Page 71 of Grave Humor

“Me again. It’s one of my charms. How do you like the house?”

“I want you to light it on fire after we make certain there’s nothing important left in it,” I grumbled.

“Well, I am the devil, and I care nothing for mortal laws, and I can incinerate it to its foundations with a single snap of my fingers. Snappity snap! I could be talked into such a thing.”

“I will say nice things about you to your wife,” I offered. “She might not kill you when I’m finished.”

“That is a very convincing argument, I must admit.”

Yep, the devil was whipped by a cat. “Has she relented about permitting you to count her spots?”

“No,” Lucy whined.

“Stop upsetting her, and maybe she’ll let you count her spots.”

“But she gets so lively when she’s annoyed with me. If I am particularly evil, her tail poofs and she hisses at me.”

“You only have yourself to blame,” I replied, gesturing for him to get out of the way so we could escape the basement. “This place is even worse than I thought it would be.”

“Yes, it does seem to be rather odiferous, and there are corpses in your basement.”

“If there are more corpses than the raccoons, frankly, I don’t want to know about them.” I considered the house, where my parents might leave anything of value, and headed for their bedroom upstairs. Like the basement stairs, the steps creaked. “Eoghan, stay down there with Lucy. I’m not sure they’ll hold your weight. No wonder they weren’t here. They were probably waiting for the place to come down around their ears. What did they do to the house? It wasn’t this bad a few years ago, I swear.”

“The roof leaks. By leaks, I mean there are more holes in it than roof,” the devil replied. “A storm tore it up and they didn’t bother to fix it. You didn’t check the roof yesterday—or any of the other times you’ve come around here since you moved out.”

Huh. He was right. I hadn’t bothered to look up. “Well, that sucks.”

“Demolition will be much cheaper for you should you put in some honest effort to convince my wife she should let me count her spots.”

“That’s all I am promising, and it’s not my problem if she refuses.”

“Bargain made. Is this afternoon good for coffee?”

“If she’s coming here and wants to sit in the back yard, sure. You can play waiter and bring us coffee and treats. Pampering your wife may help encourage her to allow you to count her spots.”

“People keep telling me that, but I’m the devil. I have a reputation to maintain. Do you know how much pride I lost when I had to get on my knees and beg?”

I raised a brow at that, doubting the devil could be brought down to his knees by anyone. I climbed the stairs, and the devil teleported to join me in the hallway. “I don’t want to know. Why are you following me up here?”

“When the floor collapses in the one room up here, I figured I would earn some gratitude from your man, who is pacing downstairs, well aware you are walking around in a death trap.”

Okay. I could take a hint. I turned around and headed back down the stairs. “If there’s anything useful in any of those rooms up there, fetch. I’ll toss in a few extra nice comments to your wife, including how you spared me from falling through a floor today.”

The devil laughed. “I am pleased to note you are developing a sense of self-preservation. Well done.”

Eoghan raised a brow. “You believe him?”

“I really don’t want to find out if he’s yanking my chain. I would—”

Crack.

“I’m okay!” the devil called out.

“I see there is wisdom in your path of caution. I apologize for doubting your acceptance of his claim.”

I giggled. “When a being who can look into the future at his will tells me the floor will collapse after informing me the roof has been trashed and the entire house is rotting, I’m going to believe him. I’m not stupid.”

“You present a valid point. I will pay penance for my unfortunate mistake and general lapse of common sense.”