Original Sin: Sinners & Saints, #8

By Rosalie Stanton

The greatest lie the devil ever told was to himself.

The first time Lucifer fell in love, things ended badly. People were killed, lives were destroyed, and the world was nearly annihilated. Twice. Suffice to say, falling in love is a mistake he's determined to never repeat. 

Even with someone like Eden Greene—a human who, despite knowing his identity, is unimpressed, unafraid, and unwilling to cut him any slack. She makes him feel things he hasn't in eons. Desperate to protect himself, Lucifer erases Eden's memories of him and their time together before returning to Hell to lick his wounds.

Eight months later, his friend Jehovah still insists letting Eden go was foolish, and puts an unwitting Lucifer on a path that forces him back into Eden's life. Only now, Lucifer finds he doesn't want to walk away…and the more time they spend together, the harder he falls.

Lucifer knows he won't be able to keep the truth from Eden for long, but there's no good way to tell the woman he loves that he stole her memories. Especially knowing that returning those memories might be what finally makes Eden realize what it means to sleep with the devil.

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Buffy meets Good Omens. A tale of devils, angels, demons, and everything in between. Product may include sacrilegious humor, irreverent beliefs and explicit, too-hot-for-prime-time adult scenes.

This series is best enjoyed when read in order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rosalie Stanton
• Release date: Aug 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393964384

Rosalie Stanton

Rosalie Stanton is a multi-published erotic romance author, with emphasis in paranormal and urban fantasy. A lifelong enthusiast of larger than life characters, Rosalie enjoys building worlds filled with strong heroes and heroines of all backgrounds. Rosalie lives in Missouri with her husband. At an early age, she discovered a talent for creating worlds, which evolved into a love of words and storytelling. Rosalie graduated with a degree in English. As the granddaughter of an evangelical minister, Rosalie applied herself equally in school in the creative writing and religious studies departments, which had an interesting impact on her writing. When her attention is not engaged by writing or editing, she enjoys spending time with close friends and family. Rosalie is represented by Tish Beaty at the L. Perkins Agency.

Book preview

1

I can hear you feeling sorry for yourself all the way from Heaven.

Lucifer dragged his gaze from the memo that had crossed his desk and looked at Jev, who was leaning against his office doorframe. Great. Just what he needed. Another unsolicited pep talk. By all means, he said, looking down again, let yourself in.

You did say the invitation was a standing one.

And I suppose it’s too late to rescind that now.

Jev chuckled and pushed off the doorframe to stroll into the room. After so many years of begging me to visit, you have an interesting way of making me feel welcome.

Lucifer inhaled a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. What are you doing here? he asked after a moment. I don’t believe we had an appointment on the books.

We didn’t, though I would like to see how the new project is progressing.

The new project meaning the complete and total restructuring of Hell—something that Lucifer had advocated since the beginning of time.

This much was a huge concession on Jev’s part, and one, Lucifer hated to admit, that would have been impossible without Lilith. His deranged ex-wife had drained the Hell’s Registration, flooding Earth with the burned, hollowed-out husks of the souls of the damned. And Jev, upon seeing what eons of torment had reduced Hell’s prisoners to, had opted to destroy them rather than send them back for more. Now with the Lake of Fire dried up, Lucifer and Jev had workshopped alternative methods of punishing the wicked while allowing the damned the chance to graduate to a less painful plane of existence.

The short-term had the souls of the newly deceased confined to windowless rooms where, upon the walls, played an endless loop of the decisions and actions that had directly impacted the happiness or well-being of another person. Like being stuck with the Ghost of Christmas Past, only without the possibility of waking up. This new form of punishment was paired with biweekly visits from Hell’s very first social workers. Should the damned show signs of actual remorse, they would be allowed to socialize with others. If they tried to harm anyone, their sentence would extend.

The end goal was to allow the souls who demonstrated penitence to eventually integrate into something resembling human society again. This meant overhauling the rest of Hell—policing the demons as he never had before and establishing some sort of rule of order. In the past, Lucifer had been very lax with the demon population, trusting that the Sins and Pixley would keep the true insurgents from causing too much trouble. But that sort of thinking hadn’t been fair to them and had likely contributed to so many demons succumbing to the Gospel of Lilith.

The new project is outside, Lucifer said at last. You won’t be able to see much from in here.

Well, I have another reason for visiting.

Of course he did. I am on the edge of my seat.

I think you should consider joining a grief support group.

Pardon?

A grief support group, Jev repeated, navigating deeper into the room. You aren’t allowing yourself to mourn.

And you are prone to seeing what you want to see.

Implying that I want you to be a sad sack with no sense of fun? You have barely moved since she died.

Lucifer jerked his head up, a pulse of anger shooting through him. Since she was killed, you mean. Since I killed her. You’ll forgive me if murdering my ex-wife didn’t put me in a fun mood.

You haven’t been yourself in more than twenty years, Jev replied, his voice annoyingly steady and calm. If he’d been yelling and irrational, Lucifer would have at least had an excuse to chuck him out of his office. "You can hardly blame all of that on what you had to do last April. And stop being dramatic. You didn’t murder anyone."

You’re splitting hairs.

No. By definition, murder is premeditated. If there was one thing Lilith’s death wasn’t, it was premeditated. A beat. Vengeful fantasies don’t count.

So you’re going to quibble over semantics. How mature.

Luc, you always get extra defensive when you know I’m right. Jev paused in front of Lucifer’s desk, then leaned over it, bracing his weight on his knuckles. Your answer to everything to do with Lilith has always been to shut down and shove people out. She ruled your decisions in life—I’d hate to see that continue now that she’s gone.

Are you quite finished?

No. Jev rested one butt-cheek on the corner of the desk. Tell me you’ll seek out a grief support group.

This is ridiculous—

Ridiculous is you not admitting when other people have a point. I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. He released a deep breath, hanging his head. You can be just as stubborn as me.

Don’t sell yourself short. You are plenty more stubborn than I ever was.

But I genuinely believed my way was right. When it came to the way Hell was run, I thought we had a difference of opinion. I didn’t believe that I had it wrong, and that’s the difference between us. You know your way isn’t right, but you’re too afraid of what it means to change to give anything else a try.

Lucifer was quiet for a long moment, wrestling for a reply that would prove that Jev’s head was up his ass and end this conversation. There were reasons for doing the things he’d done, but he couldn’t deny that those reasons had seemed less convincing over the last few months. Since that day on the playground, when he’d held Lilith’s head between his hands and watched the life flicker out of her eyes, he’d retreated deeper within himself. The decision to kill her had been the right one, this he knew. It had just taken him a while to get there.

And that had nearly cost him everything.

I don’t miss her, he said at last, his voice barely audible to his own ears. Isn’t that one of the signs of grief? That you miss the person who’s gone?

I think when the person in question happens to be someone who haunted you throughout eternity, the equation is a bit different. Jev straightened, leaning back on his heels. The truth, Luc, is that we don’t know what it is to grieve—not really. The human perspective is one we can’t appreciate because the world as we know it is eternal. For us, grief doesn’t exist.

Lucifer was quiet a moment, considering. Grief exists for me. Lilith isn’t the first person I’ve said goodbye to.

Right, Jev said, drawing out the word, but she is tied to all your other losses. Because of her, your man Fugie was killed. And she murdered Pixley. All roads lead back to her. Your grief for both Fugie and Pixley can’t be separated from her. And maybe that is part of the reason you feel this way now. Had you acted sooner, they’d still be alive.

Thank you for that. It hadn’t crossed my mind.

No one here believes that.

Lucifer scowled at him, though it was true. If anything, his mind had been particularly brutal in mapping out how everything might have gone had he found the wherewithal to end Lilith’s life before. How many people he might have saved. And perhaps the last quarter of a century wouldn’t have been so damnably unbearable.

And if you’re paying attention, that’s my point, Jev continued. So please, shelve your pride for a few minutes and admit that you’re having a tough time moving past this.

Well, wouldn’t you?

Of course. And I’d hope that, were I in the same situation, I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to feel something else. I didn’t know how to broach the subject when she was alive, seeing as you had more or less anchored her to yourself. Moving on didn’t seem possible then. But it is now. Jev leaned over the desk again, splaying his hands across the surface. Lilith has been your entire existence up until now.

That’s—

True, and you know it. Every decision you’ve made has been in response to her. Creating the Sins—your substitute family. Eden Greene—

Don’t, Lucifer said, his voice weak to his own ears.

What? Remind you that the only memories you decided to erase were the ones involving you? Jev snickered. And why do you think that was, hmm? Not for her benefit at all. You were protecting yourself.

You don’t know what you’re talking about. Yet Lucifer couldn’t quite meet his eyes at the moment. In truth, he didn’t know what he felt for Eden Greene, the human who had accompanied him on a search for the antichrist. The antichrist that happened to be Lilith’s daughter and Eden’s best friend. Eden was the first human he’d spent any amount of time around since the beginning of time, and being that she wasn’t on his payroll, she’d held nothing back in their interactions. It had been refreshing—fun, even. He’d found himself liking her more than he was comfortable with, and when Lilith had tried to kill her, something inside him had shifted.

Without warning, his mind dragged him back to the front porch of a Georgetown brownstone, and the sensation of a warm female pressed against him, her mouth on his mouth, stirring sensations in a body that had all but forgotten what true intimacy felt like.

But that was the reason he’d taken her memories. He’d allowed her to keep her knowledge about the unseen world. About her friend, Lily’s, true identity and greater role in the universe. About the Sins and the existence of Heaven and Hell. But he’d taken the memories of their time together because a part of him had known he wouldn’t be able to let her live her life uninterrupted if they remained intact.

And what Jev hoped to accomplish by bringing her up, Lucifer had no clue. Unless he was mistaken, there were no support groups for adults who were hung up on someone they’d kissed once. Especially when said adult was the devil.

Lucifer snapped back to himself and shook his head. You don’t know what you’re talking about, he said again, firmer this time. As though he believed it.

Luc, you’re lying to yourself. Rather poorly, I might add.

Removing those memories was the kind thing to do. She didn’t need to be saddled with that. The words tasted like the bullshit they were, and he regretted them immediately. With the antichrist as her best friend, Eden would never have an uncomplicated, normal life, whether or not she remembered him.

The look Lucifer earned from Jev was a bit too smug.

My point has been made, Jev said, straightening again. Lilith might be gone, but as long as you let her keep this hold of hers on you, she will have won in some way. And since winning was all that mattered to her, I would think you’d be eager to make sure that she doesn’t. I don’t want her haunting you forever.

It’s been eight months—

Luc, it’s been twenty-four years. You’ve been in this mood ever since the business with the Seals, and it’s just gotten worse. A pause. "We’re restructuring Hell because of you. Because you were right, and I listened to you. Yes, it took me a long time to get there, but I got there. I’m asking you to do what you would have had me do since the beginning—accept the possibility that you might have it wrong."

Lucifer’s throat tightened. He was silent for a moment, knowing he’d lost this one but not quite ready to admit it. Eventually, a sigh rolled off his shoulders, and he felt himself sag under the weight he no longer wished to carry.

Grief support group might not be the answer, he said at last, again unable to maintain eye contact, something that annoyed him beyond words. It’s a human solution.

It’s a human coping mechanism. There is no solution to any of this. There’s just accepting it.

He nodded, gaze still fixed on his desk. And if I can’t?

I have faith enough in your rebellious spirit, Jev replied. You don’t want her to win, do you?

No. But I think she did.

That’s where you’re wrong. Jev waited until Lucifer looked up before he continued, a small smile on his face. She only wins when you stop fighting. And as long as I have a say in it, that day will never come.

Can’t just say ‘I told you so’ like a regular person, can you?

Jev tilted his head, his eyes twinkling. Annoying, isn’t it?

2

He regretted this already.

Lucifer drew in a deep breath and glanced around the room he’d been ushered into, which looked like it had been decorated by a caricature of a self-help guru. The light tan walls were affixed with varying motivational posters and a few crude drawings that bore messages such as, ‘Tears water our growth’ and ‘It’s okay to not be okay.’

If anyone asked him to hold hands and sing Kum Ba Yah, he was out of here. Forget whatever he’d promised Jev.

You must be our new addition, came a warm voice from the doorway.

Lucifer turned. The woman standing there wore a pleasant smile and had kind eyes, which had him berating himself for not managing to scrape up a more enthusiastic attitude. There were certain advantages to being a celestial being, one being that he could identify a truly decent soul just by looking at them. This woman was one such soul and didn’t deserve his bad mood. It wasn’t her fault Jev had suggested this.

I’m Megan Baxter, she said, stepping into the room. I coordinate the adult group. Nannette told me a bit about you, but I prefer to get to know my group members on my terms.

Lucifer inclined his head. Nice to meet you, Ms. Baxter.

Megan, please.

Megan, then. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. I’m Lucifer.

Those kind eyes of hers went a little wide. He didn’t blame her. He truly hadn’t meant to give her his real name, rather dredge up one of the faithful old standbys, such as Luc I. Pher. Wordplay rarely failed to make him grin, even if the Sins thought him corny.

Lucifer, Megan repeated, tucking a lock of graying blonde hair behind her ear. Nannette must not have mentioned your name, because I would’ve remembered that. That’s…ahh…certainly not a name you hear every day. Though I do remember hearing it a bit more since that old TV show.

He wasn’t sure which show she was referring to and didn’t feel inclined to ask, which was also not like him. Or not like the real him—the one buried under the past two decades of unending dung. The version of himself he’d been before Lilith had tried to end the world the first time had delighted in human portrayals of the divine.

Sorry, he said at last, rather lamely. I don’t know that show.

Megan shook her head and resurrected her smile. Well, Lucifer, I am very glad you’re here. Since this is your first time, please feel free to share as much or as little as you like. Or you can just listen. There are no hard and fast rules, and sometimes it takes our new members a few visits before they feel comfortable opening up.

Lucifer nodded again and tried for a smile. He was saved from having to come up with anything else to add by the arrival of the rest of the group, who filed in right after each other, some smiling and chatting, others somber and withdrawn. The furniture was arranged so that, once seated, the group would make up a circle. He parked himself in a surprisingly cushy chair directly across from the spot Megan had claimed and waited as everyone got settled. Altogether, there were twelve others—nine women and three men.

Too many people, in any case.

Welcome back, everyone, Megan said with a friendly smile. How was the last week?

Pretty good, volunteered one woman. Actually, one of the better ones I’ve had in a while.

Terrible, said another woman, grabbing one of the tissues stationed on the side-tables nestled between seats.

I’m sorry to hear that, Megan replied in a soft tone. Hopefully, being here will make it easier.

Other people just don’t understand, the woman continued before sniffing hard. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "I can’t be on all the time. I can’t turn it off. I can’t control when it hits me that he’s really gone."

Megan nodded, her brow furrowed, her mouth pulled into a compassionate frown. People who haven’t been where you are often don’t understand. Let’s go ahead and read the group guidelines, then get started on introductions. As you can see, we have a new member joining us tonight.

Lucifer manipulated his lips into what he hoped was a passable smile when the others took her observation as permission to stare at him.

There were ten group guidelines neatly typed on what looked to be poster-sized cardstock. One of the regulars hoisted the list into her lap and read aloud. Members must show up on time to every meeting. Members should be sober for the meeting. Members shouldn’t give advice unless advice is requested. Members shouldn’t dominate the conversation. Members must recognize everything said in the group is confidential. And so on and so on. Lucifer released a long breath, fighting back the restlessness that had him itching to get up and walk out. He was not made for human rules.

Thank you, Terri, Megan said as the woman placed the list of group guidelines behind her chair. So, we’re going to start with introductions as usual. I’ll go first. I’m Megan, I’m forty-seven, and I lost my wife to cervical cancer fourteen years ago. She nodded at the man seated to her left.

Grant, fifty-two. My wife and daughter were killed in a car crash three years ago.

Lucifer fought the urge to roll his head back. The meeting had only just started, and he was already more depressed than he had been when he’d arrived.

No one else in the room had the knowledge he did. How humanity didn’t cripple under the weight of its own grief left him flabbergasted.

My name is Luc, he said when the introductions circled to him. I am older than dirt. Eight months ago, I…lost my ex-wife and a good friend suggested I come here to talk about it. Though I am not sure what good it will do.

The understanding in Megan’s eyes remained absolute. It might not seem like it, but talking about these things does help you process them a bit more. You learn that the weird thoughts and feelings you have after a significant loss aren’t actually all that weird. The friend who recommended you come here has your best interest at heart.

Lucifer nodded. There, he had no doubts. Methodology aside, Jev’s intentions were pure as could be.

You say she was your ex-wife? said the man beside him, jarring him out of his thoughts. The person you lost?

Yes.

Were you still in love with her?

Definitely not.

But you’re here because she died, so you’re having trouble moving on?

He nodded, and was absurdly pleased when the man blinked as though attempting to solve a complex math problem.

I don’t get it, the man offered after a long minute.

People don’t always realize the former spouse loses the person as well, Megan said, her tone firm. Whether or not you were married at the time of her death, there were a lot of feelings left behind to be addressed. It’s not uncommon for surviving ex-spouses to take a loss hard. You may not feel like you have license to explore your grief.

No, he didn’t—that much was true. But that Lilith had been the former Mrs. Lucifer was just the tip of the planet-sized iceberg concerning her death.

It’s difficult to know how to feel when anyone close to us dies, Megan continued, turning her focus to the group. There are so many thoughts and emotions, and the way we’re told to grieve and how grief is portrayed in media is at odds with the actual grief experience. The range of emotions we feel can be overwhelming and hard to understand. She looked back to Lucifer. I’m glad you’re here with us.

His throat tightened. Lucifer again forced his lips to form a smile and favored the woman with a brief nod.

The focus shifted from him as introductions continued, during which time Lucifer continued to debate whether he was being stupid.

For the next few minutes, he drifted in and out of the conversation. The introductions wrapped up, and Megan shifted into what he assumed was a weekly check-up for returning members—their chance to take the floor and identify the things that had made the previous seven days particularly unbearable. Lucifer entertained himself for a few seconds imagining what sort of reaction he would receive were he to truly unload. He was still ferreting out Lilith’s loyalists, for instance. Those Hell Demons who had sworn to help her bring about the end of the world. And Jev, he knew, was having an even harder time of it, considering that his own right-hand man, the archangel Michael, had masqueraded as an ally since the dawn of time. It would be a miracle if Jev trusted any of his staff again.

That sort of thing might make the people around him realize they didn’t have actual problems.

—so angry, someone said, dragging the devil out of his thoughts.

He looked up and found the group’s attention had shifted to a young man four seats away from him. A man whose face was contorted in a mask of pain and sorrow, his eyes brimming with tears.

He shook his head and turned to the group coordinator. I’m so mad at her and I miss her so much, and it’s all at the same time. I think about it, and I start to shake I’m so fucking mad. I feel like I’m losing my mind most of the time.

Anger is a normal, healthy part of grief, Megan said. You can be angry at someone and love them at the same time. You can be angry and miss someone at the same time.

Lucifer snickered before he could stop himself.

Lucifer.

He looked up; Megan was looking at him expectantly.

Did you have something you wanted to add?

I don’t miss my ex-wife.

Well, she was an ex, someone else volunteered—a woman seated at Lucifer’s two-o’clock. She shot a look to the coordinator, then shifted in her seat. I guess I still don’t get that. Did you two have kids?

He barked a hard laugh. She was not the maternal type.

This woman wasn’t in your life anymore, was she?

Oh, she was. In more ways than I can begin to enumerate. Lucifer laughed again, the sound somewhat manic to his own ears. He dragged a hand down his face—his somewhat stubbly face these days. Since Lilith had fallen apart between his fingers, things like proper grooming had seemed less important. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her, felt her, and everything else melted away.

Then… The woman cleared her throat, her brow knitted. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but why exactly are you here, then? If you don’t miss your ex-wife?

Karen, Megan said, an edge to her voice. We don’t pass judgment on how others grieve.

I’m not passing judgment. I’m trying to understand.

So am I, Lucifer said, dropping his hand back