifer’s sharp blue eyes zeroed in on Bel’s smile the moment the elevator doors slid open.

“Have you been waiting this whole time?” Bel asked, walking past him.

Lucifer paced beside him, ignoring the question. “So?”

“She’s amazing,” Bel said, swirling the last of his coffee in the cup. The skin of his back still tingled where her hands had been.

“Did you get me a coffee?”

“Nope.” Bel took a sip.

“Where’s my sword?”

“Gave it to Lily.”

Lily, who beat the shit out of a soul of Level Nine–degree evil with gorgeous form and feral beauty. Lily with the pretty eyes. Lily, who told sex jokes to goddesses and generals and told anyone who deserved it to go fuck themselves. Lily, who liked sugary coffee—a white mocha with Irish cream—and hid herself behind walls.

“You what ?!” Lucifer squawked.

Bel just laughed.