Hell's Bells: Lucifer's Tale (Welcome to Hell Book 6)

^{C
opyright © December 2015
, Eve Langlais}

^{Cover Art Amanda Kelsey © September 2015}

^{Edited by Devin Govaere}

^{Copy Edited by Amanda L. Pederick}

^{Line Edited Brieanna Robertson}

^{Produced in Canada}

^{1606 Main Street, PO Box 151}

^{Stittsville, ON ,Canada, K2S1A3}

^{Hell’s Bells
is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.}

^{No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.}

A
catastrophe has befallen Hell
. The great and mighty Lucifer has fallen prey to the most wicked of spells. He’s become…nice.

Just using that word makes Gaia want to gag. The demon she fell in love with is not some pushover, some polite, candy-ass, nice guy. She wants her big, bad Lord of Sin back.

Can she, along with the minions of Hell, find a way to break the curse? And will they do it in time to celebrate the wedding from Hell?

Hell’s Bells are ringing The Wedding March, and Lucifer’s got just the outfit for the grand event.

_{The Welcome to Hell series (also available in print and audio):}

“
I
know you’re hiding
,” he sang. The melodic taunt echoed all around her. “There you go, playing games again. But I will find you. I
always
find you.”

The scary yodel invaded the sanctity of her garden, and Gaia couldn’t help but tremble.
Please don’t let him find me.

She hunched lower in the hopes of blending into the foliage. She held her breath, closed her eyes, and prayed—to herself.
Go, go, earth magic.

The garden, with its chlorophyllic sense of humor, thought it funny to betray her. Branches rustled as they parted.

“There you are!” The exuberant exclamation had her prying one eye open. She almost lost it at the brightness of his Hawaiian shirt. “I found you, my darling snookums. Such a playful girl you are.” Lucifer wagged a finger at her. Wagged it while smiling.

Wrong. So wrong—sob—and she couldn’t handle it anymore. She’d reached the point she would have given anything—even the rights to some lumber crews to mow down a few forests mortal side—for a scowl from Lucifer. Some sign that the evil overlord she’d fallen in love with still resided somewhere inside that delicious body.

And she did mean
delicious
. Not just to eat, though, even if she did enjoy doing that too. Standing a few inches over six feet, with perfectly cut dark hair, a chiseled physique, and deep, dark eyes to make her swoon, her lover and fiancé had shed all the glamor spells hiding his true self. No longer did he hide his grandeur behind a mask, a mask he lost when Ursula cursed him with being nice.

Ugh. The horror of it. Who wanted a nice guy? Certainly not Gaia. Part of her reason for loving the big, bad demon was his totally alpha a-hole personality. But that bold and outspoken demon was gone, replaced with this candy-assed polite idiot who didn’t even attempt to raspberry her breasts, even though she wore her best push-up bra.

That’s just wrong! My girls need attention. I need attention.
There had to be a way to fix her demon lover.

She’d already tried slapping and screaming at Lucifer. He’d just turned the other cheek!

Since when did the Lord of Sin forgive?

She tried seduction, splaying herself in lingerie upon his massive bed. He showed her respect and offered to sleep in the guest bedroom.

Attempts to just plain ignore him resulted in him bringing her candy and potted plants.

Potted. Plants.

Not cut from-the-vine or stem blooms. This new polite version of Lucifer refused to kill plants.

What a wuss. And he was all hers. Could she get a resounding ugh?

“Let me help you up.” He offered her a gentlemanly hand to stand from the bushes she crouched in. With a heavy sigh, she took it, and he hauled her to her feet with a strength he kept restrained. The old Lucifer would have yanked her off balance and made sure she fell against his hard body. Then groped her.

This one set her politely aside—without a single indiscreet touch—and asked, “How is my darling snuggle muffin today?”

“Thinking of jabbing sharp sticks in my ears.” So she didn’t have to listen to the syrupy nonsense spewing from his mouth.

“Why do something so painful when, instead, you can partake of culinary delights? You must have forgotten, my sweet cupcake. We have the cake tasting today. A perfect wedding isn’t complete without the perfect cake.” The bright shine of his teeth in the stretched grin held a hint of madness.

At least she thought so. Lucifer’s face wasn’t made for pleasant grins. Smoldering looks, scowls and wicked intention, yes! Sweet and inviting? No. Just no. It was so utterly wrong.

“Can’t we just get your palace chefs to whip something together?”

He clasped his chest—a wasted move since Lucifer didn’t have a heart. Hadn’t in ages, having hidden it a long time ago. “Perish the thought. I want nothing but the best for my pumpkin-spiced latte delight on her special day. A day that is getting close. Just think, my delicate flower, soon we’ll be together. Forever.”

Cue the ominous music. Why did he have to remind her? Bad enough she didn’t know how to get through the next hour with the torture he promised. She refused to imagine a lifetime with this candy ass.

Luc, oh Luc, where are you?
Not in this body, that was for sure. “I don’t want to taste any cakes. I hate cake.” She preferred flaky pastries with whipped cream and fresh fruit.

“Hate cake? How is that possible?” he said with dramatic flair and not a hint of sarcasm. “I love cake. It’s my absolute favorite, especially when smothered in buttercream icing.” He licked his lips and rubbed his belly.

How sad his declaration made her, sad because, until the ill-fated engagement party, his favorite dessert had been pie, her pie to be exact, which he claimed tasted like cinnamon and apples.

How Gaia missed the way Lucifer ate her pie. The new Mr. Manners hadn’t touched her since their party, claiming he was saving himself for their wedding night. Here she dated the biggest manwhore in all of Hell, and she couldn’t get any action. Meanwhile, she was out of fresh and firm cucumbers.

Don’t judge. Organic was all the craze these days, plus she was allergic to most rubbers and latex.

“Shall we, my darling?” Lucifer gestured grandly at the portal he called, a swirling mass of colors, a new addition since he claimed the dreary black version of before lacked invitation.

She let loose another heavy sigh as she let him grasp her hand. “Coming, Luc.” And not in a way that would cause earthquakes and tsunamis.

O
dd
how no one liked his newest status update. But Lucifer couldn’t worry about that now, not when something awful drew all his attention.

Gaia had lost her smile. Something ailed his precious lady. Utterly unheard of and unacceptable.

Give her some sausage. That will make her smile, or gag. Either way her mouth will have something to do.

Lucifer ignored the crude thought. He was having such trouble with that nagging voice in his head. It kept trying to escape the pretty cage he’d put it in, and when it did manage to slip out, it suggested the vilest things.

It is not vile to want to taste some pie. Or throw that sweet piece of ass over our shoulder and have our wicked way.

Such actions were improper for a couple unwed.

Exactly. Which is why it’s such damned good sex.

No sex until their wedding night. And they’d do it for the right reasons. To procreate.

Spoilsport.

Since the voice seemed irritable, again, Lucifer gave it a warm mental hug. The gesture sent the voice—which, for some reason, he couldn’t help picturing as a horned rubber duckie—recoiling and quieted the discontented murmurs for the moment.

Good thing because Lucifer couldn’t afford the distraction, not when he needed to figure out the flower arrangements for the wedding. He’d encountered such a dilemma with that, given the bouquet he planned was limited by flowers he could arrange to receive in silk. Nothing would mar his precious lady’s day, especially not the murder of her plants.

“What do you think?” he asked, holding up a finely wrought bunch of pale, delicately petaled roses. “Do we go classic arrangement? Or…” He held up another bunch of blooms, a vivid medley of colors. “Do we make sure we cover as many flower genres possible so none of her garden is offended?”

His youngest daughter, Muriel, blinked at Lucifer, but didn’t reply. He worried about her hearing. He worried about a lot of things where his youngest was concerned, such as the fact that she was unwed and had a child out of wedlock. Various discussions, though, about repairing her personal life always seemed to upset her so much.

“Have you thought about legalizing your commitment to your gentlemen friends to something a little more permanent?”

“They live with me. How much more permanent can it get?” Muriel asked.

“Your child deserves the legality of marriage, not to mention marriage is a beautiful commitment to the person or, in your case, persons, you love.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with my father?”

He patted her hand as he said, “Don’t try and divert the subject. I understand this is difficult for you, and I want you to know”—he stared deep into his daughter’s eyes—“I’m here for you.”

“I wish you weren’t. I miss my real daddy,” she sobbed.

The old daddy she referred to had lived a sinful life Lucifer refused to dwell on—even if his voice kept trying to remind.

He locked those naughty, naughty memories away and strove to be the demon he should be. A demon who needed to pick out flowers.

“Well?” He shook the bundles at Muriel. “What do you think? Single bloom or many?” Again, she blinked and didn’t say anything.

Poor girl was probably overcome with emotion, given her mommy and daddy were finally going to tie the knot and make her legitimate. He still didn’t understand how he’d allowed this travesty to go on for so long.

Don’t worry, baby girl, Daddy is going to take your bastard stigma away.

You say bastard like it’s wrong,
moaned his inner duckie.

“I think,” Bambi said, drawing Lucifer’s attention, “that you should let Gaia choose.”

A rare frown knit his brow at his oldest daughter’s suggestion. “I planned to, and yet when I asked Gaia, she burst into tears. Poor love muffin. She’s so overwhelmed with all the preparation involved for our big day. I’m just doing my best to take some of the pressure off her. I love her so much.” So much he just had to hug himself tightly, wishing he squished his Gaia right now in his arms.

Yeah, hold her close. Naked. Those soft curves begging for—

Door slam. Mind out of the gutter. He needed to respect Gaia.

Muriel made a choking sound and fell forward, banging her head off the desktop.

“Sweet baby girl,” he exclaimed as he dropped his flowers and rushed to her side. “Are you ill? Do you need Daddy to call you a doctor?”

“No,” she sobbed against the smooth bone surface of his old desk.

“Want Daddy to kiss your booboo better?”

“No!” Muriel wailed louder.

His eldest daughter, who wore an entirely too short skirt and clingy blouse instead of the loose slacks and blouse he’d bought her, drew him away from the desk. “Little lamb over there will be fine. She just is feeling a little overwhelmed with all the details requiring her attention to run Hell.”

“And what a wonderful daughter she is for taking over so I can concentrate on my upcoming nuptials with her mother.” Muriel banged her head again, making him wonder if she needed a hug. “I do so appreciate all her hard work.”

“I wish you’d tell me to fuck off and stop trying to steal your job. Maybe even send an assassin or two after me,” Muriel muttered, lifting her head to peer at him with eyes that burned with the fires of Hell. “Or how about making me gag by dragging mother into a corner somewhere, in plain sight, and trying to seduce her?”

“I would never defile your mother!”

“Yet I really wish you fucking would. Defile her until she screams and you strut around bragging about how you’re the demon.”

“Language, my sweet daughter!” Lucifer exclaimed. “You are much too pretty to spew that kind of vulgarity.”

“Fuck. You.” Muriel enunciated very clearly, punctuating her misbehavior with a raised middle finger.

“Young lady, I am a tolerant demon, but you have pushed me too far. You know very well that kind of behavior is not allowed.” He pointed off to his left, hating to pull the stern-parent routine, but loving his daughter too much to allow her down the path of sin and disrespect. “March yourself to your room until you can comport yourself in a manner befitting a poised princess of Hell.”

“I’ll behave when Hell freezes over.” She scowled. “Again. Goddammit!”

“And don’t take my brother’s name in vain,” he added as his daughter stomped out of sight. He shook his head and tsked as he returned his attention to Bambi. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She seems so different since the engagement party.”

“Are you sure she’s the one who’s changed?” Bambi asked, peeking at him from under a hank of blonde hair.

Arms went flying into the air as Lucifer gesticulated. “Why does everyone keep asking that? You all act as if I’m the one who’s suddenly switched his personality overnight. Yet, I’ve never felt better.”

“You’re wearing pink pastel slacks and a Hawaiian shirt with pineapples.”

“I know. Utterly amazing.” He peeked down at his ensemble. “I know it’s a sin to have pride, but it’s a bigger sin to lie and say that I don’t look dashing.”

“I miss your penguin suspenders and your evil shark tie.”

The reminder of the items in his wardrobe that he’d had to dispose of embarrassed him. “No fear, daughter. I’ve rid myself of those silly fashion choices.”

No, not the duckie slicker!
the voice in his head yelled.

He threw a warm, fuzzy blanket of love over the cage to quiet it.

“Have you been to see Nefertiti?” Bambi asked.

“Why would I see the venerable sorceress? There is nothing wrong with me.”

Such a lie,
snapped his insidious friend.

Yes, he told a lie, a white one, which made it totally acceptable.

You are not fine. For one thing, you hear voices.

He did, and yet Lucifer saw no need to worry anyone with the fact that he seemed to have an itsy bitsy split-personality issue. Things were under control.

Bambi perched on the tabletop strewn with silk flowers. Her short skirt rode up, and he wished he could find a large blanket to cover her with.

“I think you should see her,” Bambi insisted. “Nefertiti has some other tests she’d like to run.”

With an indifference he didn’t have to feign, Lucifer waved a hand. “I adore you for your concern, daughter. But I’m fine. Now, tell me what you think.” He whipped the bouquets into the air again. “And keep in mind, I am getting the bridesmaids’ dresses to match.”

How about we shove those flowers where the sun doesn’t shine
? growled his caged other half.

How about another hug?

Argh.