by RJ Blain
“You should become a chaperone. You don’t run and scream like most. It pays well. I’ve heard you can bag a hundred a day accompanying new dead like us.”
While I wanted to shudder and gag at even the thought of going out of my way to keep the newly dead company, I feigned interest. If I learned something, the flight wouldn’t be a total loss—or quite so unbearable. “Expenses paid?”
Both men pulled out stained business cards from their pockets. Each gave me a stack, stuck together and barely legible, but I recognized Wishing Well’s logo. Surprise, surprise. I bet the employment contract included a generous offer of unlife and an assassination, too.
“Don’t know; only the living can be hired as chaperones. This flight has two. Airports now require one chaperone per five new dead. Helps keeps problems to a minimum, you know.”
“Good to know. Who’s your chaperone?”
The rotters pointed at a woman in the row in front of us and across the aisle. Her suit made me think she was either a lawyer or a businesswoman rather than an undead babysitter. Squirming in my seat, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of her. I also took pictures of my seat mates. “I’ll think about it.”
“You should. Wishing Well will change the world, lady. Image it. No one will worry about death ever again, for we’ll all become immortal.”
The living, the dead, and those in between converged in Chicago, and a miasma of decay hung in the air, invisible yet cold and clammy on my skin. While some travelers wrinkled their noses at the smell, only I seemed chilled and disconcerted by the presence of so many unliving. To escape the rank odor clinging to me, I went in search of a gift store, discovering clothing boutiques, perfume-infested tourist traps, and restaurants. A leather coat in the window caught my eye and lured me into the store, and the clerk’s professional refusal to acknowledge the stench wafting off me made me stay.
With my clothes hiding in a suitcase somewhere, buying something was the only way I’d be able to make it to Tennessee without snapping or throwing up on someone, probably Malcolm, unless he escaped with the other rich, beautiful people again. I couldn’t blame him; he’d offered me the better seat.
When I got a few minutes, I’d take my pride out back and give it a beating it would never forget.
After spending enough money I flinched while paying the bill, the clerk quietly offered to dispose of my stained outfit so I wouldn’t contaminate my clean clothes or bag. Forty minutes later, I left the store wearing brand new clothes, strappy heals with enough bling to make me happy and show off my legs, and a skirt short enough to feel scandalous without displaying too much unintentionally. Humming my satisfaction, I strolled around the airport in search of Malcolm.
I found Satin instead.
I put my hands on my hips and scowled at the devil. “You’re a stalker, aren’t you?”
“When the mood strikes me. Nice jacket. How much did that cost me? I won’t ask about the rest of that outfit; I’ve learned the hard way the less material is used, the more expensive it becomes.”
“Way too much. What do you want?”
“Can’t I visit my little cupcake?”
“No. Not in an airport, and especially not when you saw me this morning.”
“I come bearing gifts.”
“Are they gifts I’ll actually like?”
“It’s a gift of a plane charter for you and your Stewart, which will leave in an hour, one without any undead on board. In addition, you’ll enjoy dinner in the air—and not your usual flight fare. I’m certain this trip hasn’t done your appetite any favors. I’m also including this packet of papers for you to read. You’ll find it interesting. Finally, I come with a warning. Asfour is out of the hospital, and I wouldn’t put it past him to make a bargain to get what he wants.”
Uh oh. I clenched my teeth and growled. “A bargain you might grant with the right terms?”
“No. A bargain I won’t grant because you’ll enter a bargain with me to prevent it.” The devil’s smile frightened me almost as much as his pleased tone. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way, but we are doing this, cupcake.”
“Hasn’t anyone told you the height of stupidity is making a deal with the devil? I lose IQ points every time I talk to you.”
“Don’t be nasty. Not all my deals only benefit me, just most of them. This one benefits us both. You’ll bar me from making bargains unfavorable to you. I’ll have your promise to come to at least one family dinner a year with your Stewart male. I’ll be nice and limit this to thirty years to coincide with his business agreement with me.”
“You can make bargains with anyone you want, but if you even consider bargaining me off to anyone, not only will I never attend one of your so-called family dinners, but I will amuse myself until my dying day trying to kill you.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” The Lord of Lies met my gaze with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
Alarm bells went off in my head, and I remembered the cardinal rule of lying: always look your victim in the eyes without wavering. When I considered the possibilities, I bottomed out with the worst possible option. “Did you already bargain me off to someone?”
The devil had the decency to look chagrined. “Maybe.”
“What have you done, Lucy?” I snarled.
“It’s entirely beneficial for you. I couldn’t help it. It was too good of a deal to pass up. Beneficial bargains shouldn’t count.”
I thought long and hard about wrapping my hands around Satin’s throat and wringing the life out of him. “Define beneficial.”
“Doesn’t harm you and results in a profit for you. I solemnly swear none of my bargains involve completing any betrothals arranged by your biological family.”
Why me? I suspected I was a reincarnated soul who’d done something particularly heinous to deserve the devil’s personal attention. “My soul is off limits.”
“You’d be useless as my heir if I took your soul. Your soul’s safe. I would prefer if you didn’t do something foolish like bargain it away. I’d have to hunt it down and give it back, and altruism gives me ulcers.”
“I rather like my soul where it’s at.”
“Good girl. I won’t even make you come to the main house for dinner. Unless you’d like a few dates with Asf—”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. So, do we have a bargain?”
“This is coercion,” I grumbled.
“I know. It’s great. I have to teach you the ropes anyway. The best way to learn is through experience. So far, you have done fairly well protecting yourself, except for that one time. Never sign papers I drew up without reading them very carefully. You might end up adopted. At least you can spell your new last name, right?”
“Does that make you Mephistopheles Mephistopheles? If so, you have an awful name.”
“An unexpected backfiring. Your mother finds my current situation endlessly amusing. Oh, when you visit us, bring her an iced coffee. She really enjoys them.”
“Sure.” All things considered, bringing an iced coffee to a succubus seemed reasonable enough. “You really got us a charter?”
“And dinner. That’s important. You need to eat more, cupcake.”
“Fine. If this bargain backfires on me, Lucy, I will make it my eternal mission to kill you.”
“Bargain made. Your Stewart male is at the gate and rather grumpy that he lost track of you. Take his ticket, give it to the woman at the gate, and tell her to reassign the seats. A stranded couple will really appreciate your seats.”
“At no expense to them. You will pay all the fees.”
“Very well.”
“Give me everything.”
The devil gave me a sleek black briefcase and an envelope. “Keep the briefcase; it’ll be useful later.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You should. That’s something devils have in common with angels: we never do something without reason. Have a good flight, dear.”
&nbs
p; The devil vanished in a cloud of yellow smoke. Brimstone smelled better than decomposing bodies, and that realization startled a laugh out of me.
Who knew?
Chapter Twenty-Two
I found Malcolm at the food court, and he glared at me. Ignoring his displeasure, I snatched the boarding passes out of his hand, spun around, and beelined for the nearest boarding gate. After a short but sweet discussion with the airport employee, she promised to transfer the tickets to a pair of needy travelers on the devil’s dime.
While I felt bad about subjecting them to the funk of rotting corpses, I wanted to enjoy a flight without battling nausea the entire time.
Malcolm crossed his arms, posing to make every last one of his muscles bulge. “Why did you do that?”
After I got him on the plane, I’d have to recommend he be tested for testosterone poisoning. “We have a charter flight, and we’re leaving now. March, Malcolm. I’ve been promised an undead-free trip, and so help me, if you interfere, I will kill you.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Lead the way.”
Amazing. Miracles could happen. I checked the charter package for our gate information and pointed Malcolm in the appropriate direction.
When we arrived but before I had a chance to pull out our boarding passes, the stewardess smiled and intercepted us. “Please follow me, Miss Mephistopheles, Mr. Stewart. As soon as you’re settled, we’ll be ready for takeoff.”
I followed her, and Malcolm tailed me, muttering curses low enough I doubted he meant for me to hear them. Between his disgruntlement over his plans being thwarted and my escape from the stench of undeath, I liked the way my day was turning out.
A few hours without worrying about corpses seemed like heaven to me.
Unfortunately, hell waited on board, and the Lord of Lies lounged in a leather armchair at a table for four, and judging from the place settings, he meant for me to cozy up with Malcolm on the other side of the table. “Damn it, Satin!”
“Fancy meeting you here, Kanika. What a surprise. Dinner will be served as soon as we reach altitude. Sit, children. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Malcolm laughed, patted my shoulder, and gave me a push towards the table. “You should have insisted on a devil-free flight.”
“You’re right. I should have.” Accepting the inevitable, I sat across from the Lord of Hell, hoping to mitigate some of his influence on Malcolm. “I’m going to make this clear now. This fulfills my requirement to have dinner with you for the next year.”
“Very well, cupcake, but only this once.”
I considered the concession my victory and made myself as comfortable as I could with both the devil and Malcolm watching me. “What do you want?”
“I thought it wise to accompany you to prevent any incidents. You have enemies now, cupcake, and they aren’t all of my making. You’re not used to attention of this caliber, so it falls to me to make sure you live long enough to learn the ropes. Of course, the wise ones want you alive as leverage against me. I’ll be impressing upon certain individuals that attacking my heir will endanger their lives—and compromise their souls. I’ll enjoy tormenting any naughty beings I catch who believe they can get away with hurting you. It’ll keep me from getting bored. I do hate being bored.”
Malcolm sat beside me, leaned over, and whispered, “Under no circumstances should Satan be allowed to become bored.”
“Thank you, Sir Obvious. When he’s bored, he bothers me.”
The devil ignored our murmuring, although he grinned, making it perfectly clear he’d heard us. “I have information for you, Mr. Stewart, and I wish to strike a bargain for it.”
Sucking in a breath, I glanced at Malcolm, who shot me a glare. “For the record, this is entirely your fault,” he muttered.
It probably was. I winced. “I’m sorry.”
Malcolm nudged my foot with his before turning his glare to the devil. “All right, Mephistopheles. What do you want?”
“It’s a two-part bargain.” The Lord of Lies pulled out a thin, long box and set it on the table. “The information I have deals with your clan’s recent activities. You’ll find it useful. In exchange, I’ll require you to wear this.”
Within the box, ‘this’ proved to be a bracelet the match for mine, and I tensed. “I won’t allow it.”
“Don’t worry, cupcake. I don’t have any designs on your Stewart. I won’t be wearing the master bracelet. You will be.”
I’d be wearing it? I lifted my hand to stare at the one I wore, then I graced Malcolm with my sweetest smile. “I’ve changed my mind. Please, continue.”
Malcolm scowled, and Satin laughed. “I thought you’d like that. It seemed fair.”
I waved away the devil’s complaint. “I get it next week.”
“This will resolve the issue your Stewart has been attempting to counter without your knowledge. It’s rather sweet. He’s so awkward. Of course, the curse is hampering his ability to handle the situation like a normal adult, but intent matters. He’s made more headway against the curse’s nature than most. So, this will require him to willingly submit to you, and you’ll have to willingly accept his submission and submit to him as well. It’ll be easiest on you, as you’ve already agreed of your own volition to wear the bracelet.”
I frowned. “What issue?”
“Mephistopheles, is it really necessary to go into the details?” Malcolm asked in a strained voice.
“Yes, it is. I’m assuming the original set was sold without declaration of some of the more nefarious consequences, so it’s mandatory my little cupcake knows exactly what she’s gone and gotten herself into.”
One day, I really would kill the devil, and I’d list his absurd nickname for me as the top reason. “I already know he could kill me if he tried to forcefully use his magic, and that I would begin sensing his emotions.”
“That’s better than I expected, to be honest. The problem is this. The bracelets forge a connection between the master and servant bracelets. The sensing of emotions is the first sign the bond is taking hold. That bond can be quite difficult to break, dependent on the nature of the relationship between the wearers.” The Lord of Lies picked up the pair of bracelets, holding them up and looking them over. “Your nature would ensure a bond on your end, and Stewarts like yours have an unfortunate tendency to obsess over their chosen female. Your Stewart is rather peculiar, as you are not the first female to catch his attention.”
“Caitlin,” I snarled.
“Yes. I do hope she made herself a sandwich. It’d be a pity if she ended up in the hospital. I intend on sending incubi in need of a reward her way, especially ones who are ready to have children. A few children might settle her down a bit—and ruin her plans of clan domination.”
Malcolm grimaced. “And the worst part is, she wouldn’t even say no to a fling with an incubus or three.”
“Three?” I squeaked.
“She’d take as many as she could get her hands on. That’s her nature.” Malcolm shrugged. “Had I realized that was her nature earlier, I would’ve avoided her altogether.”
“It’s part curse, part nature for him, cupcake. You’ll find your Stewart will be loyal to a fault. It’s a birth defect, I’m certain of it. I’d never deliberately design a being with morals the match of a stuffy angel.”
I took the high road and decided against reminding the devil he actually liked angels, especially his brothers. “So, how does this work? What happens if we’re both wearing master bracelets?” The plane’s jets rumbled to life, and I tensed at the vibrations. “What’s the point of suppressing each other at the same time?”
“You wear them with the bonds open, silly girl.” Satin tilted his head back and laughed. “Buckle up, children. I’m a bit more durable than you two are. It’s always wise to take precautions.”
I buckled in just in case the devil wasn’t screwing with us. The liftoff happened without incident, and the Lord of Lies laughed at my relieved sigh. “You’
re such a jerk, Lucy.”
“I am. Now, Mr. Stewart, do you agree to my terms?”
Malcolm shook his head. “Not until I hear the rest of your bargain. I’ll decide then.”
“Take note, Kanika. Had he agreed now, he’d be bound to both parts of our bargain. Always find out the entirety of the deal before you agree to anything.”
“Noted.” I nudged Malcolm’s foot with mine. “How’d you know that, anyway?”
“I’ve bargained with devils and demons before. It’s not unusual to run into both types in the business world. The bargains in business are strictly material wealth, however—no risk of souls. It’s taboo to involve spiritual matters in base business dealings. The last time a devil tried it, he was run out of the industry completely; no one would do business or bargain with him. He had to go to Europe. I probably won’t even be alive when the embargo on that idiot’s lifted.”
Huh. Later, I’d have to ask how often he dealt with the forces of hell, and if he had any ideas on how to mitigate my devil problem. “Okay. What’s the second part of the bargain, then?”
Malcolm jabbed me with his foot, and I twisted mine and stepped on his toes with my heel. We engaged in a short but fierce battle beneath the table, which he won by virtue of having bigger feet. I wrinkled my nose, as he held my feet hostage with this shoes, careful not to put too much weight on my toes.
The devil arched a brow at us, turning to Malcolm. “I’ll give you all the information I have on the Stewart clan; this will include developing situations and current news, history, and interesting rumors that might have substance. I’ll also make it clear if the information is reliable or not when I give it to you. In exchange, you’ll vow to withhold from entering into any bargains with another clan.”
“Define clan,” Malcolm ordered.
“Anyone other than me and my chosen negotiator. For the purpose of this agreement, this means you can only bargain with me or Kanika. I may, at my choosing, decide when she will negotiate on my behalf. Furthermore, I ban any transference of your soul in any form. By entering this agreement, you’ll agree that I have overriding ownership of your soul. I’ll swear you’ll retain full will and freedom, and that upon your physical death, your soul will be accounted for per the actions of your uncursed life; all actions of your cursed life will be cleansed. In short, should you not regain ownership of your soul prior to your death, your soul shall be declared suitable for admittance into the heavens.”