About a year ago.

~Lionel

“I think what I really need,” I told Dr. Lily, “Is to get laid. Like, properly. Maybe get a little buzzed, you know, so it’s not as awkward. And then just go for it. Right?”

Dr. Lily had completely redecorated Dr. Albert’s old office, and it was such an improvement. Thinks were purple and blue now, and she burned incense sticks every day. The furniture was comfortable. Calling her Dr. Lily wasn’t weird at all even if she was giving me the look when she met my eyes over her clipboard.

“Let’s unpack this,” she said.

Uh-oh. “Do we have to?”

She smiled at me. “Oh, yes, we do! Why do you think drunk sex is the answer?”

I couldn’t hold her gaze. “I never asked a question. You wanted to know why I fainted the other day, I told you it was the blood from when Christine shot our guy in the throat, and then you went on about anxiety. I don’t have anxiety. I told you that.”

She tapped the tip of her ballpoint pen on her clipboard. The pen was a talisman actually, but well made so no one who came to see her was going to freak out over it. No human who would freak out over a magic user shrink anyway. I thought the pen tapping was pretty unsettling.

“All right, point taken. Still, let’s talk about the casual sex. You’re not the relationship type?”

Fuck. Dr. Lily was an assassin who was apparently able to hit her mark blind.

“Well…casual is good, right?”

“If both parties are looking for the same thing, sure, it can be good.”

“Okay then.”

She tapped her ballpoint pen again. Clearly she was gearing up for Halloween later in the month.

“And you find handling a one-night stand easier after you had something to drink?”

I shrugged. “Don’t we all?”

She opened her mouth, but her little alarm went off, a wooden bird that sat on her desk and was enchanted to sing when the forty-five minutes I had to do with her once a month were up.

I stood. “Well, I’ll see you next week then.”

Her mouth wrinkled. “Yes, please. And Lionel—I want you to be safe, okay?”

“I know how to put a condom on a banana, doc.”

I hid my blush with a smile. She was probably doubting the veracity of that statement, but I really did know. I also knew you didn’t just protect fruit with condoms.

“I don’t just mean that. I also mean…” She groaned. “My mom likes to say your heart can be made a weapon if you give it to the wrong person.”

“That’s where the casual comes in. Look, I really have to go. Bye now.”

I got clear of her office without an issue, and from there, I headed right to the cafeteria downstairs. In the elevator, it occurred to me that I probably shouldn’t talk about my love life with anyone. It was nonexistent anyway, so I didn’t have to bother people with its absence.

As if some grander power in the universe had heard my thoughts, the sight that happened upon me when I walked into the cafeteria nearly made me fall backward on my ass.

There, looking at the apples they had started selling about two years ago, stood none other than the Devil his own damn self.

I had no chance to escape unseen, because he turned, his sapphire eyes lighting up when he saw me.

“Nelly. You’re here.”

“That’s because I work here. What, you dropped by to buy an apple? You can do that elsewhere.”

He walked toward me, scowling. “No, it’s not that. Something terrible happened. Someone slashed my tires. I hope the police can find out who and… Hm. I’m not sure. What happens to people who slash tires exactly? Are the slashes returned double onto they skin?”

I crossed my arms. “The fuck is wrong with you? Which means, no, that doesn’t happen. I guess they’d get a fine or something. Slashed tires are not my specialty.”

Although, if they were, I’d not have fainted when I’d ended up in the front seat to Christine—Detective Rice—having to take down that murderer. I wouldn’t have fainted from the blood, and Lily and I would’ve never talked about my shitty sex life.

The Devil’s left eyebrow rose. “Oh, silly. Don’t you know a joke when you see one?”

For all I knew, he was full of bullshit. The problem was, he was also really well-built, and after talking about all the sex I wasn’t having, the timing for him showing up here was really, really bad.

Did I want casual? I had no idea. I knew that asking Lucy for anything like that would probably end up a pain in my ass, no pun intended.

“Haha. Very funny. You know you can’t report your tires here though, right?”

He nodded. “Of course. I just had a few minutes to spare. While I’m here, can I buy you an apple?”

No owing the Devil, ever. “No, thank you.”

He frowned. “Did you bring your emergency apple to work, Nelly?”

I blushed. Had I taken to buying eight fucking apples every week since I’d run into him while shopping? Maybe. Would I ever tell him that? Not over my dead, zombified body.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Ah. Well. Bobbing for apples is quite fun, and around this time of the year—around Samhain—it’s something you should do. Have you ever tried it?”

Bobbing for apples. We’d never have been allowed to make that big of a mess at the orphanage, and the only thing the people at the Collegium ever seemed interested in was bobbing for rum-soaked cherries at the bottom of the punch bowl.

“Nah. I was never that basic.”

Lucy licked his lips. “There is a get together at my house. If you are free—”

“I’m not. Work. I have so much work, I really can’t.”

I really couldn’t, because what if everything I had told Dr. Lily came true? What if I got slightly buzzed and accidentally asked the Devil to have sex? That would be bad, so, so, bad.

“Hmm,” he said. He made that odd noise again, that dark, not quite human growly sound.

“In fact, I have work now.”

I turned, but before I could leave, he put a hand on my shoulder, the softest touch that still filled me with heat I hadn’t asked for.

“What did you want?”

“Huh?”

“Nelly. Focus. You came here. You must have wanted something. Don’t you remember? Do you know your name and address?”

My jaw dropped. How in the fuck were we back at amnesia again? He’d not brought that up in, like, the last three times we’d run into each other.

“Of course I know who I am and where I live!”

“Which is…?”

“I’m Lionel Hawkes, okay? I’m not telling you my address, for fuck’s sake.”

“Hmm. Early onset dementia is really—”

“I don’t fucking have dementia!”

It was just my damn luck that the cafeteria was relatively full and that I had almost shouted. People heard. They stared. It was the Devil’s fault, but somehow I ended up with all the blame and embarrassment while he just stood there, all swagger and a very nice ass in very expensive designer jeans—no. I was not looking at any part of him below his neck. Not ever again.

“I don’t have dementia!” I repeated, but talking much quieter.

He leaned in. “Nelly, you just said that. Did you forget?”

I groaned. “I came here to get coffee, okay? Because I have work. I’m going to get some coffee now, and then I’m going to go and do the work I have to do. Good luck with your tires. Bye.”

I left him standing there and got my coffee, paid for it in record time, then hurried past Lucifer, who had picked up one of the apples. It was an especially shiny one with pristine red skin.

He looked at it, but then his eyes flicked to mine and he bit into it.

I blushed all over again, but hopefully he didn’t see while I walked away, the coffee in my hand. Not that I would ever tell anyone, but coffee was not as hot as the Devil eating an apple.