The Devil's Wife by Holly Hunt

horn.
          We all laughed. Jaquie thought it was funny, and passed the pitcher of scotch back around the table to me. Azazel didn't even bother trying to drink the scotch—he hated the taste—and handed it to Beelzebub as soon as he could. I laughed as I took the pitcher from Beelzebub, pouring myself a drink.
          "Why aren't you eating, Luce?" Leviathan asked me, pulling a fishbone out from between his teeth. It was wider than his mouth, making me stare.
          Beelzebub looked at the single chicken bone on my plate, then the glass of scotch in my hand. "Don't tell me we're sharing the Last Supper," he said, then chuckled to himself.
          Everyone's a comedic genius tonight, I thought and rolled my eyes. "I'm cooking dinner for Clarissa tonight. I don't want to eat too much now and not be able to eat with her later."
          "Who's Clarissa?" Azazel asked from the foot of the table, his plate piled up with a rack of American Marinade ribs.
          "My new girl." I smiled at the boys.
          "Nice name," Baraqiel said from the end of the table.
          I laughed again, drinking half the glass of scotch in a single mouthful. "Thanks, guys."
          Beelzebub smiled. "It'll be nice to have a woman around here who isn't dead," he said wistfully.
          "We're happy for you, boss," Ramon said, filling up his glass from the pitcher of Jack Daniel's in front of him. "May you finally drag your ass out of its funk and join the rest of us in enjoying still being alive. I mean, God could have wiped us out, if He wanted to. He didn't have to give us our own realm."
          "Hear, hear!" Belial called, filling his glass from the pitcher of Bloody Marys and handing it to Beliqiel sitting
    beside him. "To the new Queen!"
          I could feel myself blushing, though I knew that no one would be able to tell aside from me.
          "C'mon guys," I said as they all filled their glasses and toasted. "I don't even know if she is going to stay my friend. I have a lot to deal with, what with Sera and our daughter's death."
          All of the Demons dropped their drinks, even Azazel, who was sipping absinthe. The alcohol spread across the dirt, turning it into sweet-smelling mud. Not even Azazel mourned the dropped alcohol. Beelzebub, who had just taken a mouthful of vodka, spat it across the table. Leviathan, the recipient of the clear spray, was staring at me and didn't notice. Kokhabiel choked on his piña colada and turned to the side of the chair to avoid spraying the food as he took ragged breaths.
          "She was what?" Belial asked in shock as Beliel thumped the choking Beelzebub on the back. "Why didn't you tell us?"
          "The five thousand years of melancholy make sense now," Jaquie whispered, and the sound of his feminine voice could be heard over Beelzebub's gasps. "You weren't just mourning Sera, you were mourning your child." He looked at me carefully. "I assume it was yours and not—"
          "No, she was mine. My daughter." I nodded. "I didn't tell you all because you'd lost so much of your own lives because of me. I didn't want to make it worse for you."
          "But we didn't lose as much as you, apparently, Luce," Leviathan said, frowning. Then he smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. "I should have known that if anyone could have single-handedly destroyed God's plan, even from Hell, it would have been you."
          "Does Clarissa know you had a wife before? That she was pregnant when she died?" Beelzebub asked, ignoring Leviathan.
          I nodded. "I told her everything. Except the real reason behind the Fall. I told her I refused to sleep with God, not...not the real reason."
          "How did she react, Luce?" Leviathan asked, frowning. He finally noticed the vodka on his face and wiped it off daintily with a serviette.
          "She took it pretty well," I said, frowning to remember. "She just kept asking