We caught a cab on Barbara’s roof and took the slow lane home. I was shaking off the adrenaline dump, and Lydia was hurt even worse than I could see. My cuts and bruises would hurt like hell the next day, but I couldn’t feel them yet.

Lydia looked like a zombie in ripped clothes, still dripping bright golden blood from a dozen wounds. I could tell there was still something seriously wrong with her head, even in the dim light of the cab, but her hair was already growing back.

“You were alone with him for a long time,” she said. “He didn’t kill you, so I presume he made you an offer. Did you accept?”

“I did not,” I said. “You think I should have? Maybe I could have worked out something for both of us.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Lydia said. “I have to report this to my Master, but he will be delighted to hear you turned an offer down, and we just humiliated one of his greatest enemies. This should buy us weeks of goodwill with him and give you time to train.”

“He said he was gonna take me back to his Master; gave me a choice between torture and choosing a new succubus.”

Lydia was quiet for a while. “I know you resent this contract,” she said softly, “and I know you resent me, but no demon will ever understand you like I do, and no demon will ever love you like I do. I know you don’t believe that yet, but I promise, if you trade me in for some random whore, you will regret it every day, for the rest of your life.”

“Nobody’s trading you in,” I said, turning to face her. “You really came through for me tonight, even before we ended up fighting for our lives. For a minute there, playing stupid party games with you, I was actually having fun.” I paused. “I know we can’t leave the cab, but can we just drive around for a while? I’m not ready to go home.”

“What would you like to do?” Lydia asked, moving closer without moving closer.

“Honestly? I want a fucking hamburger. I went the whole day without eating so I could fill up on free food, then all they had was shitty vegetarian stuff. At least Evan had real meat at his thing.”

I leaned forward and spoke to the cab, “Hey driver, is that old burger place still open? Wild Willy’s across from Watertown High School?”

The cab said, “Yes.”

“Do they have a roof pickup?”

The cab said, “Yes.”

“How much is a burger and fries now?”

“The price of an Angus beef burger ranges from twenty-five to thirty-five dollars.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said, slumping in my seat. “We used to go to Willy’s after school sometimes. I could never afford it, but sometimes the other kids would split their burgers with me. I’ve never just… bought one for myself.” I shook my head. “Fifty fucking dollars. I can’t…”

“Timothy, we have meat and bread at…” Lydia began.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Don’t fucking say it! Don’t you dare tell me what we have at home!” I kicked the back of the front seat. “Shit! Now I have to get the burger, just to prove you’re not my mother! Fuck it!” I turned back to her. “Alright, new rule. Every time we win a fight, we get a burger. Driver, take us to Willy’s.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Yes, sir. The reroute will cost…”

“I don’t care what it costs!” I shouted at the machine. “I want a fucking hamburger!”

We landed on the roof of the old building and gave our order to an animatronic cowboy.

“I’m getting you a burger and fries,” I said. “They use real meat, but if you hate it, I’ll eat yours tomorrow.”

“Timothy, I don’t hate everything! Thank you for buying me dinner.” She hesitated, peering at the menu. “Could you… Can I have a root beer float?”

I laughed. “Lydia, you saved my life tonight. Of course, you can have a root beer float.”

I called the cowboy back and added a twelve-dollar float to our order.

The bot came back with a giant souvenir cup and a bag that smelled better than Heaven.

Lydia surprised me, reaching across my body to grab the bag. She grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them in her mouth, then angled the carton toward me. “You have to eat some fries in the vehicle before they get cold. It’s a rule.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I had forgotten, but you’re right.” I grabbed a handful of fries and stuffed them in my mouth. “It’s a rule.”

* * *

We cruised around in the slow lane and ate our burgers in the cab. The AI driver complained a few times when it caught us eating food, but I figured what the hell, I was already on a date with a demon. What’s one more broken rule?

I was carrying leftovers, so Lydia opened the door and walked ahead of me into the living room, giving me a full view of the open back in her sweater. I’m tempted to use passive voice here, and pretend the next few things “just happened,” but I had to make a deliberate choice to put the bag down first.

I threw the bag of food on the counter and caressed Lydia’s naked back with my other hand. She stopped and leaned back a bit, leaning into my touch, and I was gone. I grabbed her, turned her around, and finally had the kiss I had been waiting for, stroking her back, tasting her lips, and pulling her whole body into mine.

I nuzzled her hair and smelled her for the first time, a sharp scent of roses, honey, and some kind of exotic fruit. She tasted like sugar, salt, and root beer. It took me a moment to realize the scent of honey was coming from dried blood, and the V-shaped back of her sweater had been exaggerated by ragged holes left in it from the fight. Her body felt strange under the clothes because the cloth was catching on rough patches that hadn’t completely healed yet.

I didn’t give a damn about my ancestors or my contract or my soul, I just had to have her, but Lydia made a little mewing noise and pulled back. She squeezed my hands and whispered, “Stop.”

“Stop?” I repeated, incredulous, and maybe a little cruel. “You’ve been cranking me up for weeks and now you’re making me stop?”

“Stop, please,” she said. “Your hands feel so good, but not like this. Please wait, just a little longer, while I heal.”

I stepped back, suddenly flushed and guilty. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she reassured me. “I only feel pain when I need to, or…”

“Or when some dumbass accidentally stabs you with silver,” I finished.

“Yes,” she admitted, wagging her injured finger. “But this doesn’t hurt much. Silver wounds take longer, but this should grow back in a few days.”

“Lydia, if I’m not hurting you, I promise, I do not care what you look like under there. You earned those wounds fighting for me, and right now, that is pretty fucking hot.”

“I’ve spent seventy years waiting to have a Kovach in my arms again, so when we’re finally together, I want it to be perfect, for both of us. I want our first night to be something you remember for the rest of your life, and I don’t want you to remember me like this.”

“Lydia, I don’t need perfect. I’ve never had anything perfect in my life. I wouldn’t know what to do with perfect if I got it.”

“Call it vanity, then,” she said.

“Wait, did my succubus just turn me down? Holy shit, I can get friend-zoned by anything.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Lydia said. “We’ll have our time.”

“You sure you want to shut me down? This may be the best shot you get at me.”

“Oh, I can have you any time I want,” Lydia said, ”now that I know your secret.”

“My secret? That I can’t resist demons who taste like root beer?”

“Next time I want you, I’ll just pick a fight with something and let you rescue me. But for now, we both need time to heal. Get cleaned up and come to bed. I’ll be waiting, but please… stay on your side.”