Date With a Demon & Other Stories

Date With a Demon, Part 2

"Teleportation. My favorite form of transportation," he says, "It's the only one that keeps your clothes perfectly perfect."

"Rylan!" My step-father runs over, "Thank God you're here! Your sister is going nuts!"

I turn to Lucifer, "Can you excuse me? Duty calls."

"How about I come with you?" My date from Hell suggests, "I've been to a wedding or two myself."

"Please do," I offer him my arm and lead him away, turning back only when my step-father calls after us.

"Hey, Rylan. You look good!"

I blush and thank him, then Lucifer pulls me along. We get looks from inlaws, some of their support, others of curiosity, and a few glares from George's great Aunt Harriet and her posse. I don't mind, though, because when Lucifer notices, he sends a glare their way and stops to kiss my forehead.

"That'll give them something to talk about," He whispers to me, "I have never understood homophobia or any other of the other social-based phobias and 'isms. Human minds are so easily corrupted by fear and hatred."

"And yours aren't?"

Lucifer smiles softly, "The mind of a demon, or of the Devil, is focused on one thing - providing someone with that they need to suffer for all eternity. We do not care whether that person is gay, straight, white, black, male, female, both, neither, or anything else."

After we calm Nat down from her wedding day jitters, the procession gets ready. I stand with George and Rory, George's brother, up at the altar. My five-year-old niece is the flower girl and she dances down the aisle throwing rose petals on the guests, followed closely by my sister.

Nat and George say their vows, then my uncle - who took a ten-minute online course to become a minister - marries them and we move onto the party.

Uncle Joseph gets black-out drunk and starts a doomed conversation on politics with my cousin, Maxie, who's a journalist for the New York Times and one of the most liberal people I've ever met. Aunt Harriet and her group of old cat ladies who wear large hats avoid me and Lucifer and occasionally send glares in our direction. My uncle, Geoffry, is looking around his wife's shoulders at George's cousin, Keith. The two of them keep glancing at each other and looking like they want to be together. Nat and George are giving each other googly eyes the entire time, and George's nephew, Clarke, and all of the other kids fall asleep.

Lucifer and I are among the last to leave because we help pack up and it is my job to collect all of the clothes from the dressing room Nat and her bridesmaids used before the ceremony.

"Day after tomorrow, I bring you to Hell and we will honor the joining of two of my people!" Lucifer says back at my brownstone while he makes dinner for the two of us.

After we eat, I show him The Godfather. My devil from Hell is entranced by the film and he sits forward on the couch, eyes wide and jaw agape. When the credits start rolling, I don't think he blinked for the entire three hours.

"Good night," I start to head down the hall to my bedroom.

"What!" Lucifer exclaims, "We just watched that and now you're leaving me alone! I NEED the sequel!"

I laugh, "I'm going to bed. You're welcome to watch Part Two if you want, but let me warn you, it's not as good."

Lucifer doesn't just watch Part Two that night, he also finished Part Three. How do I know this? I wake up at five in the morning by him yelling at the TV about how they "ruined the good name of the Godfather" or something like that.

I take the next day off from work and we spent the day wandering around Central Park and visiting museums. Lucifer wants to look at everything and anything. Apparently, there aren't as many trees in Hell as there are in Central Park.

"I've always loved jazz," Lucifer sighs as we walk past a small band playing near Shakespeare in the Park.

"Why?"

Lucifer shrugs, "It has always been like home. I don't know why."

We eat pizza in Times Square, then go to the ferry docks and watch the boats carry tourists to and from New York. We spend the day together doing all the touristy things I've never done before, or done but never truly appreciated. Lucifer saw the world of New York with wide-eyes and I had been almost sorry to drag him back to the apartment once everything had started closing down for the night.

"I wish I could stay in New York," Lucifer says while I'm cleaning up from dinner, "It's gorgeous here. Everything is so colorful and green."

"I'm glad you like it."