“How kind,” he drawled, gaze barely flitting over her offering before returning to her. He stilled and then looked down. A look of unmitigated distaste tightened his features and he shuddered. “Are those track pants?”
“We weren’t sure of your size,” Bianca said. They should have brought jeans instead. She’d told the others as much, but Patty had been immovably pigheaded about the light gray sweatpants. The woman spent far too much time on TikTok.
Lynn edged closer to Lucifer with a timid smile. “They’re new. We bought them especially for you.”
Lucifer didn’t seem impressed—which, given the circumstances didn’t seem entirely unreasonable.
Shrinking back, Lynn dropped her smile, and she looked like she might burst into tears.
“Mine wouldn’t fit you.” Christen puffed up his chest and flicked a lock of hair out of his eyes.
Nope, Christen’s would definitely not have fit.
“Enough!” Lucifer’s voice rang through the small room. “Release me and do it now.”
“This is not going well.” Lynn sniffed and dug a Kleenex from out of her sleeve.
Patty grinned at him. “You don’t have to wear the pants if you don’t want to.”
Lucifer moved.
Iron fingers fastened around Bianca’s throat as he yanked her closer to him. “I am not going to tell you again, hag.”
Hag? Hag! Her sympathy vanished. “I really didn’t want to do this.” She forced the words past his constricting grip.
His voice dropped to threatening bass rasp as his hold forced her to her tiptoes. “Do what?”
Bianca shoved her magic at the amulet.
The crystal deepened to burgundy, and Lucifer crumpled at her feet.
“Oh shit.” Christen shook his head. “Now you’ve done it, Bianca.”
Chapter Three
Lucifer’s mind remained aware as his traitorous fucking body crumpled like a used tissue to the floor. Dim but still functioning pain receptors warned him that muscle and bone versus concrete was going to leave a mark. He didn’t give a fuck. Fury pounded through every cell of his corporeal form. He was Lucifer. Pride. All who crossed him would tremble before his fury.
On the plus side, it seems he had found the witch they’d all been wondering about. Dee’s suspicions about Bianca had proven to be correct. The witch would not live long enough to prove Dee right to her face. When he got this gaudy jewel off, there would be no stopping his retribution.
“Bee!” The brunette who looked enough like his summoning hag to be family, and who was still playing body shield to the whimpering boy, shrieked, “What did you do?”
He’d like to hear the answer to that as well.
Bianca, the hag, stared at her. “He was strangling me.”
“You should have used Krav Maga.” The cowering shit edged to the side of his human shield. “If you’d come to lessons with me when I asked you to, you wouldn’t have had to do that to him.”
Bianca stared at him. “He. Was. Strangling. Me.”
Lucifer had been considering strangling her all the way to death, so her fear was not unfounded.
“Krav Maga.” Weasel shook his head.
He would like to see his hag turn her nasty streak on the floppy-haired fuckwit.
The older woman moved closer to Lucifer and peered down at him. “That took him down.”
“I put a little extra oomph into the amulet.” The hag’s face hung over him. Could that be concern in her indigo eyes? You didn’t see that color often in humans. In different circumstances, he might find it fetching. She’d lined those unusual eyes in dark black makeup, which made them stand out even more against the ivory of her face. Considerate of her, because he could read the worry clearly in their depths. She was right to be worried. When he got out of this binding—and he would get out—she was going to pay for every indignity he’d suffered and every impertinence she’d visited on him. These humans could not be naive enough to believe this was the first summoning he’d dealt with.
Another face wove into sight. Backlighting haloed her blond hair, and her melting brown eyes grew moist. “Is he okay? We’re not hurting him, are we?”
Some injuries went deeper than bruises and scrapes, and his pride was feeling rather dented. As he was pride, that was a whole lot more than this pathetic little coven had calculated for.
“I don’t think so.” Hag frowned. “He doesn’t look like he’s in pain.”
“No.” The blonde grimaced. “He still looks angry.”
Oh, he was so beyond angry it was laughable.
“Alrighty then.” The older woman rubbed her palms together. “We need to get him out of here before somebody comes.”
“Pants first.” The blonde blushed.
Modesty was hardly his first consideration, but lying here, incapable of moving, with all his parts on display only added to the indignity.
“Right.” The hag nodded and looked uncertain. “We’ll put his pants on.”
He dared her with his eyes to get near him.
“I’ll do it.” The older woman grinned. Joints cracking and on a groan, she lowered herself to her knees beside him. “They make you hell princes pretty, and that’s a fact.”
Pretty? Pretty! He was so much more than pretty. Spring flowers were pretty. Blue-eyed, fluffy kittens were pretty. Presents tied up with bright red bows were pretty. He was Lucifer, king of hell. At least he liked to think of himself that way, and for as long as it pissed off his fellow hell princes—especially his brother—he would continue to do so.
“Don’t get too close.” Bianca put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “I don’t know how incapacitated he is. We’ve never had a chance to test the amulet.”
Good information to have.
The blonde chewed her bottom lip. “But he’s safe, right? He’s not going to suddenly recover.”
“Well, handsome.” Patty winked at him. “You going to give me any trouble or you going to let me put some pants on you?” She chuckled. “Now, if it was up to me, I’d leave you the way you were created, but these younger women are a bit more squeamish.”
If he wasn’t so infuriated, he might have laughed. She was outrageous. And she made short work of covering him up. In gray track pants. Dear hell! This was not even clothing. Men in this age needed to reevaluate the way they clothed themselves. At least the sweatpants felt like cotton and not some heinous synthetic fabric.
“Thanks, Patty.” Hag smiled, her wide mouth painted a compelling dark red. “Christen?” She looked to his left, revealing the elegant sweep of her neck.
All the better for him to wrap his hands around again. He searched her white skin for signs of bruising from his previous grip.
