BVC Announces ‘Til Death by Diana Pharaoh Francis
‘Til Death
by Diana Pharaoh Francis
Does a demon dare risk taking a second chance at love?
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.
About the Author: Diana Pharaoh Francis is the USA Today Bestselling writer of fantastical, adventurous, and often romantic fiction. She holds a Ph.D. in Victorian literature and literary theory. She’s owned by a corgi and a mini blue heeler, and spends much of her time gardening, herding children, and avoiding housework. She likes rocks, geocaching, knotting up yarn, and has a thing for 1800s England, especially the Victorians. For more about her books and to sign up for her newsletter, visit www.dianapfrancis.com.
CHAPTER ONE
DIVORCE COURT
“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 to me 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. Myhalf 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.