I sent another text assuring everyone I was fine and decided to go to the potion shop first.

Lydia didn’t want to leave my side, but I reminded her I was a badass demon fighter now and that I was headed to one of the safest places in the city.

“So, you’re going to her?”

“It’s not like that. Denise did more than anyone to help me win this fight, and I’ve got about a dozen practical reasons to go see her mom. Evan told me to get checked for curses, and I need to see an experienced healer. Are you telling me not to go?”

“No,” Lydia said. “But there’s a good chance they’ll spot me, no matter how carefully I try to hide. I can’t hide your aura in a faerie fortress, and you’ve still got a tether to me. There’s a good chance they’ll see it, and a good chance that they’ll try to kill me or try and convince you to kill me.”

“I won’t let them hurt you. I told you I would protect you, and I meant it. There are still wards on this apartment, and we’ve still got a dead god on our side. If I can’t hide you from Denise, I will do whatever it takes to make her understand.”

“She will not understand,” Lydia said. “No one will understand. Timothy, it’s dangerous to keep me here. Dangerous for both of us. I’ve spent six centuries protecting your family, and I can’t let you throw your life away for me.

“The smartest thing to do, the most reasonable course of action is to send me back. I meant what I said about Psongor. He uses his harem for missions, but he doesn’t abuse them, and he doesn’t humiliate them like… my former Master did. He doesn’t have much use for succubi personally, so working for him really is just a job. You won’t be sending me to face an eternity of torture and degradation, you’ll just be sending me back to work.”

“To a kinder, gentler form of slavery?”

“Yes. But I’m a demon, and a situation like this is really the best a demon can hope for. I spent seven generations trying to preserve this bloodline and keep your ancestors alive. I failed your grandfather, and I could not live with myself if I let you die for me.”

“And I could not live with myself if I left you in Hell. I have to tell Denise some version of the truth, and if that goes bad on us, well, we’ll just have to think of something else. Or maybe we can just move. Veazey has been trying to get me back to Texas, and you would look amazing in a cowboy hat.”

* * *

I walked in the door of the potion shop and found Denise behind the counter. Two seconds later, she was in my arms, crying and kissing me, exactly like I imagined.

I usually hedge my bets a little, even in my fantasy life, trying not to get carried away with my dream versions of things that might happen in the real world. Usually even good things are a little off, not quite as sweet as I anticipate, even when they’re pretty damn good.

But this was perfect. Exactly like I imagined, kissing and holding her, smelling flowers and a weird mix of potion ingredients in her hair. The subtle notes of bitter smells made the sweet ones sweeter somehow, reminding me that this was a real girl in the real world, with no demon baggage in the way.

Denise was my own personal Earth goddess, always dressed in clothes that were a little too feminine and a little too old-fashioned for the modern world, inclined to wear dresses and skirts in places where most women would just wear pants, always in Earth tones, usually green or brown to match her eyes.

Her hair was strawberry blonde, not quite red, generally kept short and curly where Lydia’s was long. She was generally shorter and rounder than most women preferred these days, clearly taking after her mom.

Today she was in a dark green summer dress, looking like something from the last century, with leather sandals that came up her leg in a crisscross pattern, like she was borrowing shoes from a survivor of Pompeii.

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“I knew you could do it,” Denise said. “Even when you were losing, I knew you could do it. I couldn’t see the fight and Evan won’t share any details, so you have to tell me everything. Let’s go to the grove. I’ll tell Mom I’m leaving.”

“Denise… Dammit. I can’t hide anything from you, I’ve got to tell you something. Please don’t freak out. I told you about the succubus that got assigned to me? Her name is Lydia and… You need to know… I brought her back with me.”

Her face froze and she stepped away from me. “You killed her Master and brought an unbound succubus back to Earth? Tim, are you sure this fight is over? Sometimes demons have more than one Master. How do you know this thing isn’t gonna slit your throat?”

“If I had lost that fight, Lydia would have been destroyed. Not tortured, not punished. Destroyed. Utterly. She was protected by Name in that contract I broke. She threw away that protection and risked everything for me. I couldn’t just leave her down there.”

“Tim, do you love her?”

I moved my mouth silently for a minute before I could speak. “I don’t… not… love her.”

“And she’s staying with you? Physically? In your home?”

“She’s good at hiding, and I think she keeps most of her form in the gray, but… yeah. She’s living with me.”

“In your living room, or in your bed?”

“Both.”

Denise sighed. “Yeah, I can smell her, but I thought it was from last week. I was really hoping it was from last week.”

“It’s not forever, okay? I’m gonna find a way to take care of her. Find a safe place for her to live here on Earth. But right now, I’m all she has.”

“So, you can’t say you love her, but you trust her?”

“Absolutely. I know that must sound crazy to you, but yes, she earned my trust.”

Denise put her hands on her hips and had to turn away, like she couldn’t stand to look at me for a moment. “This is how it happens,” she said. “This is how they get to you. They do favors, they make themselves useful. They encourage you to run up debts to them, and then, at your weakest moment, everything comes due. This thing is old, right? Like, centuries old?”

“At least six hundred years.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “You can’t trust anything that old. You can’t trust anything smart enough to survive six centuries in Hell. I don’t know what game she’s playing with you. She might even love you for real. That’s how it works with the old ones. They don’t just pretend to love their targets; they make themselves love them for real, just long enough to get the job done.”

“She’s not pretending” I said. “She proved it. Over and over again, she’s proved it.”

“So, you do love her, at least a little bit?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love her enough to explain her to Mom?”

“What? Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, I’m not the one you have to convince, Romeo. If Mom spots this thing, she’s gonna kill it, or she’s gonna send somebody to kill it.”

“Could you track her?” I asked. “Just looking at my aura, could you track her? Could you find Lydia, just by looking at me?”

“She’s still got a tether on you, but it’s pretty weak, and it’s only visible for a few feet behind you. Anybody who can read auras can tell you’ve got a demon problem, but I can’t trace it back to her.”

“Could your mom trace it back to her?”

“Maybe. I’m stronger than Mom, but she’s smarter, and if she gets scared enough to call in a favor, you guys are fucked.”

“Denise, I made a promise to this demon. I can’t turn my back on her, and I will not be run out of my home.”

“Then you better hope—” Denise started, but Cecilia appeared from the back room before she could finish.

I turned to face her as Denise pressed close to me, like she was getting ready to protect me.

“Welcome back,” Cecilia said.

I stepped up and laid Cecilia’s knife on the counter. “Thank you for the knife, ma’am. I can’t tell you how many times this thing saved my life.”

Cecilia put one finger on the knife and made it spin. “I bet it felt pretty good, cuttin’ into that big one.”

“Even better than you think, ma’am.”

She smirked at her daughter. “I’m going to pretend you’ve spent the last five minutes checking him for curses.”

Denise smirked back. “Weak demon tether from his handler. I don’t think she’ll be a problem.”

I didn’t appreciate how clever this lie was when Denise first told it. Cecilia nodded at her daughter and addressed me. “And how long were you with this thing?”

“Six weeks. Well, twelve. I mean, she was in my apartment for six weeks, and then she spent another six weeks...”

“Rocking your world.”

No point pretending “Yes, ma’am.”

“So, how did you get her off you? Before the big fight?”

“I trapped her in a magic circle and shot her in the face.” Technically not a lie, for any angels keeping score.

Cecilia cackled. “So, she made you see God for six weeks, and you still had the will to shoot her?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Nice job. You’re tougher than you look.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Cecilia smiled and started to turn away.

“Do you need to take the knife?”

Cecilia shrugged. “Why don’t you hang on to it, in case you need to open a bottle or something.”

Then she turned back and saw her daughter holding my hand. “And whatever you two were doing, I think you’re done.”