Olivia Chase, a successful woman who sold her soul to the Devil in exchange for a baby, is offered a second deal of a lifetime after her daughter dies: she must harvest Lucifer a series of souls he claims belong in Hell in trade for her daughter's m...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Time was of the essence. I had to rush to get ready and into the car if I wanted to be early and arrive at the hotel before Courage. While I rode, I watched the Handler, with a capital "H." He and his driver had parked their car about a block down from Shawna's. Despite sunglasses hiding his eyes, I knew they were cold and dispassionate; I'd seen it when he witnessed John beat the man the day before. He sat, slumped and relaxed, as he waited for his mark.
I scryed Shawna in the courtroom arguing a case. Shit. When Court adjourned, she would head home earlier than average. The Handler was there waiting on her, and I had to do something about it. First, however, I needed to get Dirty Cop—Courage—to Lucifer. I only hoped there was time for both. I went into the hotel, rented a room, and texted him the room number.
I scryed him in the compact mirror all the way to the room, only dropping the pendant when I heard the knock. I opened the door, smiled at him, and reached to draw him into the room. He used the momentum to put us up against the wall, and he kissed me, rough and hungry. I couldn't get out from between him and the wall to pull him through a portal, so I did the next best thing.
I snapped one open behind him and shoved with all my might. He stumbled back just enough to become caught in the portal's pull. I watched as his spirit peeled away from his body, and I had to step over its slumped form to walk through the portal myself.
This time, I didn't even have to call for Lucifer; he opened the inner door immediately, smiling. "What have you brought me, Olivia?"
Feeling self-satisfied, I announced, "This is Courage." I shoved John once more, pushing him toward Lucifer.
Lucifer's eyebrows lifted. "This man is Courage?"
"Yes," I declared, smirking with my hands on my hips.
Lucifer reached for the terrified man, catching John by the wrist. "No. Unfortunately, he is not."
"Excuse me?" I asked, face flushing. I thought of everything I'd read about the Virtue, down to the fact a lion often represented it. "He's a dirty cop! A cop with a lion tattoo, who I happened to know, and who I've witnessed do horrible things. How is that not 'courage corrupted'?" I put my hands on my hips, confident the evidence proved sufficient.
"Oh, he's a dirty cop," Lucifer said, peering at John, still holding his wrist in a firm grasp, "but he's not Courage."
John snatched back his arm, getting angry. He rubbed where Lucifer had exerted his grip. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but whatever this little joke is, it isn't funny."
Lucifer stepped close to him again, invading his personal space with narrow eyes and a fierceness I'd only seen him have when dealing with Hope. "This is no joke, John. Your soul belongs here."
"Here, where? What the hell are you talking about?" he exclaimed, taking a step back.
"Yes, what the Hell, indeed," Lucifer smirked. "You see, John, I am the Devil. My delightful companion here has brought you to me, thinking you were the one to fulfill her bargain. You are not."
