Demonic and Deserted (Eternally Yours Book 4) Read online

  I sauntered into DickHead’s office and set the coffee on his desk with a thud, not caring when it sloshed over the rim of the cup. “Here you go, sir,” I said perkily, stifling a burst of laughter when he swore and began mopping up the spill with a paper napkin.

  I loved to mess with my boss. I couldn’t help it. I suspected he tolerated my attitude because he knew nobody else would put up with his bi-polar moods, and by bi-polar, I meant he alternated between being an asshole and being a major asshole. Today he was definitely being a major asshole, making me work when I’d specifically asked for this Saturday off.

  My eyes widened when I checked the ancient, rusty clock on his bookcase. It was almost three! I was getting married in three hours!

  Head waved me away with a flick of the wrist after he threw the napkin in the wastebasket by his desk. “That will be all,” he said gruffly. “Get back to work.”

  I stared down at his big, balding head. He needed to work on his comb-over. His hair was so thin in places, it looked like someone had slapped his noggin with a few wet noodles. He really did have a ginormous head for such a little man. I imagined he was one of those bobble-head dolls. I often wondered what would happen to him if I flicked his chin. Would his head wobble back and forth for ten minutes?

  “Mr. Head,” I said sternly.

  He looked up at me with an impatient gleam in his eyes. I hated when my boss gave me those looks, as if I was as insignificant as the mold growing on the faded floral walls. Level ten really did have a mold problem, and I didn’t think there was enough bleach in all of Purgatory to clean it up.

  He motioned to the paperwork scattered across his desk. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  Grrr. He’d made a mess of the files I had so neatly organized for him. I had done all the work, filling out expense reports and adding up numbers on ancient calculators, since Purgatory was too cheap to invest in decent computers and accounting software. All he had to do was sign off on them. Instead, he’d combed through every page and scattered them in the process. I often wondered if he created extra work just to make himself look useful when the truth of the matter was I did both our jobs, even though he was earning double my credits.

  Kind of reminded me of a saying we had in Purgatory. “In life unchained, in death unjust.” I’d worked for an asshole back on Earth, and now that I was dead, I was stuck working for an even bigger poop chute.

  I tilted my chin, scowling at his balding buffalo head with hardened resolve. I’d prevented an apocalypse in Hell. I would not let this prick intimidate me. “I need to leave early.”

  “What?” His pale face reddened, and his eyes bugged as he jumped from his chair, nearly knocking over his coffee. “You can’t go early. You’ve got cases to process.”

  Was it my imagination, or did his head bobble?

  “Mr. Head,” I said with an impatient groan, “I’m not supposed to be at work today.”

  He puffed up his scrawny chest. “Neither am I, but you don’t see me complaining.”

  I clenched my hands until my nails broke skin. “But it’s my wedding day.”

  His jaw dropped, and he looked at me as if I’d grown another appendage, or in his case, asked for five extra minutes on my thirty-minute lunch break. “You’re getting married? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Okay, I really needed to get out of here. The urge to flick his head was too tempting. “I told you about this two months ago, and I’ve reminded you every week since.” I brushed past him and pushed aside paper, pointing at the glaring red letters: ASH’S WEDDING. “Look. It’s on your calendar.”

  He scratched the back of his scalp, crunching the gobs of hair gel that kept his few follicles in place. “Shit.”

  I folded my arms, glaring at him. “The ceremony is in three hours.”

  “Three hours?” He threw up his hands. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  How had I known he’d somehow make this out to be my fault? “Because you threatened to fire me if I didn’t come in.”

  His chest deflated as he fell into his padded leather chair. He pointed at me with an accusatory scowl. “All right, but I expect you back at work first thing Monday morning.”

  All I had to do was lean over and flick his head. I could tell him it was an accident, that I had head-flicking Tourette’s, or maybe I was trying to scare away a gnat. I tucked my hands in my armpits. “I’ll be on my honeymoon, Mr. Head.”

  “Honeymoon?” he snarled, looking at me as if I’d just let an explosive, wet fart. “How long is that supposed to last?”

  I gritted my teeth. “A week.”

  “A week!” He jumped from his chair again, and his ginormous head was definitely bobbling. “I can’t go without coffee for a week.”

  Seriously? That’s all he thought I was good for? Or was he more upset he wouldn’t have his slave to do his job for him? “I’m sure my temp replacement knows how to brew coffee.”

  He pouted, falling into his chair once again before hanging his head in his hands. “I hate dealing with temps.”

  “You’ll survive,” I grumbled.

  Just one flick, Ash. One little flick. His head’s so big, he might not even feel it.

  “She won’t make it strong enough,” he whined like a spoiled toddler, angry after being sent to time-out, “and she’ll probably add too much creamer. Why do you have to get married, anyway?”

  I set aside my obsession to flick my boss’s head as Aedan’s bright blue eyes and sexy, slanted grin flashed in my mind. I swear I felt my heart doing summersaults. Despite our outdated level-ten apartment, with its shag carpet and puke-green 70s refrigerator and my horny grandpa living in the spare bedroom, my afterlife was still pretty close to perfect when Aedan was holding me in his embrace. I almost didn’t mind hearing the creaking of Grandpa’s sex swing through our thin walls or working for eternity’s biggest douche.

  “Because I love him, Mr. Head,” I said on a dreamy sigh.

  The jerk actually had the nerve to laugh before waving me off as if I was a fly buzzing around his head. “Fifty years from now, you two will be so tired of looking at each other, you’ll be begging to work weekends.”

  I tensed. “I seriously doubt that.”

  “You’ve got a lot to learn, Ashley MacLeod,” he chuckled. “Eternity is a long damn time. That ball and chain will feel like a noose.” He wrapped his hands around his neck as if for emphasis.

  I turned up my chin. “Aedan is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He risked his soul to save me from hell.”

  “He’ll come to regret it,” he snickered. “You both will.”

  I seriously doubted that, because Aedan was nothing like Mr. DickHead. My jerkface boss had started out on level two sixty years ago for good reason. He’d been bumped up to level ten so quickly because his wife had loaned him the credits. If anyone had any regrets, I was positive she did.

  I walked toward the door. “Thanks for the pep talk, Mr. Head.” I waved in his direction, not bothering to give him another glance. “Have a nice day.”

  “Enjoy the honeymoon while it lasts,” he called while I was slamming the door behind me.

  Mr. Head had no idea what the hell he was talking about. His marriage was probably dismal because Mrs. Head hated being committed to a fat-headed little douche. I’d had the unpleasant experience of meeting Mrs. Head once. The woman was a miserable mess. I could see it in the rigid way she walked, as if she had a flagpole wedged up her ass. She’d been nice enough to me, but whenever her husband addressed her, lines of remorse framed her eyes and mouth, lines no amount of Botox could erase. Yeah, the woman was miserable, but I didn’t have to be. For starters, Aedan was nothing like Head. Sure he had his flaws, but being an incompetent idiot wasn’t one of them.

  Aedan was more than competent, especially when it came to dusting demons, and then there was that other thing he was really good at. Really, really good. Without spilling too many details, let’s just say he had one hell of a talented
tongue. Mmmm. Just thinking about making love to Aedan set my panties on fire. I so couldn’t wait to be married to that man, and I especially couldn’t wait until we scorched the sheets on our honeymoon.

  * * *

  I walked through the door to our cramped apartment and shrugged off my jacket and heels with a groan.

  Aedan came out of the bedroom, looking debonair in a tailored black suit that was at least a century out of date. He had on one of those fat burgundy ties I think was called a cravat, a satin vest, and a high white collar. He’d grown out his sideburns, and they blended with his wavy hair, making him look like he’d just stepped out of a Jane Austen novel.

  Wow, he was a delicious hunk of man meat. I couldn’t believe he was going to be all mine.

  When he saw me gaping at him in the doorway, his brow furrowed and his normally bright blue eyes turned a dark cobalt. He stomped across our puke-green shag carpet with muffled steps. Grabbing my shoulders, he looked down at me with a pout. “Ash, what took you so long?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know I work for Purgatory’s biggest prick.”

  He tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear, that bottom lip of his hanging so low, I was tempted to nibble it.

  “I wish you’d quit that job.”

  I jerked back. “So it will take us twice as long to get to the top?”

  He pulled me into his arms, looking at me with an intensity that made my knees wobble. “I don’t care how long it takes, as long as we’re together.”

  God, I loved this man. I leaned up, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, and ran my hands through his thick, wavy hair. I batted my lashes, flashing my naughty, but pretending to be innocent, smile. “What do you say we start this honeymoon early?”

  He growled in response, claiming me with one exquisite, panty-melting kiss. I had no idea how long our lips were locked. Long enough to make that uncomfortable ache between my thighs swell into a throbbing need, and long enough to saturate my undies to the point I knew I’d need to change them before our wedding.

  Our wedding!

  I pulled back with a gasp, panting against his mouth. Reluctant though I was, I pushed him away and checked the time on the DVR.

  “Inés has to do my hair,” I squealed. “She’s probably freaking out.”

  Aedan grabbed my ass, hauling me against his rock-hard erection. “Inés can wait.”

  “Aedan, that’s rude.” I pushed him away, “accidentally” swiping the tight bulge beneath his pants. I knew I was being a tease, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “But I want you,” he begged, grabbing my hand and placing it back over his bulge. Aw, jeez. I really, really was tempted to run into the bedroom for a quickie, but then I thought of our honeymoon tonight, and how much better sex would be with a little suspense.

  I pulled back, crossing my arms. “No means no.”

  I couldn’t help but smile when he jutted a foot forward, reminding me of a hungry predator, and I was a big, juicy fillet, tenderized and seasoned for a romp beneath the sheets.

  I skirted the sofa, nearly tripping over our pale blue, -secondhand luggage. “Help me with these.” I picked up a suitcase and shoved it against him.

  I grabbed the garment bag holding my wedding gown, a beautiful 1940s throwback my grandma had lent me. I’d fallen in love with the dress the moment my grandma had brought it from Heaven. It made me look like a pinup model, complete with a perky bustline and a tight waist that flared at the hips, concealing my womanly thighs. I’d spruced it up a bit with a red sash and glossy red pumps, and the result was fabulous. I couldn’t wait until Aedan saw me in it.

  “What’s in this?” He frowned, reaching for my bag.

  I gasped, yanking it away from him. “It’s my wedding dress. Don’t look. It’s bad luck.”

  “We’re already dead.” He chuckled. “I think we’re beyond superstitions now.” He opened the zipper.

  Much to my horror, white taffeta and a red satin sash spilled out of the bag.

  “No, Aedan!” I shrieked, spinning, my hands shaking as I shoved the fabric back inside. I flashed him a warning scowl while clutching the bag to my chest.

  Aedan stepped back, holding out his hands in a defensive gesture. “Ash, what’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing.” I fumbled with the zipper on the bag while averting my gaze. “I’m just nervous.”

  “Nervous?”

  I glanced up at him, and my heart twisted. He had this wounded look in his eyes, like he was my black Lab Jack, and he’d just been scolded for drag-racing his ass across the carpet.

  I bit my lip, feeling like a ten-pound bucket of horseshit after all Aedan had done for me. I stared at my feet, unable to stand seeing the hurt in his eyes. “We’re about to make a huge commitment, Aedan.”

  “I’m already committed to you. I’ve been committed ever since I risked my soul to save you from Hell.”

  Aw, jeez. Aedan knew exactly how to trigger my guilt-trip sensors. They all went off simultaneously, blaring, “YOU’RE A SELFISH BRAT!” while neon strobe lights flashed “YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM!” in my brain. I covered my face with my hands, choking on a sob. “You must think I’m horrible.”

  “No, I don’t,” he said soothingly as he took me in his arms, pulling me against him, his warmth radiating around me like an electric blanket. “If you’re getting cold feet, we can wait. “

  “I don’t want to wait.” I looked up at him through watery eyes. “I want to marry you. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  He flashed a weak smile, wiping the moisture from my eyes. “Okay, so why are you panicking?”

  “Mr. Head said we’ll get tired of each other,” I blurted and then instantly regretted it. Why would I ever listen to my asshole boss?

  Aedan laughed. “And you believed that jerk?”

  “You’re right.” I smacked my forehead. “I’m an idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot. You’re a nervous bride.” Aedan tilted my chin, brushing soft kisses across my brow and nose before lingering a few moments longer on my lips.

  I sighed into him, clutching his collar like a lifeline, even though I didn’t deserve this man. “I shouldn’t be nervous, not after what we’ve been through together.” After we’d thwarted an apocalypse, survived an army of angry spiders, defeated a soul-sucking dragon, and endured Hell’s horny water, we could make it through a lifetime of morning breath and arguing over leaving the toilet seat up.

  Speaking of the toilet seat, last night Mr. Manners left it up again. After drinking too many margaritas with my grandma, Inés, Basil, and some girlfriends from work at my bachelorette party, I had to make an unexpected butt-crack of dawn trip to the bathroom. I’d been too tired and hung over to check the seat. Since the ancient, clunky 80s toilets in level ten purgatory were slightly wider than my ass, I fell in with a splash and then a grunt.

  After screaming like a banshee, and calling Aedan every swear word in the book, he’d stumbled into the bathroom with half-lidded, groggy eyes, grumbling because I’d woken him from his beauty rest. Then he’d the nerve to laugh, his eyes bugging when he saw me flailing, trying to free my butt from the crapper’s hungry jowls. He grabbed both hands, tugging me a few times before I flew out of the toilet with an angry “pop,” falling on top of him. I was so mad, I’d jabbed him in the gut. He buckled over with a grunt, but he’d gotten off easy. My wet ass had been imprinted with the angry red ring of shame. I went to bed pissed off, scooting to the edge when he’d tried to cuddle.

  The toilet seat had been down when I woke up this morning. Even more surprising was that Aedan’s dirty socks and underwear had found their way to the hamper. And they said miracles only happened in Heaven. By the time I’d gotten out of the shower and sat down to a steaming cup of coffee, scrambled eggs, and bacon, I’d forgiven my fiancé. Besides, how could I have resisted his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips? We’d parted with a warm hug and a kiss, a really deep, panty-wetting kiss. He’d begged me not to go in
to work. I should have listened. I’d known Mr. Head wasn’t going to fire me. Could my boss have been right? Was I subconsciously trying to get away from Aedan?

  “You’re awfully quiet.” He kissed my forehead before looking at me with a playful smirk. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just can’t wait to be Mrs. O’Connor,” I lied. Jeez, Ash, what a way to start off a marriage.

  “Well then, my beautiful bride,” he said as he laced his fingers through mine, “let’s hit the elevator.”

  Chapter Two

  I wordlessly followed my fiancé out of our apartment and to the other end of the hall, where Archangel Cam had installed our private elevator. I smiled at Aedan when he pressed the down button that would take us to the top level of hell. Yeah, we were getting married in Hell because some of our friends hadn’t been pardoned by God and were still stuck down there. Technically, it wasn’t really hell, since they were living in the Nephilim Army’s abandoned pyramid. Still, the thought of getting married anywhere near the vicinity of the fiery pit was starting to feel like a mistake. Talk about bad luck. Exposing my wedding dress to the groom paled in comparison to saying our vows in the Devil’s den, no matter how much it had been spruced up.

  Just as I started having real doubts about our venue, the elevator door dinged open, and I numbly followed Aedan inside. The elevator was darker than usual. A fluorescent bulb overhead was out, and another flickered as if the fuse had a short circuit. I really didn’t feel comfortable traveling to Hell in a dimly lit elevator. Actually, I didn’t feel comfortable traveling to Hell at all, but Aedan didn’t seem to be bothered by it. When he pressed that sub-level one button, my stomach nearly jumped into my throat.

  No turning back now, Ash. You’re about to say “I do” for eternity.

  Eternity. I couldn’t even fathom how long that was, because it never ended.