Til Death

Divorce Demon Style

‘Til Death
Published by Book View Café in conjunction with Lucky Foot Press 2023
ISBN 978-1-944756-08-6

eBook: Book View Cafe | Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | Barnes & Noble

A truthseeing demon is never wrong, with the notable exception of Traci. Her losing streak starts when she discovers her fated mate. After she tells the gorgeous demon they are meant to be, he laughs in her face. Humiliated, she rebounds to what she thinks is true love with a human man. Wrong again. After a few years of wedded bliss, he calls it quits.

But there’s just one little hitch.

Traci and her husband vowed “until death do us part,” which means, according to demon divorce court, one of them has to die. Or…Traci can choose door number two and become a reaper. Trouble is, her new bosshole is the same death demon who previously ripped her heart out. And now Mister Mates-Are-For-Idiots claims to want a second chance.

Well, Reaper Traci’s no idiot, and she’d just as soon rip his heart out than take another chance on him.

Chapter 1

“What are we doing here, Traci?”
Paul’s impatience and fury shouldn’t have hurt. That was her fault, Traci supposed. She’d fallen in love with him after all, and she’d known better. Not that she still loved him. Maybe she never had. Maybe he was just safe. Mostly what she felt now came from habit and wishfulness and having to figure out what she wanted to do next. Not to mention the damage to her pride.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Underneath his irritation was fear, and she couldn’t blame him for that, either. Brimstone burned in massive stone bowls set throughout the waiting area and filled the air with soothing black smoke and sweet sulfur. It turned his eyes bloodshot and sweat trickled down his temples.

Traci breathed in deeply, savoring the scent and trying to calm herself.
“You wanted a divorce,” she said again, knowing he wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

“We are divorced,” he snapped back, shifting uneasily when a red-skinned Aefir entered and perched on the wide edge of a tall, fluted fire bowl. The skin demon turned to let her wings and tail sink into the column of flames and drew a paperback out of her purse. She crossed her legs and quickly found where she’d left off and began reading.

“What is that?” Paul hissed out of the side of his mouth.

Traci noticed that his gaze was fixed on the Aefir’s three sets of round breasts, nipples puckered and pointed. Traci rolled her eyes. Just like him. “She’s an Aefir. And we are only half divorced. Your half. My half happens here. Otherwise it isn’t legal.”

He turned to face her, his thick, dark brows meeting above his nose. “We are done, Traci. We’re not getting back together. I’ve moved on.”

“You moved on long before we split up,” she pointed out, then mentally kicked herself. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring any of that up. She didn’t want him knowing how much it still pained her. Humiliated her. She drew a slow breath. “For the record, I don’t want you back. I want a complete divorce. I want to be entirely free before I move on.” She looked away from him, smoothing the fabric of her pencil skirt. “You’re just lucky I didn’t go the traditional route.”

“Traditional route?” he repeated in that disdainful tone that he’d taken to using with her. Like she was inflicting her unwanted self on him. She supposed that was true enough. This wasn’t like him. He was generally kind and generous with a large heart. Guilt made him want to lash out, make it her fault, somehow, so that he could escape the weight of his personal disgrace. That he cheated. That he hurt her. That he broke all the rules and morals he held so
sacred. Or had. Being here reminded him he was not absolved and never would be. The only way to cure his guilt was to take it away, and no one could do that.

“Ripping your heart out with my bare hand.”

She held up said hand, letting the human morphing fall away until her own long, graceful fingers were revealed. Dark talons curved to points from the tips of the seven digits. Her skin shone a healthy, dusky plum. She turned her wrist, admiring herself. Her human guise was so plain. All bland pinks and beiges. But Paul had wanted that. He’d not have loved her as a demon. If he had loved her. She’d thought so, but then he’d gone and had a baby with another woman.

Would it have made a difference if she’d given him a child? Traci had considered it, but he’d always said he didn’t want to share her with a demanding infant. Demon babies, even half bloods, were notoriously difficult. Of course, he hadn’t known what she was, but he’d claimed sex with her was mind-blowing, and a baby would ruin that and ruin her body and he’d been so
determined not to let either happen. And then he’d changed his mind. Traci still didn’t know why, and it irritated her that she cared. He wasn’t worth it. She knew that, and yet she couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t been enough.

Truthfully, sex as a human was incredible. Demon bodies didn’t have as many nerve endings and didn’t have the capacity to feel pleasure—or pain—like a human did. She had to concede that that pleasure had blinded her to the flaws in their marriage. No, that wasn’t true. It had given her an excuse not to see.
Truth mattered. She’d wanted to forget that, but being home brought it back like a slap.

“What the hell?” he stuttered now, straining back against the back of his seat, his gaze locked on her exposed hand. She smiled, and then realized that he hadn’t been making a joke. “While I agree that this situation is very much hell, in fact the place is a myth.”

“No—your hand—what the fuck?” He launched to his feet, putting distance between them.

Traci frowned and lowered her hand to her lap. “You know very well I’m not human. It’s why we’ve come here. I explained all this.”

“But you look human.”

“I’ve chosen to, for you. For your comfort,” she added acidly. Because everything was always about him and his comfort. She was beginning to thing all males were the same.

“Well, put yourself back the way you were,” he said, waving at her exposed hand. “That’s— Just put it back.”

Annoyed, Traci did no such thing. “I’d rather not.” He seemed not to have noticed that she’d threatened to tear his heart out. Probably just as well if they wanted to keep this business reasonably civil. Paul swore and pushed his fingers through his hair. The black waves held threads of silver, making him look distinguished, and lending him an air of gravity and wisdom that his thirty-three spans didn’t deserve. He was fit and handsome, his body bulky with muscle, his face square, with gray eyes. Tan skin wrapped him like velvet. He liked the outdoors, rock climbing, hiking, biking the hills. Traci had, too. She wondered if his new mate liked those things as well, or if she was softer, a baker of cookies maybe, or a teacher.

“God, I feel like I don’t even know you,” he said.

“Then we’re in the same boat,” she shot back.

“Oh, I think I’ve got the worse end of the deal. You’re a demon. I’ve been screwing a monster for five years.”

“And liking it,” Traci retorted, hurt and fury bursting like fireworks in her chest.

He nodded reluctantly. “The sex was good.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. “Okay, it was great. Incredible.”
Which meant his new mate gave him more than good sex. Better. But what? A baby? She would have given him that. Traci quashed the question. She had to stop wondering, and she sure as fuck wouldn’t ask. After all, he’d chosen to cheat rather than discuss it, and now it was far too late.

More demons came in off the elevators. Some wore human guises, others came in their own forms. They wandered in, checking in with reception, and taking seats. Paul sat on the bench again, careful to leave several feet of brown leather couch between them. “Is everyone here for a divorce?” he asked quietly, his eyes darting to the crowd of yellow-and-red striped Filiel demons who squabbled loudly with one another.

“Probably not. This court deals with all sorts of bonding contracts. Mating is just one of them.”
From what she could hear from the bickering Filiels, they were working on a litter agreement, which would involve tribal negotiations, family arbitration, and custody and endowment settlements. Good thing she and Paul had an early appointment. The judge might be tied up for days with the complicated details of a Filiel birthing contract.

“What exactly is the court going to do with us?”

“The judge will rule if our mating can be broken, and what payments and offerings are required,” Traci said. “He’ll have reviewed our wedding ceremony and vows.”

“If our mating can be broken? If?” And then he processed the rest. “Payments and offerings? Like alimony or—?” His voice had risen, and he strove to keep himself calm. Red splotches rose to his cheeks and he stared at her demon hand.

Well, so he’d heard the bit about tearing his heart out after all. Good.
“It is probably just a formality,” Traci said, though she was none too certain. She’d not gone through the court in establishing her human world marriage. She had filed the proper notice and paid the fees. When Paul had given her the divorce papers, she’d sent in the paperwork to the court, hoping that would be that. But then both she and Paul had received a court summons.

She smiled inwardly. She’d have liked to be there when he opened it.
She glanced at his forearm where the court’s sigil burned black. Impossible to hide, it burned through fabric when he tried to cover it. He’d been panicked and furious when he’d showed up at her apartment demanding explanations. She gave them, and then they’d immediately set out for the courthouse to settle the business before either his uptight and correct employer, or Kimberly—Paul’s new mate—could discover the demon mark.

“How come you didn’t get stuck with a demon tattoo?” Paul asked suddenly, his gaze falling to her arms. “Is it because I’m human? I’m the bad guy?”
Traci didn’t bother telling him that being human didn’t make him a bad guy, cheating on his wife and having a baby with his lover did. She drew in her breath to explain that she did have a mark of sorts but was saved from the reply by the arrival of the receptionist.

“His Righteousness will see you now,” the Cormoa whispered in silky soft tones. Her orange nictating membranes fluttered across her sulfur eyes. Hunger wafted from her skin. Cormoas were always hungry, insatiably so.
Paul stepped around the back of the couch to avoid coming any closer to the graceful demon.

Traci bowed to the Cormoa. “Speed and success,” she said by way of a thank you.

Speed to the hunt and success to the kill. Though Paul would not be the day’s prey. She hoped. No matter how badly they’d ended, she didn’t wish him harm. At least not irreparable harm. A little suffering would be acceptable. But the demon court would not care about her feelings, hurt or otherwise. It merely cared about the contract.

“Generosity and becoming,” the Cormoa said in response.

Traci tipped her head in surprise. She didn’t recognize the salutation, nor did she understand its meaning. It was impolite to ask, so she just followed the Cormoa’s sashaying glide through the hall and under the columned archway. At the far end of the hallway waited a set of double doors, their tall shapes outlined in bright yellow light.

“The court will see you now. May you both have justice and fulfillment.” With that, the Cormoa looked again at Paul, then whisked silently away. Fulfillment. The word left Traci hollow. She had not been fulfilled since before Paul had left
her. They’d continued having sex, but he’d been elsewhere. His heart had been elsewhere. She’d not acknowledged that until much later, until he’d moved out and the papers had come. That hurt her pride. How she’d missed what was in front of her face was both a mystery and a point of ignominy.

If she were truthful with herself—and she needed to be—she hadn’t been fulfilled since before she married Paul. He’d been her attempt at filling the gaping void left by— Traci winced and shoved the thought away. She wasn’t going to even think his name or allow his face to intrude into her memories. She focused on the here and now.

She and Paul walked down the stone hallway. Mahogany obsidian swirled copper and black beneath their feet. White marble columns and tall bronze vases full of brimstone fire lined the matching walls. Smoke billowed and collected in clouds overhead.

Traci could smell Paul’s fear. “It’ll be fine,” she said, unable to keep from comforting him, even now. “Tell the truth. You’ve done nothing wrong.”“I cheated on you,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean much here.”
That stopped him. Traci stopped too, turning to face him.
“We don’t want to be late,” she said.
“I cheated on you.”
It was the first time he’d really acknowledged it. Somehow that made her feel better. At least he knew he’d done something wrong.
“Why doesn’t that mean anything?”
She shrugged. “Because it doesn’t. It didn’t exactly mean anything to the human court, either. No fault divorce, right?”
“Then why are we here?”
Traci turned and started walking again. “To dot the i’s and cross the t’s I suppose.”
“People don’t have go to court for that. Lawyers file all that.”
“No lawyers in this court.”
He laughed. The sound was tight but held real amusement. “Aren’t all lawyers supposed to be demon spawn?”

Traci smiled back, glad for the normalcy of the exchange. Just like they used to. She missed that. That easy talking and laughing. Maybe more than she missed him. That friendship.

That closeness when they could nearly read each other’s thoughts.
“That’s another human myth. The demons who are lawyers only practice in the human realm. There’s no place for them among the tribes.”
“Tribes?”
Traci shrugged. “It’s not important.” At least not to him. Besides the tangled politics of the demon world would be impossible to explain in a few words, or even ten thousand. “There’s no work for lawyers here.” Because judges didn’t need them to know the truth. Just ahead, white smoke billowed up from the floor, forming an impenetrable bank.
Paul halted. “What the hell?”
“It’s for purification,” she explained. The smell was pleasant enough by human standards. Sage, wind, cardamom, grass, salt, a hint of jasmine. “Remove your clothes and step through. Beyond this point, you must not be false in any way. If you are, the judge will know.”
She stepped out of her heels and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her feet. Her blouse went next, then her bra, panties, stockings, and jewelry. When she was completely naked, she looked at Paul, who stared at her in sheer disbelief.
“You’d better hurry,” Traci advised. “The judge will not tolerate tardiness.”
She didn’t wait to see whether he would comply or not. She left her things and stepped into the smoke. As she did, she let go of her human shape. No falsehoods permitted here. Would it have made a difference, she wondered, if she had turned her truthsight on Paul?

She had chosen not to. Ha! That was a lie. She’d not made any choices at all. She’d realized her truthsight was faulty and therefore pointless. She’d slipped into the human world where it didn’t matter. Nobody could see the truth. Everyone relied on pure faith when it came to relationships.
Traci had desperately desired someone to make her whole. She’d wanted someone to trust, to believe in. She’d wanted to know without knowing. It was a treasure most humans could never truly appreciate. To never have the means to be certain, and yet be certain anyhow. To believe in someone and have that belief met with steadfastness and durability. It was a gift she’d cherished.

Stupidly.

Paul had been a hollow man after all. Fickle and substantial as sugar in the rain. A shudder ran through her, followed by a prickling sensation. A warning from the smoke that she wasn’t being fully honest.
Her eyes squeezed shut. She had wanted to trust Paul. She had wanted to believe in him and his love, but that wasn’t why she’d rejected using truthsight. The fact was she couldn’t trust it.

The prickling sensation returned, this time painful. It would only grow more so. She had to face all of the truth, not just the little she could bear. She had to face what she’d run from; she had to face her own inadequacy. More than that, she had to accept it, but the scars of her failure were still so very painful.
Traci bowed her head, feeling the weight of shame rolling through her. She’d been stupid.

Too confident. Too gullible. Too blind. Too sure.

There are moments in everyone’s past that burn with unbearable infection. Moments that you try to forget and merely brushing the edge of one makes you want to curl up in the dark and hide from yourself. You feel horrified at yourself. Perhaps you were weak, arrogant, cruel, or worse. You run from the those memories—the knowledge of who you are and what you are capable of. You come to a point when you begin to feel confident and safe. Then out of
nowhere, memory strikes like a viper and once again, the poison makes you feel like you’re dying, but you will not be so lucky.
Traci had no place left to hide. All she could do was look inward and see herself.
She stepped out of the smoke, feeling like she’d climbed a mountain of fire. Her muscles trembled. The ache she felt was a wound on her soul. She’d made a mistake, one that broke her confidence in herself and shattered her understanding of who she was and what she was meant to be. That mistake drove her to panic. In desperation she’d sought a solution in Paul, but even
when she married him, she’d known. He was not the one. She’d chosen wrong again.

In the end, the hard fact was that her truthsight had not failed. She had failed to understand what it told her. More than that, she’d believed her misreading was true and real in every cell of her being.

Except it wasn’t. She’d been utterly wrong. And if she could be so wrong about her true mate, then how could she possibly be trusted to provide justice in a court of law? Every judge had a story of meeting their mate, of that moment of recognition. Never had there been a story of a truthseer having that recognition, only to find out they were wrong.

And if she was wrong once, why not be wrong again?

Had she loved Paul? Or had she just relished his attention and passionate protestations of love? She’d never tested herself to find out for certain, but standing in the smoke where she could no longer lie, she’d acknowledged that she had no need to test their bond. He was not her true mate, the one who she would bond with, the one who would serve as her touchstone. A point of fixed truth in a world of shifting perspectives and wrong beliefs. Traci would never again trust her truthsight, and because of that, she had no idea who or
what she was supposed to be. She’d cared about Paul. Certainly she’d convinced herself she loved him. She’d yearned for him, for his smile and his touch. Being with him had made her dizzy with joy. Discovering he’d bedded another woman and made her pregnant—

It hadn’t hurt the way it ought to have, she thought, scrutinizing those feelings as if they’d happened to someone else. Shock, yes. Humiliation, yes. Betrayal, certainly. There had been hurt as well, but looking back, it was more like a part she’d played, a role she’d invented for herself. Maybe her entire relationship to Paul had been a role. In the end, it was her pride that hurt more than her feelings.

Traci tucked that thought away to consider later as Paul stumbled through the smoke. She eyed him. He’d lost his tan and his eyes were wide with something akin to terror. What had he seen? What truths had he unlocked? She didn’t ask. Such things were private.

The rest of him looked the same as always. Lean body, muscular, but with a soft layer of good living over it. He stopped and tottered backward several steps as he caught sight of her.

His mouth gaped. Traci stood still while he took her in, his gaze sweeping up and down and side to side. She was considered beautiful among her tribe. The vivid plum color of her forearms melded into black along her upper arms, then shifted to lavender along her back and belly, and back to black and plum on her legs. Her hair was long and black, sweeping around her buttocks
like starched silk. Her wings were feathered, the ebony cut through with stems and vanes of silver. Chevrons of silver V’d down between her sharply swept brows. From just within her hairline, four-inch pearl horns pointed up and slightly out.

Her body was muscular, her skin softer than a human baby’s, though much stronger. No human blade or bullet could pierce her. Her breasts were small, and she only had two, unlike the Aefir’s bounty. Hooked barbs sprouted from her shoulders, elbow, wrists, and heels. Scales ran down the center of her back and belly and along the outside of her thighs and calves. Talons tipped her fingers and toes.
“That’s what you really look like?” Paul rasped, finding his voice.
“It would seem so,” Traci said, not liking the emphasis on the word that. Like she was a thing or an animal. Perhaps to him she was. Her nostrils flared and her chin lifted. She smiled, watching him recoil from the predatory points of her teeth. “Are you ready to continue?”
He swallowed hard and gave an uncertain nod. “What happens now?”
“We see the judge.”
She started away.
“Wait!” He jumped in front of her. “I shouldn’t have to be here. I didn’t know what you were. I married you under human rules.”
“That’s true.”
He waited for more. She said nothing.
“So I should be able to leave now,” he said, brows rising as if to ask her permission. “My being here is obviously a mistake.”
“You can certainly explain to the judge.”
“That you tricked me into marriage? That I didn’t get to make an informed decision? Is that even against demon rules? Isn’t that what all of you are supposed to do? Lead humans to commit acts of immorality and—” He swallowed jerkily and his voice turned gravelly as his gaze swept over her. “And bestiality?”
Traci considered him, once again wondering if she’d really loved him. She’d wanted to so that she could believe in herself again. Since that hadn’t happened, she must not have loved him. The corner of her mouth quirked as his words registered. Paul thought fucking her was bestiality. If he only knew what the demon world thought of humans. Not beasts, but toys. Things to be used and played with and tossed aside. Useful in their entertainment value, and disposable as used tissue. He had a right to be concerned about how he’d be treated in the court. On the one hand, he wasn’t important enough to pay much attention to. On the other hand, his lack of importance made it more likely the court would kill him to solve any sticky legal matters.

‘Til death do us part.

An unfortunate turn of phrase and one she tried to avoid. She’d been careful about her vows. As a truthseer with an expectation of eventually becoming a judge, she’d entered early into contract studies. She’d quickly learned that the fewer requirements someone contracted to do, the better their position in a dispute. She and Paul had written their own vows and out of habit, she’d limited the scope of hers as much as she could.

Not that she’d ever expected their marriage to end, particularly not in a divorce. Her father would call her naïve. No, he’d call her stupid. He’d be right either way.

“Do you remember your vows?” she asked Paul.
He blinked, his forehead creasing. “Is this really the time to bring this up? I know I promised to love and cherish you for the rest of our lives, but I fell in love with someone else. I didn’t mean or expect to, but I did. I’m sorry that you had to get hurt, but it is what it is. You need to let it go and move on.”

This time he didn’t tell her she was beautiful and smart and that she wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone else as he had when he told her he’d found another woman and that she was carrying his child. He’d repeated it every time he spoke to her after that, no doubt to assuage his guilt. If he didn’t leave lasting damage, then he wasn’t a bad guy. Now that he’d seen her true form, he clearly no longer believed his own lie. Maybe he never had. Maybe that’s what he’d confronted when coming through the smoke. How many other truths had he discovered? Not that he’d accept responsibility for any of his lies and deceptions. Paul preferred the fictional version of himself. Traci had as well, but it was time to accept reality and figure out what to do from there.
One thing for certain, she was done seeking a mate.
“Traci?” Paul’s scowl deepened as she stood lost in thought. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Of course.”
“And you’re just going to stand there staring at me like an idiot?”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
He flushed. “I wasn’t talking about me.”
She smiled, showing her teeth. “Of course not.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
His discomfort had begun to amuse her. Her smile widened. “The judge is waiting.”
With that, she walked off down the corridor.
“You have a tail.” Paul sounded outraged, as if it her tail was a personal insult.
Traci whipped it slowly back and forth and let that be her reply.

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