44 Memo

Lily

“Looks like someone had a rough night.” Moura smirked as she walked by the Hellp Desk on her way to the breakroom.

Lily shot her a smug grin, fixing a typo on the long overdue report for Lev. “Rough night, no. But this morning? Mm.”

What had started out as a simple and sweet good morning kiss swiftly turned into Lily muffling her moans into a pillow while Bel pounded into her from behind, his powerful body curled over hers, fangs scraping along her neck and shoulder in a way that never failed to send electricity down her spine.

They’d ended up cackling when Max had cried plaintively for attention outside their door, prompting Sharkie to be deeply concerned for their safety because of their lack of response.

When they’d gotten up, Bel had taught Sharkie how to flip omelets while Lily went to Common Grounds to get their coffee—and hot cocoa. They’d all headed to Hell together, Bel and Lily with their arms around each other, Sharkie skipping along with her hand in Lily’s. Bel took Sharkie down to school while Lily stayed at the Hellp Desk, wading into the waiting line of souls. Through every interaction, no matter how angry or shitty or lost the soul, she’d been happy .

The last two months had been the best of her existence. She and Bel loved each other, and with no more self-imposed limitations, they’d flourished. They hadn’t spent a night apart since their confessions in the office, usually ending up at her Paradise, but occasionally at Bel’s palace, where the three of them would chat over dinner then watch a movie or play their respective games. Sharkie, who continued to age, had fallen in love with the aquarium version of Zoo Tycoon , and liked to perch at the table beside Bel, the pair of them glued to their laptop screens.

Lily could hardly believe it sometimes, given how they’d had to make do with snippets of time before. Of course, it helped that Sharkie was far more settled, and that their limitations were gone.

At night, whether they had sex or not, they always curled together and talked about something frivolous. Bel had made it his mission to hear the story behind each of her tattoos, picking a new one every few nights, and she did the same with his tattoos and scars. They bandied about ideas for future tattoos, and she secretly hoped that he would get the lower stomach one he’d mentioned, though he had no design in mind yet.

One afternoon, while Sharkie was out with Lucifer, Lily and Bel had sat down to have a non-sexual sex conversation, laying out and discussing their likes and dislikes, hard and soft limits, as well as their known kinks and curiosities. They’d established a set of sexual boundaries, agreeing to build up to the more intense of their interests with time and trust.

It had been incredibly freeing to talk plainly about something that she’d always had an interest in but had felt cautious being open about. Naturally, once the conversation wound down and had come to a respectable end, Lily made good on her promise to ride him again, this time with much less inhibition than she’d had in the office.

After all, the couch was easier on her knees than the floor.

Carlton had also sprouted a new room, much to everyone’s delight: a personal gym with weights, a cardio section, and an open, mirrored area for sparring that had quickly been put to use. Sharkie had asked Bel to help her with her “combat homework” from the Valkyries and the Valhalla warriors. Lily got in on the lessons as well, wanting to learn how to properly use the short sword that had brought her and Bel together.

If they weren’t sparring, Lily enjoyed lifting weights, but mostly liked to read and walk on the treadmill. If Bel was doing one of his insane workouts, she dropped the pretense of reading and shamelessly ogled him. They’d make faces at each other in the mirror, seeing how long they could tease until one of them couldn’t take it anymore.

It was a good thing that Sharkie wasn’t home all that often during the day—they always double-checked to make sure—because Lily and Bel christened the fuck out of that gym. And the foyer. And the hall. And the bathroom. And the living room. And the kitchen. And that was just in her Paradise. Lily was fairly certain that the only rooms in both houses they hadn’t explored each other in were Sharkie’s, and that would never change.

In every aspect, the two months had been steeped with a sense of peace and rightness.

As annoying as some of the souls could be, she loved what she did. There was a camaraderie among those who worked at the gate. Each day was a new adventure. The souls weren’t all bad, though she got to interact with a disproportionate amount of the truly awful and entitled ones due to the nature of the Hellp Desk. She loved getting to see the souls that had spent time healing and growing improve enough earn a chance at reincarnation. Every day was a new adventure. She loved it.

She loved…everything.

The friends. The safety. The purpose. The family. Her family. Everything she’d ever dreamed of, and nothing she wanted to leave behind.

Stay.

The quiet whisper had only grown stronger with every precious moment. Every knowing eye roll from the gate demons as they dealt with the damned and the lost. Every little snuggle or giggle from Sharkie. Every sassy text in the group chat of deities and denizens that she called friends. Every crinkle of Bel’s eyes and brush of his hand against hers.

Perhaps she would forget her silent chest in time, and the yearning for gummy smiles and little hands and more children to love would fade.

She was valued and loved and safe. Wasn’t that what she’d always wanted?

She felt almost guilty for the sense of relief that the sheer safety of the Afterlife had given her.

She knew, thanks to Bel, that the other Universe continued to maintain a foothold in the pocket realm, but had failed to harvest the power of souls from their Universe. They would continue to fail, as she understood it, unless they completely invaded and successfully dominated their Universe.

Bel had quietly admitted one night as they were curled together that he felt like the long build to something decisive was coming an end.

“I still hope,” he murmured, absently playing with her fingers, “that they will give up and go home, but this has dragged on for so long, I’m not sure they will.”

Knowing that, she knew that “safe” was relative. But to her, for the moment, she was safe in the ways that mattered. She could wear what she wanted without fear of reproach or unwanted attention. Assault did not exist in the Afterlife. For that alone, she considered staying. But to exist without thinking like prey, while simultaneously having the freedom to do as she pleased? She didn’t have to worry about money, or food, or shelter, or disease, or taxes. She had an unlimited supply of books and new friends and experiences available.

And if she stayed, she always would.

* * *

Lily watched as a soul approached, weeping hysterically. Her sobs were so intense that it was probably a good thing she didn’t need to breathe. A flash of instinctual sympathy was quashed by the appearance of the soul’s file, which, upon opening, was clearly stamped with Level Six .

Ah, crocodile tears, then.

Lily rested her chin in her palm, flipping the file open and skimming her fingertip down the page while the soul continued to wail with increasing theatricality.

Tears were her weapon, and she wielded them like a master, refusing to accept any kind of accountability or consequences. A hypocrite of the finest order, she virulently condemned others for actions that she herself had done, setting out to elevate herself by debasing those around her.

She’d cheated on her first husband with a younger man, barely into adulthood, who she’d threatened to ruin if he did anything other than comply with her orders. When she’d accidentally gotten pregnant and gone for an abortion, something she had loudly spent her life railing against, she had treated the clinic workers with vitriolic cruelty, even as she cried and they held her hand. She’d snarled at a glassy-eyed young woman in the parking lot as she’d left the clinic, calling her a baby killer. She’d taken sadistic joy in the young woman’s tears, even as she noted that she looked around the same age as her daughter. When she found evidence of her husband’s own affair a year later, she’d dragged his name through the mud for letting his eye wander.

Her second husband had been a timid man, who she wrapped around her finger, then set about terrorizing the children that he’d brought to the marriage, as well as her own daughter. Her husband had been a businessman, and she’d enjoyed the social scene that his connections afforded her, cultivating a reputation as a generous hostess and a formidable enemy. When her daughter committed suicide, she’d wept for a night, but in the morning, she had refused to have anything more to do with it. She told her first husband that she would pay for cremation, but if he wanted anything more than that, he alone would be paying for the funeral, grave, and headstone. When he’d argued, asking her why, she told him the same thing she did to her friends.

“Suicide is a sin,” she said with a carefully cultivated wobble to her voice. She’d artfully dabbed at a teary eye as her friends had comforted her. “Such a shame that she let the devil get ahold of her like that, but all we can do is try to protect the God-fearing children we have left.” Their emphatic agreement had brought her glee. More glee than her daughter had ever given her. Her death was an embarrassment, but the attention and support that it had brought was something that she would happily exploit…

Lily blinked the file’s information away, realizing that her nails were digging into her cheek with rage. She relaxed her fingers and flipped the file shut, coolly watching the soul’s performance. The woman sagged against the desk, quickly glancing up at Lily to gauge her reaction while taking great shuddering breaths as she made a show of trying to compose herself.

“I am so sorry,” the woman choked out. “It’s just…this is all such a shock.”

“Is it really.”

The woman’s eyes sharpened for a moment before she covered the slip with a sharp inhale and a swipe at her eyes. “Of course , I was a woman of faith all my days. Perhaps you saw that in my file? As a child of God, I am seventy times seven times forgiven.”

The reference to a verse was dimly familiar. Lily tried to sound as bored as possible, knowing that a lack of reaction would rankle the woman more than anything else. “Yeah, I’m not too great at math, but I’m gonna say you ran out of those forgiveness points somewhere around…I dunno, coercing a young man into continuing to sleep with you and verbally abusing the clinic workers who were there to help you. You know, if I were going to make a ballpark guess.”

“The devil works in mysterious and wicked ways—”

“He super doesn’t,” Lily drawled. “Like, he super doesn’t. Bastard is about as obvious as a period stain on white pants, and he’s less about blanket ‘wickedness’ and more about meting out justice. I’m not going to rule out wickedness entirely—maybe that’s bedroom play for him, I wouldn’t know. But the point is that bad acting makes me itchy, so knock it off.”

The woman’s tears dried up faster than a sponge in the desert. “Don’t mock me!”

“Don’t make it so easy.”

“Listen here, you miserable little brat, I may have had some lapses in judgment, but I was baptized in a church and forgiven by God, so I should not be here.”

Lily made a high-pitched hum of doubt, enjoying the way the woman seethed in response.

“I am—”

“Lucky you are only being sent to Level Six,” Lily cut in, putting some steel in her tone. “The Universe and, I guess in your case, God, since you chose to be judged by Christianity’s tenets, is a shit ton more merciful that I am. Because for the way you treated your daughter alone , I would have dragged your weepy ass down to Level Nine and let the really scary ones play with you. Matter of fact, if you don’t go where you were so mercifully told to, I will.”

The woman reeled back, hand pressed to her chest. Lily could see in her eyes that she knew she was outmatched. Interesting. A disgusting blot of a soul, but not audacious beyond all reason.

Lily watched the woman go, shaking her head in disgust. Just before she reached the archway to the stairs, a wailing sob split the air, echoing as the woman resumed her performance down the staircase until it faded entirely.

“Good grief,” someone muttered in disgust.

Lily turned to find Lev grimacing behind her. “Hey, Lev! Sorry about the delay on the report. Let me just print that out for you.” Lily clicked the command on her computer and waited for the ultra-sleek printer built into the rock wall beside the desk to spit out the document. Even if the thing wasn’t essentially a tray on the wall that produced papers, she was convinced that its real magic was the fact that it printed every time, without hesitation or fuss or suddenly dying. Sharkie had named it Prints Charming and made it a paper crown.

“Your outfit looks really good on you, by the way. I like the orange,” Lily said, spinning her chair to face him.

He really did look good—the charcoal pants, button-down shirt, and vest were precisely tailored, with crisp embroidery in the demonic style picked out in a burnt orange that matched his eyes and tie.

Lev fidgeted, smoothing a hand over his vest and ducking his head in thanks, setting his briefcase—of course Leviathan had an actual, no-shit briefcase—on the Hellp Desk.

“Have you been able to formulate a clearly defined set of procedures for determining the best approach to deal with souls that act beyond the ordinary?” he asked.

Good ol’ Lev.

“Not really,” she said, waiting for his huff of annoyance and smiling when it came. “Sorry, Lev, it’s…people. They’re hard to clearly define and fit into a standard procedure. When it comes to these kind of souls—sorry, one sec. Either fuck off or get fucked up,” she threw over her shoulder to a male soul who raged up to the desk.

He flipped her off. She held up her first two fingers in a V and licked between them. He huffed away.

Lev’s olive-green skin was several shades lighter when she turned back to him.

“Anyway, as I was saying, these kinds of souls are clearly willing to deviate from the norm, because they’re willing to ignore the perfectly good instructions that they’re given. Some of them are going to beg. Some of them are going to barter. Some of them are going to threaten. Some of them genuinely need help or advice. There’s a lot of people who just need someone to be there with them and guide them a bit. Mortal souls are fucking complicated . I’m not sure how I do it. I just do. But—” She pulled the freshly printed report out of the tray, stapled it, and handed it to him with a smile. “I tried to explain my process for you. It’s double-spaced. With a reference page and citations.”

Lev took the papers slowly, carefully groomed eyebrows furrowed in thought. He looked over the desk, to where the line formed when there was a rush of souls, over the stream of souls moving from the gate to the arches, then back at her.

“Mortals are complicated,” he repeated thoughtfully. “I’ve never given much thought to them beyond the logistics of their numbers and maintaining the levels appropriately. Would you mind writing another report?”

“Um.”

“Just a simple one on the nuances of mortal souls, please.”

“Sorry, Lev, but there’s no way to make that particular topic a ‘simple’ report.”

“A detailed one would be fine, then.”

“No.” Lily laughed. “I don’t think it’s possible . Like, at all. Do you think that you could write a report on the nuances of all demon-kind?”

Lev considered it for a moment and sighed. “I suppose you’re right. You’re sure that you can’t formulate some kind of preparatory material for this…Hellp Desk?”

“Preparatory material?”

He huffed again. “To give to your replacement after your reincarnation.”

Hearing her possible reincarnation mentioned by someone else was completely different from when she mulled it over in her mind. Her own thoughts produced a dull ache in her chest. Lev’s words felt like a sucker punch.

“How about we cross that bridge when we come to it, Lev.” Did her voice sound raspy? It felt raspy.

He stared at her as if she’d suggested he dance naked on top of the desk. “I’ll…consider it. Thank you for the initial report. I have something for you as well.” He slipped her report into his briefcase and pulled out a single crisp sheet of paper. He cleared his throat as he handed it to her, then made sure his perfectly straight tie hadn’t deviated from its position. “I deeply appreciate the changes you have made to Hell. They have been confusing but beneficial. It is also nice to see Beleth happy.”

Lily skimmed over the brief blurb of text, then realized what she was holding and read it again more carefully.

From the Office of Prince Leviathan

Subject: Workplace Decorum

As a result of recent and ongoing events that have taken place in the workplace, it behooves me to remind everyone involved with all aspects of Hell’s management of the importance of not sullying our professional spaces with sex. Office spaces afford occupants privacy so that they may focus on their tasks, not on carnal relations.

Despite protestations to the contrary, and numerous attempts by certain members involved in the management of Hell to explain the opportunities for mutual connection afforded by the horizontal surfaces commonly found in an office (i.e., desks), I must insist on the renewed and fully clothed professionalism of all.

Lev’s angular signature and a round, metallic green seal embossed with what must have been his personal crest and motto took up the bottom third of the page.

Holy fuck.

The memo.

Lily slowly raised her head to stare at him, bemusement and vague annoyance melting away when she realized how deeply green his cheeks were. His tail twitched nervously behind him, despite his obvious attempts to still it.

Oh.

He was welcoming her. In his odd, Lev way, he was welcoming her to the team. Recognizing her contribution. Several pieces of Lev’s character clicked into place. Sure, he was exacting and fussy and so damned fastidious that he’d probably refuse to eat his M Lucifer’s opened up the troop tunnels,” he murmured against her cheek.

All. Lily swallowed hard, sliding her hand up to the nape of his neck, wondering how many of them would return. How many Fae and Valhalla warriors had already been lost.

“I don’t know when we’ll be back.” His voice grew impossibly deep. “I hope it will be short and decisive—in our favor—but I don’t know.”

Lily pulled back to study him, to memorize his features. He seemed to be doing the same to her. Neither of them noticed the elevator arriving.

“Bel!” Sharkie cried.

They both turned in time for Sharkie to launch herself at him. Thankfully he caught her before she connected painfully with the metal armor, hoisting her up so that she could hug his neck. Lucifer was slower to make his way to them, his steps purposeful and eyes grim. He caught and held her gaze.

“Lily.”

“Luci.” She itched being so close to his roiling, unchecked power, but concern kept her voice soft. “Are you alright?”

Lucifer had been tense for the last several weeks, and lately, even Sharkie had commented on it. Lily had noticed some terse expressions on the warrior-like people groups of the Afterlife as she’d moved through the Universal Hallway, but Lucifer had been the most stormy.

He blinked at her once, twice. Some of the tension eased out of his face, replaced with weary resignation. The itch of his power faded. “As much as I can be. I don’t march with them; I stay behind as a last line of defense.” Something that clearly bothered him. “I am sorry,” he said quietly, his electric-blue gaze sliding to study Bel and Sharkie as Bel murmured something to her.

“I know what and who he is. I’d never ask him to be anything less,” Lily said with equal quietness. “If he was anything other than himself, I wouldn’t love him so much.”

“I always hoped you two would get along. You seemed like you would be good for each other. And I was right.”

“Bel told me about the little errand you had him run to orchestrate our meeting.” She arched an eyebrow. “Not exactly subtle.”

“Worked though.” Lucifer’s smile had a bit more life to it. “Bel, go have lunch with your family. I’ll make sure your legions don’t need hand-holding for a bit.”

* * *

They ended up going one level up, to a mostly empty training field dotted with other clusters of demons taking a few quiet moments to say goodbye.

Sharkie was quiet but had expressed utter confidence that all would be well and Bel was badass enough to deal with whatever needed dealt with. Her biggest concern was how long he would be gone.

The little bit of food that Lily managed to choke down sat like a rock in her stomach, but she tried to maintain the appearance of calm. She had faith in Bel’s abilities, and the armies of Hell, not to mention the other Afterlife forces, but still. Bel ate with methodical ease, the underlying tension in his eyes belying the lightness of his tone as he answered Sharkie’s questions about what it was like to wear armor.

“Heavy, but not too bad. Like clothes made out of your weighted blanket, you know?” He brushed a wayward piece of hair out of his face.

“Do you have a special way you like to do your hair so it sits under your helmet and stays out of your face?” Lily asked, wiping her hand on her leggings.

The corner of Bel’s mouth quirked upwards. “Not particularly, as long as it’s out of my face, I don’t really care. Feeling decorative, princess?”

“Can’t have you going into battle with a shitty hairdo. Sit still and let me braid you like one of my French girls.”

“What?” Sharkie asked at the same time Bel barked out a laugh that lit up his whole face.

“It’s from a movie, Shark-a-doodle-do, but the actual line is ‘draw me like one of your French girls,’” Bel explained as Lily circled behind the low rock he sat on.

“Draw, like makeup?”

Lily stepped between Bel’s wings and loosened the tie in his hair. “Remember that documentary on art we watched, and how sometimes they draw people naked to practice different skills? It was like that: an art thing, not a sex thing. Well, in that scene anyway. Those characters in the movie we’re talking about definitely had sex later. In a car. While it was on a boat.”

“That just sounds like a lot of work,” Sharkie mumbled into her sandwich.

Lily tugged lightly on Bel’s hair when he opened his mouth. He shut it again, tail coiling around her ankle and warming her from the inside out. She focused on finger brushing his hair until it was smooth, then sectioned it and began to work, more conscious of what it needed to do than how it needed to look. Sharkie leaned against Bel’s side, and after a few prompting questions, he got her talking about the growth spurt race happening at school between all the preteens.

He asked Lily about her day, and they laughed about Lev’s memo, her fingers working quickly despite the fact that she felt like they should be shaking.

A braid down the middle between his horns, then a pair of braids on each side, all joining together into a single tight braid that she finished off, leaving it up to him what to do with it from there. Mindful of his horns, she leaned forward to press a kiss between them.

Then their time was up.

The orderly chaos on the third training level hadn’t abated, so they lingered in the hallway near the elevators.

Bel crouched down to give Sharkie one last long hug, murmuring his goodbye and promising to get home as soon as he could.

When he stood and stepped close to Lily, his massive hands coming up to cradle her face, she leaned into him, covering his hands with her own, as it was the only skin of his she could easily touch. His silver eyes were intense, but she basked in it.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything,” she said.

He pulled a little pouch out of a nook in his armor. “Will you wear my bracelets from the girls for me?”

“Every day.” Lily tipped the glittery bracelets out of the pouch and slid them onto her left wrist, where they hung loosely.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her long and slow.

“I love you,” she told him, only retreating enough to meet his eyes. She stroked along his cheek and ran her thumb over his little chin spikes. “Be safe. Come home to us.” She gripped his jaw firmly. “Come home to me .”

He smiled at the order and nodded, kissing her again before he wrapped her in a hug, murmuring his love one more time. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his warm, musky scent, embedding it in her memory. His lips ghosted over her forehead before he stepped away. Then he squeezed her hand and turned to leave, only to be blocked by Sharkie.

She held up her pinkie finger.

Bel looped it with his and gave a little squeeze.

“Okay,” Sharkie said solemnly. “Go do general stuff.”

Bel

Bel marched in silence, as did most of the tens of thousands of warriors who walked through long-unused tunnels to war and an uncertain future. Memories of Lily and Sharkie flickered through his mind, blurring his surroundings.

He would see them again. Even if it was as part of the fabric of the Universe, he would watch over them. Lily. Sharkie. His mother. His siblings. His nieces and nephews. His friends. They made his life worth living, and he would give his life if it meant protecting them.

His fingers ran over the smooth bumps of his new braids. Tucking the thoughts of home and family away in his heart, he turned his mind to the job ahead.

“Time to do general stuff,” he murmured.