Into our cars we went—Darius, Penny, Emery, and me in my car, followed by Dizzy and Callie, who’d refused to stay behind. Poor Veronica had been left at their house alone, guarded by an impenetrable ward, which was definitely for the best in case things went pear-shaped. I took a couple deep breaths and prepared to invite my father into my world.
Darius slipped his hand onto my thigh. “It is encouraging that he decided to visit. He does not seem to harbor ill will.”
“He’s always like that,” I responded, clicking on my turning signal. Somewhere above us, Lucifer flew in his demon form, a very handy way to get around town. “He’s chill until he isn’t.”
“He probably wants to talk you into helping him take down the elves,” Penny said, looking out the window. She held Emery’s hand.
“Probably,” I replied, getting onto the highway.
“So he can find you anywhere?” Penny asked. “There is no hiding from him?”
“Not unless she uses that spell we did,” Emery murmured.
He was talking about a spell that could magically make me disappear. I could assume a new appearance, wipe out the feel of my demonic magic that allowed my father to track me, and drift into the shadows. If my mother had had access to that spell, I knew she would’ve used it on me to give me a normal life. After she’d passed, I likely would’ve used it on myself. But now?
No. I liked who and what I was. Even if Lucifer and I didn’t end up getting along, I wasn’t going to hide from him. I wasn’t going to slink away and turn into someone else. I’d worked hard to become me over the years, and I wouldn’t change because of some daddy issues.
“Seems so,” I said.
Penny clearly read the not gonna happen behind my statement, because she murmured, “There has to be a way to mask her magical signature without changing her. Like camouflage. A temporary thing…”
I took the exit, close to home now. Adrenaline and nervousness fired through me.
The car was quiet as I rolled down my street. I loved this little corner of the world, just like I loved my magic and myself. I wanted to share it with Lucifer. It might not be much, but it was mine.
He landed as I turned off the car and pushed open the door. Mikey stood near his stairs, a hard scowl affixed on my father. He looked like he was about ready to run—seeing a demon turn into a man before his eyes probably wasn’t sitting well. Smokey waited in the shadows of the cemetery across the street, watching the goings-on. Mince, a guy that lived a block over, strolled down the street toward us, his eyes downcast, looking at his phone. He’d missed Lucifer landing.
“Long time, no see,” I said as he came closer.
He glanced up, his face creased with annoyance from whatever he’d been looking at on his phone. His nose was wide and a bit crooked from being broken so many times during his boxing years, and a bit more padding lined his stomach than the last time we’d seen each other. His gaze shifted to my front yard.
“Smokey said that whack job is gone,” he said.
He meant the Red Prophet. He wasn’t a fan.
“Is she?” I looked at Smokey, crossing the street to us. “She took off?”
“She said she had to intercept the musings of a madwoman or some shit,” Mikey said, his stare still on Lucifer. “That guy was here earlier. Claimed he was your old man.”
“Yeah.” I came around the car with a straight back and raised my chin in case Lucifer looked down on my home. “He is.”
Callie and Dizzy parked behind my car and got out, bickering about something. They cut off when they saw Lucifer standing at the base of my stairs.
“We havin’ a party?” Mince nodded at Lucifer, then smiled at Darius, showing off a chipped front tooth. That was new. “Hey, bro. Where’s your fancy car?”
“This ain’t stuff you want to get messed up in,” Mikey said to Mince in a low tone. “The new guy makes the Red Prophet look like a saint.”
“What?” Mince stopped, squinting at Lucifer. “Why?” He took a step back.
“He’s fine.” I gestured at Mikey. “Lucifer, this is No Good Mikey, obviously Mikey for short.” I pulled out my keys.
“What the fuck did she just say?” Mince stepped back again, now turned sideways, ready to run. “What kind of dude calls himself Lucifer? Because Lucifer is fictional.” He bent at the waist a little, his features comically wide. “Lucifer is fictional, right?”
“And that is Mince.” I motioned to him. “They aren’t magical, and aren’t real fond of things that are.”
“Wonderful to formally meet you, Mikey, Mince.” Lucifer smiled at the now-frozen Mince. “Yes, my name is Lucifer. I do not run hell, although some don’t see much of a difference. I am not fictional, as you can see, though I doubt I resemble the stories you’ve heard as a child, either. I never wear red hats over my horns, for example. My horns are black.” His image rolled into his demon shape, black wings snapping out to the sides. He had glowing red eyes stuck in a bony face with two horn nubs at the top of his forehead. I was nearly positive he could make this form look nicer, since he could effect any form he wanted with his magic, but he clearly liked dramatics. Or maybe he used his human look for the Dr. Jekyll version of himself and the demon form for Mr. Hyde.