Page 51 of Princess of Hell

It made no sense to argue with Clotho. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I should have confronted Christobald and let him know what was going on, but what would have been the sense of it? I would have been upset, and I would have only managed to piss of Lucifer’s advisor. Everybody knew that Christobald and Silver were so close that not even the blade of a knife had space between them. All I wanted was to see my fiancé, spend some time with her. I didn’t understand why we should stay at a distance and only see each other on our wedding day.

I’m awful at following rules. That’s why I ignore them.

Traveling through portals, especially to another dimension, always leaves me woozy. I can’t say I was surprised when I hit a gravestone, hard. The marble broke with a thud when the back of my head cracked against it.

Thanks, Clotho. I could almost hear her laugh in the distance.

As I scrambled to get away, a second loud thud attracted my attention. Carson lay flat on his face on the grave next to me.

Awesome.

“Fuck, Cas. Where the fuck are we?”

I allowed my eyes to get used to the bright sun and the surroundings. Graves that were above ground filled the perimeter. The sound of a band rang close by. Dried flowers stood in vases and candles that had melted long ago guarded the space.

“New Orleans, Carson. Get up. We have to find Silver.”

“Why the fuck is she here? And why did The Fates throw me through the portal, man? I had a hot date with a three-headed demon tonight. Her middle head gives great head.”

Carson sounded sad and whiny.

“You’re here because I am. Now, let’s go.”

I stood and dusted off my clothes.

“I need a drink, and I know just the place to get it.” I did not want to listen to Carson’s moaning.

Fifteen

Caspian

Lilith Club and Bar was on the same spot where I last saw it twenty years ago. Only now it looked dark and gloomy, like a set from an Anne Rice movie.

Lilith was an old friend. More like the cool aunt who snuck out to a party and taught you how to smoke. Not a good influence, but the best mother replacement I could have wished for.

It was five in the afternoon in the human realm. Carson and I walked down to Bourbon Street. Pushing open the door to the bar, I was engulfed by the lovely feeling of almost being home. Aretha Franklin sang out of the excellent stereo system about lost loves and summer from another era.

Lilith stood behind the bar, polishing a glass. She looked exactly as she always did. Her jet-black hair was pinned up in a rockabilly doo. Her arms and the skin under her décolleté were covered in tattoos, and her lips were painted in the deepest, most impossible red lipstick I ever saw.

I walked with Carson to the bar, pulled out a chair, and waited for the moment when she turned her face toward me.

“It’s about time,” she muttered before she turned.

“Lilith.”

“Baby, I felt you since you stepped through the portal. What are you doing here?” She grabbed my face in her palms and gave me a maternal kiss on both cheeks.

“If I said I missed you, would that fly?”

Lilith raised an eyebrow and looked at me, her eyes switching from the green she wore in the human realm to full Demon black. “Nope. I’m all for a good lie, but you need something.”

“Well, first, I need a drink, same as my friend here.”

Lilith didn’t know Carson. He stood with his open mouth, watching her. Carson is a gentle giant, but he can look scary and intimidating with his strongman build.

I’m more on the lean side. I got my passion for tattoos from Lilith. She took me to get my first. Since then, my body has been covered in tattoos.

Lilith put three beers on the counter. I couldn’t watch Carson trying to muster up the courage to introduce himself.

---