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    Date With Death: Welcome To Hell, #3
    Date With Death: Welcome To Hell, #3
    Date With Death: Welcome To Hell, #3
    Ebook156 pages1 hour

    Date With Death: Welcome To Hell, #3

    By Eve Langlais

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Instead of collecting her soul, he captured her heart.

    Marigold has a date with Death, but when she foils his plan to take her soul back to Hell, she invites him to dinner instead.

    Mictain, an Aztec god who now collects the dead for Satan, is baffled at his interest in the plump human who can see him. Intrigued--and in lust--he can’t help pursuing her. But things are never simple when gods are involved.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEve Langlais
    Release dateJun 28, 2013
    ISBN9781927459393
    Date With Death: Welcome To Hell, #3
    Author

    Eve Langlais

    New York Times and USA Today bestseller, Eve Langlais, is a Canadian romance author who is known for stories that combine quirky storylines, humor and passion.

    Read more from Eve Langlais

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      Book preview

      Date With Death - Eve Langlais

      Introduction

      She never expected to fall in love with Death.

      Marigold has a date with Death, but when she foils his plan to take her soul back to Hell, she invites him to dinner instead.

      Mictain, a former Aztec god who collects souls for Satan, is baffled at his interest in the plump witch who can see him. Intrigued, and in lust, he can’t help

      pursuing

      her

      .

      But things are never simple when gods are involved.

      Lucifer, Lord of Hell, tries to warn him away, and even Marigold’s long-lost father decides to butt in. Yet, despite the opposition, things heat up between them, and Marigold learns that when Death comes calling, it’s best to get naked and invite him into bed—and her heart.

      Welcome to Hell

      1

      Fuck him! Crumpling up the offending parchment, Lucifer tossed it in the air, and with the twitch of a finger, ignited the missive that put him in a

      foul

      mood

      .

      Lowering her e-reader to peek at Lucifer, Gaia, his currently on-again girlfriend, said, "I didn’t know you swung

      that

      way

      ."

      I don’t. I meant it figuratively, not literally.

      Ooh, big words. Has someone been brushing up on his vocabulary?

      Mouthy wench. Lucifer shot Gaia a dirty look. Aren’t you the funny one this morning.

      Funny? Me? She batted her lashes in an attempt at innocence that failed. I was just impressed with your oral skills.

      "I prefer it when you scream about them,

      not

      mock

      ."

      "Noted. So, who do you want

      to

      fuck

      ?"

      A shudder went through him as the vulgar word slipped past her lips. Hearing Mother Earth cuss always turned him on. "I always want to

      fuck

      you

      ."

      Are we talking figuratively or literally this time? She tossed him a

      sassy

      grin

      .

      He growled, a sound that always sent his minions scurrying.

      Not Gaia. She laughed. "It never hurts to ask. Last time I told you to kiss my

      ass

      ,

      you

      —

      "

      Dropped to my knees and did it with pleasure. His girlfriend did have the most delightfully plump posterior. Lucifer leered at her, but she missed the suggestive glance having gone back to her book. Such impertinence. Only she dared treat him like a man instead of an almighty deity. "I swear he does these things to throw my

      game

      off

      ."

      Who, dear? Gaia absently asked as he paced the foot of an ornate, four poster bed—also known as the nest of original sin, at least according to the monthly publication, Hell and Garden. "And what did he dare do to rouse the renowned temper of the great and mighty lord

      of

      Hell

      ?"

      Out puffed Lucifer’s chest. He never could resist a compliment. Who else but that has-been god whose name I refuse to utter. Because the more someone believed and spoke about a deity, the stronger they became. Power came to those with worshippers. This energy boost was the main reason Lucifer enjoyed stirring up trouble on the mortal side. Nothing like keeping his name in the news, and bandied about in churches, for a magical rush. The bastard has been taunting me with our upcoming golf match.

      "Taunted you? How in the pit did he manage that because last I heard you bellow, you weren’t on speaking terms

      with

      him

      ."

      I’m not. But my spies say he’s been running his mouth.

      "As

      have

      you

      ."

      That’s different.

      Of course it is. She rolled her forest green eyes. "We all know the universe revolves

      around

      you

      ."

      He chose to ignore the sarcasm in her tone to focus on the truth. Usually a dirty word, but in this case, apt. "I know it does. Which is why I’ve got a plan to get

      him

      back

      ."

      "Does it involve killing him, maiming him, or starting an

      interdimensional

      war

      ?"

      No. No violence, at least on my part. Lucifer paused his pacing to ask her with a most serious mien, Do you think this means I’m losing my touch? Did the fact he didn’t plan murder and mayhem say something about him as Lord

      of

      Sin

      ?

      Gaia put aside her electronic device and gazed at him. Oh, I’d say your touch has never been better. She winked as she licked her lips. Instant boner. You know I find a finely-tuned, eloquent revenge so much more satisfying than a plain old war. Sexier too. You know how I love it when you get devious. She purred the

      last

      bit

      .

      And she was right. He did know how much Gaia enjoyed subtle revenge. The whole world did. When Lucifer rocked Gaia’s world, she rocked the mortal one. Blame his incredible prowess for the plight of mankind—when the bed started knocking, the earth got a shaking. Sucked for the humans, but here in Hell, it just served to enhance his reputation.

      Booyah!

      Back to his nemesis, though. Time to set the plan in motion. He had an opponent to frazzle and a golf game

      to

      win

      .

      2

      Only one ingredient to go. Marigold dangled the last bit over the boiling cauldron and began reciting the words to the spell that would grant her something she’d longed for all her life. A prize without compare that modern cosmetics promised but never cured—getting rid of her bloody freckles.

      Giddy with anticipation, she took a deep breath and continued her chant. Hair of the divine beast, grant me the wish I seek. Corny, but then again, she’d not created the spell. She held the glimmering unicorn hair over the bubbling brew, a frothy concoction she didn’t really want to drink because it smelled and looked icky, but drink it she would if it would help. Down drifted the glimmering strand and it sank in the potion with an ominous sizzle.

      Hmm, I hope it doesn’t do that when I

      swallow

      it

      .

      Using her wooden spoon, she stirred the concoction as it bubbled and steamed. When the prescribed sixty seconds passed, Marigold opened her mouth to say the words to invoke the spell when she heard a rustle of fabric.

      Whirling from her stove, and the vile brew, she noticed a cloaked figure standing at the edge of the candlelight, a scythe in

      one

      hand

      .

      Seeing as how she’d locked her door and lived on the eighth floor, his presence didn’t bode well. Who the hell are you? she asked. As an added precaution, she snatched her ritual dagger and brandished it in front

      of

      her

      .

      You can see me? Judging by his tone, the hooded stranger seemed taken aback.

      Well, duh, she replied, rolling her eyes. "You’re, like, standing right in front of me. I’m not bloody blind,

      you

      know

      ."

      But you’re not supposed to see me. Again with the incredulity. Welcome to the club. He thought she shouldn’t see him, and she thought he shouldn’t be there. That made them even of

      a

      sort

      .

      Not only can I see you, but I’d like to know just how the heck you got in here? The doors to Marigold’s apartment were not just locked, she’d spelled them as well. So how had he gotten in without setting off any of her alarms? Maybe he was a demon. Or a

      ghost

      ,

      or

      ...

      Death cannot be hindered by a mere mortal lock, he announced pompously with a wave of the scythe. The stranger had an accent, which despite the strange circumstance, Marigold

      found

      hot

      .

      Death? Marigold giggled. Oh, come now. You’re not big or scary enough to be him. At just over six feet, or so she gauged, while wide of shoulder, her visitor lacked the ominous presence and stature she’d always imagined a true god

      would

      have

      .

      A growl emerged from the cowl shadowing his face. "I might not be the actual Lord of Death, but I am one of his lieutenants. Now, do you mind stopping the idle chit-chatter and getting on with what you were doing? I’ve got other appointments

      to

      keep

      ."

      But Marigold’s mother, despite her ditzy

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