Boca Raton was not what I anticipated. Lucifer did some fancy wing and hand thing he did when plane shifting and suddenly we were standing in the living room of a palatially appointed condominium. Anastasia cried out and ran to one of the windows to take a look at the human world for the first time in centuries. It was a neat trick and would certainly have saved a lot of time on horseback in my youth.

 

“I’m going to introduce you to my realtor,” Lucifer said. “She’s the best in the business. If she can’t find something to your liking then it doesn’t exist.”

 

I joined Anastasia at the window and took in my first view of the Mouth of the Rat. The sun blinded me—you think I’d be used to such brightness after the fires of Hell but this was light of a different kind. The beams of sunlight held a purity to them, with nothing of the pain inflicted by Hellfire within their light. The sun’s rays shone down upon the swathes of pavement, the baked grass, wide-leaved trees, and what Lucifer told me were automobiles. They zipped along a paved surface.

 

Everything up here sat neatly laid out, nothing of the haphazardness of my time where buildings could be thrown up and destroyed in what felt like an eye blink. It was cleaner too, no piles of trash or middens. No animals roaming the streets, fighting over scraps. I caught no sight of beggars, though perhaps they were better hidden.

 

“I thought you guys might want to change into something more…local,” Lucifer said.

 

I turned around to find him holding up hangers of clothes in various shades of pale pinks, purples, and blues, along with an outlandish print almost as bright as the sun outside. Anastasia beelined her way over to the Lord of the Hells and immediately relieved him of some of his burden.

 

“You can change in the bedroom through there,” he said, pointing down a hallway. Then he turned to me and asked, “How about you, Vlad?” He held up the remaining hangers.

 

Lucifer had changed into a simple white shirt and another of his ubiquitous cargo pants. He’d also adopted some kind of strange footwear that exposed his toes. A shell necklace wreathed his neck, and his blonde curls held a wind-tousled quality. He did not wear any of the pastel color that he tried to foist on us.

 

I flipped through the items of clothing he still held. There was a shirt with a bright print on a pale, green solid background. The print had trees and girls in straw skirts and some kind of top that barely concealed their gravity defying bosoms.

 

That would be a no.

 

Another was a simple short sleeve shirt with an oblong conveyance that read Billabong. Nonsense. And of course, there were several pairs of cargo shorts in various colors.

 

I think I made my stance clear on cargo shorts.

 

“No thank you, my Lord. I’ll stick with what I’ve got.”

 

Lucifer’s gaze swept over me and he raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” The faintest hint of amusement colored his voice.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

He shrugged and said, “Your pyre.” The clothes disappeared from his grip.

 

I glanced down at what I was wearing. It was the typical voivode ensemble, perfect for Romanian weather. I could probably do without the heavy cloak, so I shucked it off and laid it on a creamy leather chair, but the rest of my ensemble would be acceptable.

 

A few minutes later, Anastasia rejoined us. She wore a teeth-achingly bright pink dress decorated with some kind of yellow fruit. Her shoes added a bit of lift to her petite frame but her hairstyle seemed out of place. I said nothing lest she scale the dining room table and fling herself from it. We didn’t have time if we wanted to meet with this realtor.

 

“So,” Lucifer began with a clap of his hands, “we’re going to meet Kathy downstairs. I’ll introduce you and then she’ll show you some places to give you an idea of what’s available and your can tell her what you are looking for. Sound good?”

 

Anastasia nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. I inclined my head. “Will you staying with us, my Lord?” I asked, though I suspected the answer.

 

“I’ve got some business to attend to up here, but Kathy will drop you off when you’re done.” He checked his watch, a heavy gold thing that nearly covered his entire wrist. “If we don’t shake a tail feather, we’ll be late.”