Page 6 of The Redeemable 4

“Unlikely,” Luc said, holding the door open for me. I ran a finger down his abs. He still hadn’t replaced his shirt, but no one was going to hear any objection from me. He looked incredibly sexy with his V leading down into tight leather pants.

A wave of sadness hit me, and I knew it wasn’t my own. I sent a silent apology to my vagina and straightened my shoulders.

“Let’s go to the billiards room. We need a plan. I need Arcadia to go back in her own body so I can have sex without her virginal judgement killing my orgasms.”

I love you too, Ace.

We walked through Luc’s palace, as huge and ostentatious as he could make it. The floor was gradually darkening marble, so by the time you've reached the large double doors that opened up to the courtyard, the floor was a pitch black onyx. That’s when you realized you weren’t in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

Chandeliers hung from every ceiling, all the furnishings the finest money could buy. Not that money purchased any of this stuff. A lot of fine craftsman ended up in the pits of hell, and were more than willing to bargain for their skills for a moment's reprieve. You think they would have learned about making deals with the Devil, but some people just didn’t learn.

The Billiards Room was the kind of room you’d find in a hunting lodge built by an eccentric, rich weirdo. Chesterfield lounges sat below huge canvases of unicorns mating. A teak bar sat in front of a bar shelf, packed with bottles of every shape and color. There was only one shelf because every liquor we owned was top shelf. Sitting on the bar was a six inch hula girl bobble head and the disembodied spirit of a bartender given semi-corporeality.

“‘Sup Frank?” I said. He was only semi cognizant, kind of like a walking, talking Nespresso machine. He could fulfil your drink order, but couldn’t give you life advice.

“Miss Acerezeal. The usual?”

“Thanks, Frank. Two umbrellas.”

I sat down on the Chesterfield, and relaxed back against the soft leather. It was nice to relax.

“I need to know if there is another way to get a soul back into a body without asking any of the big guys, or Azriel.”

I looked Memphis, his high cheekbones pressing against his ebony skin. He was a scholar by nature, if anyone would know, it would be him.

“There is no other way, without the intervention of the Father himself,” Memphis said, his deep voice lacking inflection but I knew him well enough that I could tell he regretted his answer.

I wasn’t so easily deterred. They should know that by now.

“I don’t accept that.” I jutted out my chin and stared into his beautiful midnight blue eyes defiantly. Luc sat beside me, his hand wrapped around my thigh. “We will find a way, my love, but first you need to rest, adjust to your body again. Celebrate a little. Arcadia would not begrudge you a moment of happiness. She is not that kind of person.”

My jaw flexed. He was right, she wouldn’t. She was kind, and thoughtful, and had thought of my happiness at all times, even to the detriment of her own. I could do the same for her.

Arcadia let out an unflattering splutter. Don’t be an idiot. My problem isn’t going to be an easy fix. It will all still be here tomorrow. Enjoy your redemption. Drink your cocktail, kiss your pretty boys-

“Men. Pretty men,” Gus interjected.

Arcadia sighed. There’s no such thing as a private conversation with angels about, is there? As I was saying, kiss your pretty men. Feel joy. I owe you everything. You deserve this moment of happiness.

Mephistopheles huffed out a laugh. “You are going to regret your generosity later.”

I reached over and punched him in the arm. “Gus is the fortune teller, asshole.”

Despite myself, I could feel my face curve into a smile and happiness swell in my chest. Home. No one could have predicted that I would be just as happy in the bowels of hell with three fallen angels as I ever was in heaven among the heavenly choir and the pompous attitude of my fellow angels.

“I missed you guys so much.”

Gus, who’d been sipping his moonshine at the bar, came over and squatted down, his spun gold hair falling over his bare shoulders. Fuck, I’d forgotten how radiantly magnetic he was. He kissed my forehead.

“We have more than missed you, Ace. We have been incomplete without you.”

I ran my forefinger down the hard lines of his face. “I’m sure the demonesses have been soothing your pain.”

He laughed and shrugged guiltily. I screwed up my nose. Ugh, demonesses. I hated those bitches, with their wailing, their stupidly big breasts and their grossly long talons.

I looked at Memphis. He rolled his eyes at Gusion, as he did a hundred times a day.

“You too?” I asked him, already knowing the answer. Memphis didn’t mess around with the demonesses like Gus. Memphis didn’t mess around with anyone, except me. Not out of loyalty, though I knew without a doubt that he had my back until the End of Days. Memphis had his own demons, but they were the demons of memories long past.

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