The Devil's Saturnalia

By Alexa Piper

While in Scotland for Lionel’s magic training with Hades, a murder case compels the Devil and his necromancer to stick around a little longer. Lionel, who still cannot control his demigod magic properly, doesn’t mind a murder investigation, because that is something a necromantic police consultant like himself knows how to handle.

Except, the investigation doesn’t go at all as Lionel thought it would. And when he decides he wants to open up to Lucifer, finally, that doesn’t go exactly as Lionel had feared either, but some surprises are good surprises, especially when Saturnalia is just around the corner.

Lucifer is delighted. He has his boyfriend, who finally opens up, and his boyfriend is all his, at least through the holidays. That much attention is exactly what Lucifer loves, and the holiday season would be entirely perfect -- if it weren’t for an old enemy who is out for vengeance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Dec 9, 2022

Book preview

Chapter One

Lionel

Demigod magic was different from human magic. I understood that. Why my half-human status and my limited grasp on the not-human magic in me required me to be dropped into either an oubliette or a dried-out well like today, I had no fucking clue. But Hades, god of the underworld, brewer of whiskeys, and also my mostly cryptic magic teacher, had declared it necessary, and so here I was.

The oubliette back in November, some three weeks ago now, hadn’t been so bad, actually. I’d freaked out at first, but my Awesome Demi-Human Sled Dog Magic™ had just been there and ready, as if the breaking of the minotaur’s labyrinth a few days before had excited the magic. As if it hadn’t quite settled down yet and was still there to please. The rocks making up the walls of the oubliette had shifted easily to give me handholds, and I’d simply climbed back up, leaving the cold, damp darkness behind.

But the well was just a hole I was stuck in. It was fucking dark down in this well shaft, and since it was the middle of December, it was also fucking cold. I’m a skilled necromancer, I mumbled into the grayish semi-darkness. I am a competent police consultant, and I can raise and kill zombies with my mind. How in the fuck did I get here?

I smelled woodfire and spices on the air, and my heart picked up a beat. Babe. You can’t kill a zombie. They’re already dead as a prerequisite. You de-animate them.

Lucifer, my teleporting boyfriend and also the Devil, was standing on the frozen ground of the well’s bottom right next to me. I felt his body heat. I was sure he looked amazing with his kitty-cat hair just perfect, though I couldn’t really see that. Night fell early in the harsh Scottish winter, and Hades had dropped me into the well around noon. I mean, he’d gently lowered me down, but still. I’d been starting to feel like that creepy girl from that Japanese movie. I could barely see anything in this dry and frozen hole in the ground, and I’d started contemplating a future in which I got to haunt people by crawling toward them out of their TV.

What are you doing down here? I asked the devilish boyfriend unit, my teeth chattering slightly. I actually wanted to melt into him and seek his warmth against his chest, but I didn’t want him to think I was needy. No, that was wrong. I didn’t want to think I was needy. I did need him. I knew that, deep down inside, but it was scary. Most of my feelings for Lucifer scared me these days, and most of the time, I wasn’t sure how to handle myself and my needy ass around him.

Sometimes, he tied me to his bed and took all control and power away from me, handling my ass for me, and then, it didn’t matter, and everything became easy. When he got to do to me what he wanted and wouldn’t take any objection, he also gave me just what I needed but didn’t know to ask for. I had come to that truly freaky realization while tied to one of the bed posts of the four-poster bed in the guest room we shared in Persephone’s castle, Lucifer’s dick in my mouth, and I would have liked to call the realization mind-shattering. It hadn’t been. It had just come, and then Lucifer had, and I had swallowed, and he’d taken care of me after, kissed me and rubbed me down like a horse fresh off the track, and it had felt so good.

So, consequently, shit had gotten only scarier with him.

I am here to get you, babe. Unless you are getting yourself out?

I scoffed and kicked the wall of the well. I would have by now if I could. Being stuck in a well sucks. Why the fuck would you think I’d stay down here if I could get out by myself?

Lucifer came closer, cupped my cheek. The chthonic side of your heritage should drive you to enjoy this. Being below the earth.

Ah, I said, because what the fuck. Hades hasn’t mentioned that. He was talking about Kringle again.

Lucifer was caressing the side of my mouth with the pad of his thumb, not quite stroking my lips. If I turned my head, I could suck his thumb. It would be that simple.

Who’s Kringle? the Devil asked.

I shrugged. Hades’ dead cat. They had to put her down. He keeps mentioning her to me.

Well, he is a good teacher. Lucifer paused as if he were looking at me, but I couldn’t really see the sapphire of his eyes in the dark. You need to come up and have a look at the corpse.

"The what?" I said, because seriously, what the fuck?

* * *

Lucifer teleported both of us out of the well and into the snow-covered landscape. I blinked against the sudden brightness and looked around to get a sense of where we were. I could see the castle and the warehouse that held the aging liquor brewed by a death god not too far away. We were on a path on which the snow had been recently flattened by something big. It was the road the truck that picked up Hades’ liquor for delivery usually took, and it appeared as if that had happened not too long ago because, other than hoofprints, I didn’t see much else in the snow, nothing much a forensic team could work with, but you never knew.

The neighing of Persephone’s horse made me crane my neck to see around Lucifer. I liked the horses, liked hanging out in the stables and watching them munch apples I held out to them on my palm. They were unconditionally friendly -- petting them was calming.

There you are, pumpkin, Persephone said, her normal smile dampened. She was dressed in a red riding jacket and held her mare’s reins in her gloved hands. This one, unless I was mistaken, was called Sherbet, and she neighed when she saw me. Hades stood a little off the path in a snow dune, silver eyes looking at a dark shadow against the snow.

What happened? I asked.

Hades looked up from what I assumed was the corpse. I was kind of hoping it was another dead cat or something.

Sorry to have left you in the well, lad, the death god said, his brogue out on full auditory display. But Sephy called, and you can handle yourself so long as no one is trying to hit you.

The nerve. Excuse me, I will have you know --

We’re waiting for the police, but this is on the property. I’d like you to have a look at the corpse, Hades went on.

Before I could say anything else and clarify that I was not useless in a fight -- which was not exactly conforming with reality, but damn, I would fight if I had to -- barks echoed toward us over the snow.

I turned my head, taking a reluctant step away from Lucifer, who equally reluctantly let me go. Cerberus, three-headed hazard to all mail personnel who dared deliver, was loping ahead of a pair of cops through the drifts. The damn hell dog was obedient with Hades and Persephone, but the left head had an unhealthy obsession with me, and the blue-eyed canine -- the left one -- was already staring me down as if I were some bunny rabbit. The yummy kind.

Ho! One of the cops said, a portly man with a graying mustache.

Both cops had neon vests on over their uniforms, making them stand out, even in the snow. They also had hats that worked to somehow make them look not intimidating but sort of friendly. Like some bloke from the pub wearing their bowler hat and up for a chat and a pint.

The mustachioed cop went on, Minnie said there’s a murder on the grounds, Hades? He looked toward me and Lucifer, who naturally angled his head so the curve of his jaw stood out extra nice. You found them?

The older cop’s partner, a woman I judged in her twenties with the clichéd red and frizzy Scottish hair and an overbite, pulled out a notepad and started writing. Names? she asked sweetly.

Aye, there’s a corpse, but Sephy found it. These two’re friends and staying with us on and off, Hades said, stepping through the snow and toward the policeman to give the older Scot a hearty handshake. Let me introduce Lucifer and Nelly, Hades said.

Lucifer, damn charmer that he was, gave the policeman a knee-buckling smile before they shook hands as well.

Such a pleasure, Lucifer purred.

The policeman’s cheeks flushed, and his colleague stared, expression caught somewhere between surprise and shock. Constable Winston Gladwell, at your service, he said. Meaning it, apparently.

My name’s Lionel Hawkes, actually, I said in an attempt to gain everyone’s attention. I’m a necromancer, which is why Hades asked me to be here. Fully Collegium certified.

Oh! the policeman said. That’s rare. Lily, that’s rare, isn’t it? Who’s that death raiser works in the care home over in Lowehill? Anna?

That’s Anabel. The other constable was taking down my name before she explained, She helps people pass on.

But you don’t do that? Constable Gladwell said to me.

Hades sighed. The lad is too much like Kringle.

That poor cat? Constable Lily asked.

My Nelly definitely has claws, Lucifer chirped in.

Persephone cleared her throat. Should I make everyone a cuppa, or do you want to take my statement first, Winston?

Ah, Miss Persephone, some builder’s tea would be nice. I reckon we’ll take a look first, and then have a talk after? Maybe you want to put Sherbet away first too?

Who exactly is documenting the scene? I bit out, because seriously, this was a crime scene, and where even was the coroner? And what was builder’s tea?

The horse neighed. Lily’s doing that, pumpkin, Persephone said and patted me on the shoulder before she got on Sherbet’s back in one smooth move and trotted away. Back in two shakes.

I cleared my throat. Would you like me to raise the deceased? I asked and pointed at where the body was. I hadn’t looked too closely at it yet. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too much of a smell in the cold and snow.

The constables gave me a wide-eyed look, then looked at each other. You can do that? Constable Gladwell asked.

Lucifer put a possessive hand on the small of my back, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The gesture said, Behold, my necromancer.

Well, it is sort of in the job description for a necromancer, I said. And as I said, I am fully certified and currently a consultant for Brunswick PD. Detective Christine Rice is my supervisor, and if you request my help, this falls under the International Investigative Assistance Treaty.

The IIAT, strictly speaking, applied to all magic users who had taken the required test at some point in the qualification process, which was standard for everyone whom the Collegium trained toward law enforcement. The reasoning was that a magic user at or near a scene -- whether actively in the force, on vacation, just there while passing through -- could be roped in to help without a lot of the red tape that could otherwise harm or hinder the police in building a case. In practice, the idea was to use the rare necromancer and mage when you needed them.

He’s a good lad, Hades said, which… okay. I had no idea what me being a good lad had to do with anything, but fine.

Such a good lad, Lucifer said, too quietly to be aimed at the police. This was for me, and his words reliably made a shiver run down my spine.

Well, we wouldn’t want to ruin your holiday, Nelly, would we, Lily? Constable Gladwell said.

That would be a shame, she agreed. They both looked totally serious as if even the idea of inconveniencing me made them uncomfortable.

What was it with these people? I was a necromancer. It was my job. Making sure murderers got caught before they could do it again was my job. I was here. And this was better than the well… though not for the victim.

I assure you I am more than happy to help, I bit out, wrangling for a calm demeanor. I can help with making an ID, and I assume their family would want them home, especially this close to the holidays. And ideally, I can help with putting whoever did that behind bars, also before the holidays.

Hades clapped a hand on my shoulder. Just like I said, a good lad. Winston, since this is on our property, I would like Nelly involved.

The constable shrugged, and Lily made notes on her pad. Well, if you honestly do not mind, Nelly?

I would mind even less if they called me Hawkes, but by this point, I didn’t care anymore. I honestly don’t. Do you need to have the coroner present before I get started?

Constable Gladwell turned to Constable Lily, whose name I really had to find out, because I couldn’t think of her as that for much longer. It was unprofessional.

I’m not exactly sure, she said. We skipped over this bit during the seminar since necromancers are so rare. Scotland Yard has their own, did you know? Gets into the papers whenever he solves a case for them. Has a real online following and everything.

I looked over my shoulder to the shape in the snow. They deserved this investigation run right. What had been done to them, whatever that was, was bad enough, and if I could help give them justice, I would. And I didn’t even need an online following to motivate me.

Call someone who knows and get the coroner here just in case.

Constable Lily nodded. I’ll try that bloke from the academy I dated for a month, she said and pulled her phone out.

All of a sudden, I wished I were back down in the well.

* * *

Lucifer

Nelly looked like he was having a stressful day. His baseline stress level was normally lower here in Scotland, even after he’d taken three hours to get out of the oubliette the other day. I didn’t quite see the reason for today stressing him out, since these police persons seemed both capable and caring. They, unlike that thing at Brunswick PD, didn’t want to murder my Nelly.

In addition, ever since Marc Deacon and then Michael, I’d made it a point to dig into whether new people looked with desire at what was mine. Lily liked