Hell's Revenge by Eve Langlais Page B

assets when around you.” He mimed a pair of huge jugs and I almost bit my tongue in shock.
    “Shy, my ass,” I muttered as I grabbed my purse.
    “What’s that? Did you say we could finally take you up the ass? Woo! Wait until I tell Auric.”
    I growled even as I giggled. “Pig! My ass is off limits. Don’t make me ground you from my pussy, too.”
    David snagged me in his implacable grip and grinned down at me. “You are so cute when you’re annoyed.” David kissed me and kissed me again.
    In the end we were late getting to work as he showed me with his tongue and then with his cock just how cute I was. I already knew, but saw no harm in letting him prove it to me in such a pleasurable fashion.
    Charon sat at his usual spot at the bar when we arrived and I arched a brow at him.
    “Gee, make yourself at home why don’t you?” My dad’s oldest friend—and I meant old—lifted his cowled head and peered at me. Or so I assumed, no one ever saw Charon’s face. He had held the position of ferryman of souls on the river Styx for as long as anyone could remember. While he scared the crap out of most people, I adored him and considered him an honorary uncle. But loving him didn’t mean I’d ever seen exactly what he hid under his head-to-toe robe. I’d often wondered if he took the robe off to make love to his wife or if he just lifted it up to plow her. Welcome to my mind, a sick yet interesting place that never gave me a dull moment.
    Charon growled. “Don’t start with me, Muriel. It was a tough day on the Styx.”
    “Uh-oh. What did your boy do now?” Charon’s son, while attempting to follow in his father’s footsteps, if he had feet, wasn’t quite succeeding. Between losing the oars and putting a hole in the boat on previous occasions, I wondered what was left for him to sabotage.
    “He tipped the boat. Tipped it!” Charon almost roared. “It’s bloody flat bottomed.
    Hell, even the Styx monsters haven’t managed to dump it, and my boy somehow manages to do it all on his own.”
    “Well, I hope the passengers were wearing life jackets,” I said brightly. I tried not to snicker, really I did, but I failed and laughed so hard I snorted.
    “I’m glad you think that’s so funny, considering one of the dunkees wasn’t recovered.”
    I shrugged as I wiped down the bar. “My dad will find the lost soul eventually. It’s not like they can drown.”
    “It wasn’t a soul, but your friend, Azazel.”
    I froze and leaned my hands on the bar as I faced Charon. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What the fuck was Azazel doing on the boat?”
    “Your father was having him moved closer to the castle in preparation for a formal execution.”

    “Why didn’t I know about it?” Dad should have known by now I didn’t like secrets.
    “It was supposed to be the crowning surprise at your birthday celebration.” The news of my upcoming party should have sent me into a tizzy, instead more serious thoughts took precedence. “Why the fuck was your idiot son in charge of the boat? Shouldn’t that have been your job?” I yelled and felt bad when Charon actually flinched back from me. A first … look at me starting to get a reputation for being bad ass .
    “That’s what we’re all trying to figure out. My son doesn’t remember a damned thing about the whole incident and neither do any of the other passengers.” I slapped my forehead. “Ah, fuck. Auric’s on his way to dad’s to get the spell taken off Azazel so he can kill him. He’s not going to be happy when he finds out Azazel is on the loose.” I dove on my phone and dialed my special number to Hades. 666-666-666-666… My dad’s humor knew no bounds.
    The phone rang, and rang and rang some more before getting picked up.
    “Hell’s palace, how may we damn you?” Pokie, my dad’s steward answered sounding flustered. Judging by the yelling and cursing in the background, recognizable as my dad and consort, I could see why he