I stare at him. For all the world, he sounds exactly like one of my history professors from college when someone got an answer wrong and he gently corrected them.
“What are you saying?” I ask, holding Mandy close to me.
Now that Santa’s gone, disappearing in a puff of smoke as it were, the tension has drained from the room, along with my adrenaline. I’m cold now, shivering, standing in just underwear and a shirt, and with the way Lucifer’s eyes take me in, top to bottom, I’m keenly aware of an entirely different kind of chemistry filling the space between us.
I blink, pushing thoughts that could definitely land me on the naughty list into the back recesses of my mind. It’s been awhile since a man has looked at me the way the King of Hell is currently looking at me. To be honest, I’m not sure anyone has ever so fully devoured me with their eyes, but this is neither the time nor the place to play out those fantasies. My priority is Mandy. There isn’t time for anything else.
Lucifer grins with such a devilish knowing I wonder if he can read my mind. It’s possible, I suppose. I have no idea what kind of powers Satan has.
“Only someone with magic in them would be able to see me or the pervy elf. Not even most kids can see us, which is how Santa gets away with his breaking and entering schtick every year. And the few kids who can see us usually lose all their magic when they hit puberty.” His voice is smooth as whiskey on a cold night, but his words jolt something awake inside of me.
“Are you saying…?” I can’t finish the sentence. It seems too outlandish.
But he smiles and gives a small nod. “Kids used to channel more magic. But these days, they are too lost in their electronics to notice anything else. But you…”
I shake my head. “As someone who went through two years of divorce court and contentious custody battles, I can assure you my belief in magic shriveled to dust long ago.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret them. I never meant to speak so frankly in front of Mandy, and she looks up at me, her lips quivering. “You don’t believe in magic anymore, Mommy? Did Daddy take it all away?”
Shit. Double shit. I’m the worst mom ever. I kneel down to look at her. “Oh no honey, he didn’t. I just meant that I’m a grown up now and once you grow up you…” realize the magic was never there to begin with. But of course I can’t tell my daughter that on Christmas Eve after she’s just had a confrontation with Santa and his nemesis, Satan. “You realize that there’s less time for it all. For the magic and the play.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “I don’t ever want to grow up if I have to give up magic and play,” she says stubbornly, and I smile and hug her to me.
I’m searching for words to soothe her, words that don’t feel like false promises or lies. But Lucifer beats me to it.
“You don’t have to give up magic to grow up,” he says. “Your mom is proof of that, even if she doesn’t realize it.” His dark eyes twinkle like I expected Santa’s to. “You both have magic in you. More than I’ve seen in humans in a very long time.”
Mandy pulls away from me to face the man before us. Her tears have dried on her soft little cheeks, and she smiles at Lucifer… a smile that nearly lights up the room. “Then that means we can help!”
I stand and look at the man whose cocky grin falters when he remembers Santa just stormed out leaving a bag of presents--and all his responsibilities--behind. “Right. About that. I really am not set up to do that whole… thing.”
Mandy puts her fists on her hips and gives him the look. I know this look because she learned it from me. I hide my laugh behind my hand, but Lucifer shoots me a glare that has probably killed lesser men.
“You will have to suck it up, buttercup, because we can’t let down all those kids.” She turns to me. “Right, Mommy? We’ll help him, won’t we?”
I place my fists on my hips in a very similar manner to my child and assess the man before me. “What do you say, Lucie… you gonna let the elf beat you?”
4
Lucifer
She looks like she wants to suck the words she said right back into her mouth. But also like she will fight me on this, just to keep her kid happy.
I just want to punch a hole in Nick the Dick’s creepy face for getting me into this situation at all. Of all the houses to end up fighting, we choose the house with maybe the last two humans on the planet who still have enough magic in them to be useful.
I mean, they aren’t really the very last two, but it sure seems like it. Magic is disappearing from this dense planet faster than our efforts to curtail it can keep up. I should know, as I was forced to present an entire lecture about it at the last annual Summit. Complete borefest, but since I come into contact with a disproportionately large number of humans--albeit after they have already made some questionable life choices--it was left to me to adequately explain the severity of the problem. I didn’t have a solution at the time. But maybe if I spend enough time with these two, I can figure out what makes them different.
The only problem is… I can’t let them work for me without a contract. It’s kinda my thing.
I clear my throat. “We will have to enter into a legally binding contract if we are to do this.”
Lyla’s face pales and I taste fear in the air. She’s scared of contracts but not Satan himself? I’m starting to get excited about the prospect of spending the night with her--and her little girl of course.
“What kind of contract?” she asks, her voice hard and low.
“The usual kind,” I say casually. “You bind yourself for a set period of time in exchange for something I give you in return. Usually these are more of the eternal soul variety, but in this case it would just be your assistance for the night. One unholy night, as it were, and in exchange, I would owe you.”
She raises an eyebrow at that. “What would you owe me? And this contract, it would be strictly business, yes? We help deliver presents, that’s it. Nothing… else.”
I taste a whole lifetime of bedroom promises in that one tiny word… else. The potential of it hovers between us, scenting the air with a crashing desire I don’t often feel anymore, especially for a human. The feeling ripples through me and I struggle for a moment to regain control of myself as I smirk at her. “Nothing… else,” I say, emphasizing the word that holds so much enticement. “I don’t have to negotiate contracts for that, I assure you.”
Blood rises to her face, staining her cheeks a bright red that contrasts beautifully with her pale skin. I enjoy getting a rise out of her, even if it is far too easy.
Then again, it didn’t take her much to convince me to do this harebrained idea, so who’s the one falling far too easily I wonder?
“So, Lyla,” I say, stepping toward her and taking her hands into mine. An electric current runs between our fingers and her eyes widen at that. I grin. Definitely magic in her blood. “What is it you most desire from me?” I put just enough compulsion into the question to make sure she gives me an honest answer. With skin to skin contact it should be more effective this time. This won’t work if she lies or holds back. The contract must be true to be binding. “And it must be for you or Mandy. It can’t be something like world peace or an end to the pandemic. Even I don’t have that much power.” It’s sad how few people even bother to ask for something that could benefit all of humanity, but if anyone did, it would be this woman.