Chapter 76

Persephone

“Why did you come out to visit us?” my mom asked when we got into Lucifer’s SUV. She had her own car, but she’d seemed unable to resist the temptation to ride in the devil’s SUV.

“What makes you think I have some ulterior motive?” I asked.

She said nothing, simply waited for me to continue, like she knew I would.

“Fine,” I relented. “Hades wants your blessing.”

“Our blessing?” my mom asked, sounding thoroughly confused. “For what?”

“Just about everything,” I replied as I drove the short distance to my mom’s shop. In truth, she could have prepared the spell at home, but a trip to the store would give my dad more time to study Hades. “He wants me to live with him and do a fallen angel bonding ceremony.”

“What about a witch ceremony?” my mom asked.

“How long has it been since you’ve been to a council meeting?” I asked.

“Not long enough,” my mom replied. “I take it there’s less bureaucracy involved with a fallen angel bonding.”

“No bureaucracy at all,” I told her. “After the meeting I recently attended, I have no intention of willingly going to another.”

“They are very boring,” my mom agreed. “That’s one thing I definitely haven’t missed. It’s funny because while I was active in witch politics, I found the bureaucracy comforting. The world changes fast, but not much changes in the witch community. The biggest change in my lifetime was when male witches suddenly decided they should be called warlocks.”

“No other species in the preternatural community does that,” I replied thoughtfully. “I suppose the fallen angels from the old pantheons used the god and goddess distinction.”

“I wonder if they still do that,” my mom pondered.

“We should ask Hades,” I suggested.

“So, what did you say to Hades about the fallen angel bonding?”

“I told him yes,” I replied. “We’re also getting married so you and Dad can be there for the ceremony.”

“Thank you,” my mom said, flashing me a brief smile. “Adjusting to life in the demon realm won’t be easy.”

“It’s not that bad,” I assured her. “If I end up not liking his home, he offered to move elsewhere in the demon realm.”

“You’ve been staying there for weeks,” my mom pointed out. “How do you feel about the location? Don’t just give me another vague answer.”

I hesitated because my answer wasn’t simple. While I liked Hades’s home, it also held a lot of bad memories for him. Redecorating the rooms he’d avoided didn’t necessarily mean he’d be more inclined to spend time in them. I also wasn’t sure about the area surrounding his home. “I think I could be happy living in his home, and there are areas in the demon realm I like, but his neighborhood isn’t very nice. It’s close to the prisons, and it’s very depressing. He has a view of the River Styx from his porch. That’s really cool.”

“That sounds both depressing and fascinating,” my mom admitted.

“It is,” I agreed. “At first, I was excited to see everything around his home, with the exception of the prisons. Now, I’m beginning to long for a pretty place to go out for a walk.”

“You’re not trapped there,” my mom reminded me. “There must be demon portals near his home you could use to go somewhere nice.”

“You’re right,” I agreed.

I parked in front of my mom’s store and looked over at her when she let out a sad sigh. “This isn’t what I wanted for you, yet part of me is happy for you.”

“You never expected me to love him,” I reminded her.

“I never expected to move past the desire to cut his heart out and shove it down his throat,” she muttered. “To be honest, I didn’t know him when I first started hating him.”

“You had good reason to hate him,” I told her. “If I’d known about your sister, I’m not sure I could have given him a chance.”

Once she unlocked the door to the shop, my mom turned to me with an affectionate smile. “You don’t have it in you to hold a grudge. You still would have seen more in Hades.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. We headed back to my mom’s lab where she made an assortment of healing teas and some readymade spells. The spells weren’t sold to humans, but she’d used some on humans. Many of her spells had to do with reproduction. My mom’s power involved life. In many cases, she could help a couple who was infertile conceive. She’d helped women get their breech baby to turn, eased labor pains, relieved colic in babies, and a multitude of other things. My mom also had an array of teas for relaxation and headaches. Her shop would be missed when my parents moved away. That day was coming soon.

I giggled as a thought occurred to me.

“What’s so funny?” my mom asked.

“I was thinking that your magic mostly has to do with life,” I explained. “It’s funny because you’re the granddaughter of the angel of death.”

My mom laughed. “That is funny. I’d never even thought about that. Azrael came by the store.”

“He did?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.

She nodded. “He looked really out of place here, and I think he made everyone nervous,” she replied as she began working on my birth control spell.

“I’ve had lunch with him twice,” I told her. After my first lunch date with Azrael, I’d called my mom to tell her about it.

She nodded. “He told me. He also says you gave him your number.”

“I didn’t exactly give him my number,” I replied. “Actually, I guess I did since I made no effort to block it when I called him. Why didn’t you tell me you were talking to Azrael?” I’d ask Azrael the same question if I didn’t know he wasn’t the best conversationalist. He was getting better, but he rarely shared any information I didn’t ask for.

“It never came up,” was the lie she went with.

“You’re a much better liar than I am,” I accused.

She flashed me a grin. “I know.” Her focus returned to her work as she continued. “When you’ve called recently, you’ve had a lot to talk about. I didn’t want to bring up Azrael and have you worrying about how it was affecting me.”

“How is it affecting you?” I asked.

“It’s getting easier,” she replied. “Angels still make me uneasy, and Azrael is one of the scarier angels.”

“Not really,” I argued. “He’s brooding and socially awkward, but I wouldn’t call him scary.”

“Aren’t the killers in those books and movies you love so much always brooding and socially awkward?” she asked.

I shook my head. “In some, that’s how the killer acts, but in my favorites, the killer is friendly, and everyone believes they’re a nice person.”

“Then how do you know who the killer is?” My mom wasn’t a big fan of mysteries.

“You often don’t until the end,” I told her. “That’s the best part. I turn each page, not knowing who to trust. It’s very exciting.”

“That sounds horrible,” my mom said with a laugh.

“I feel the same about those sappy books where the heroine’s heart flutters when she sees the hero walk into a room,” I told her. “If my heart starts fluttering, I’ll be worried I’m having heart palpitations.”

“Witches don’t have heart palpitations,” my mom reminded me.

“It’s still the first thought that came to mind,” I insisted. “I may love Hades, but there will be no fluttering of my heart.”

“You really do love him, don’t you?” my mom asked.

“With all my heart,” I replied.

“Then we’d better hurry back before your father drives him crazy with all his questions.”

My mom’s suggestion made me laugh. “Oh, Mom. Hades is already crazy.”