Page 12 of Letters to Satan

“You don’t all whistle while you work?”

“That’s dwarves, assho—”

Watching Xalreth slam the snarky elf against the wall fills me with glee that amplifies when I hear the terrified squeak that follows. Xalreth’s black eyes narrow as Jujube looks like he might have a heart attack, tiny feet dangling in the air. “The Lucifer willnot be disrespected in my presence, twerp. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes!” It’s more of a strangled chirp than actual words, but the meaning is clear. Xalreth releases him and he crumples to the ground, holding his neck and wheezing.

“Anyway!” I say cheerfully as I play my next card, and Jujube cautiously returns to his seat beside me. “I had an idea for something… fun… if you’re interested.”

“Oh?” His voice is raspy, but he can’t hide his curiosity.

“How hard would it be to wrangle a few more helpers and gain access to that unused Furby room?” There’s a familiar glint in his eyes that tells me he was the right person to ask.

Chapter 5

Niklaus

Fuming, I storm into my office, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to quell the anger roiling under my skin. Whoever started the rumor that Santa was patient and jolly was fuckingwrong, because I need blood pressure medicine and a heavy drink after today.

When I went to check on progress in the workshop, I found it in absolute anarchy, stemming from the bicycle room. Paint coated every surface inside, fire was chewing up everything flammable, and the elves wereterrified.

Not a single one of them could provide an explanation, as they all seemed to experience a mysterious case of temporary amnesia. They remembered every other detail, down to the last time the paint sprayer was reloaded, but anything involving the mess?

Nada.

They were locked up tight. Only after things had calmed down and I spoke to them one-on-one did Brie let a single word slip.

“Lucifer.”

Once she whispered it, her lips were glued shut once again, and she refused to say anything else. Now, I’m no idiot. You invite the Devil into your home and it’s a guaranteed recipe for disaster. I’d be remiss not to believe her.

There’s just one problem.

Damien was nowhere to be found near the scene of the crime.

Not sneaking through the workshop or cackling in the corner. He didn’t stand there smiling at the chaos he’d created. No, there wasn’t so much as a hint of his pointy horns or twitchy little tail, and I hung around, waiting to see if he would crawl out of a hole somewhere.

I was ready to blame him. Prepared to banish him from this place, send him back into Hell where he belongs, but he just… wasn’t there.

Furiously, I yank off my thick red sweater, the neon blue streaks and lingering smoky odor a glaring reminder that I still have no idea what happened. Right as I toss it aside, there’s a knock on the door. “Yeah, come in,” I shout as I walk over to my closet to grab a clean shirt.

Speaking of the devil…

Damien walks in, head tilted in a very cat-like way, his eyes flickering down my torso and snagging on my chest as I pull on my sweater. Only once I’m covered does he meet my gaze once more. His honey brown eyes are concerned and full of innocence as he asks, “What happened to you?”

“A bit of a disaster in the workshop, I’m afraid. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that…” I take a step closer and his narrow chin tilts to peer up at me. “Would you?”

“Who, me?” His heavy blonde lashes flutter in the fakest act of naïveté I’ve ever seen, but I have no proof of his involvement. Baseless accusations against the Devil would be a foolish and dangerous mistake.

Even if he’s currently playing coy.

“I’ve been in my quarters, warming up by the fire. It is so much colder here than it is in Hell, and it’s taking me a while to adjust.”

“I suppose that is quite the change.”

He takes a half step forward into my space, and I hate how my body is instantly drawn to his. I imagine that the opening page ofAn Idiot’s Guide to Livingwould strongly advise against getting entangled with your enemies, but tell that to my dick. “You could’ve come and visited me in my quarters, you know. I would’ve welcomed your…” He glances up at me from under his lashes. “… company.”

Gods, the way he says it is almost a purr. “Too bad I was stuck putting out fires.”

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