by Eve Newton
“A temp?” I ask. How do you ‘temp’ in Hell?
“If you feel you are too good for this position, then I can always find someone else and you can go back to your cage, my dear,” the Devil says with a slight crease to his brow.
“No, I’ll take it,” I say quickly, anxious to keep on his good side. Besides, anything to get out of that prison cell, right? And it doesn’t exactly sound too taxing. Surely, I can kill this job and be promoted within a few days. If he is trying to teach me a lesson in starting at the bottom rung, then so be it. I knew I’d been given a great honor when I’d been given my Seductress stripes right off the bat, but I’m a fighter if nothing else. I’ll play his game and I will win.
The Devil leads me through a maze of corridors, all a dull shade of light gray, and into a large office with light gray walls and floor. The hideous fluorescent lighting makes my eyes water.
“This is Roberta,” the Devil says, gesturing to a female body so immense, she probably takes up three of me and the Devil put together. “She will assign you a desk.”
I look around but don’t see anything except miles of empty office space. “A desk?” I ask tentatively.
“I will leave you with Roberta now,” the Devil says by way of an answer. “Do not disappoint me again, Axelle. This is your last chance.” He vanishes with a fiery exit after that warning.
I turn to Roberta and blink.
The huge, ugly bitch is glaring down at me and I resist the urge to flinch.
“Not what I would have picked for you, but you should find yourself honored my liege was generous enough to fit you out himself,” Roberta sneers.
I, once again, look down at myself and feel mildly insulted by Roberta’s tone. I give the other female a confused look. “You can create bodies?” I ask. I thought only the Devil himself had such a power.
Roberta gives me a scathing look. “Who do you think fits out all of the morons down here?” she scoffs.
“I’m guessing you,” I say through the side of my mouth. “Sooo. What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?”
“Nothing dressed like that,” Roberta answers and shuffles through the file in her hand.
“I don’t have a change of clothes,” I say, much to my own shame.
It seems that while Demons inhabiting Hell have powers ranging from basic to extreme, depending on who you are, I don’t have any at all. I’ve been stripped of any ability and it angers me. How dare he force me to be so weak? In front of this bitch, no less!
Roberta sighs and snaps her fingers. In an instant, I’m dressed in a light gray skirt suit to match the walls and carpet. I stare down at myself in disgust. This is just…just…Argh!
“You have been assigned to desk number two-two-five,” Roberta says, and points to a door that magickly appears behind her. “His lordship has asked that you be assigned an apartment as well.” She shuffles through her papers some more.
His lordship? Who the fuck calls the Devil that anymore? “An apartment?” I ask, brightening. Actually, this is shaping up quite nicely. I hadn’t even thought about a place to live yet.
“Apartment block D, room number four C,” Roberta says, handing me a piece of paper with the details on and a key.
I take them with a sinking heart. “The tenements?” I snap. “I am not living in those awful places.”
Roberta glares at me again and says, “Then give me back the key and you can make your own arrangements. You don’t get paid until the end of the month, but I’m sure a pretty girl like you can find somewhere to lay her head.” Roberta leers at me, making me cringe. The thought of being homeless in Hell suddenly makes the tenement blocks look very appealing.
I grip the key tighter as Roberta tries to pry it from my hands. “I’ll take it,” I mutter quickly.
“Suit yourself,” Roberta shrugs, letting go. “The job is self-explanatory,” she continues. “The Reapers bring the souls, you sign them in, fill out the paperwork, then post it in the slot and send them on their way to Assignments.”
“That’s it?” I ask in dread. It sounds as dull as the suit I’m wearing.
“That’s it,” Roberta says unkindly and then just vanishes into thin air, leaving me completely alone.
I make my way to the door that Roberta had pointed at and open it cautiously, peering around it. All I see is another enormous room, exactly like the one I’m standing in, completely empty except for one stool with a low back and no arms, placed in front of a small shelf-like desk with a small wooden door above it. It looks like a bank teller’s workstation.
I sneer as I sit down but remind myself that it’s better than being in the fiery prison.
Just about.
At least I can speak properly, move about freely and interact with people. All things I have sorely missed.
~ CHAPTER THREE ~
Dashel
I take in a deep breath and focus. Even behind closed eyes, I can see the bright light that signifies Heaven. I am Heaven’s Guardian. The one Angel that protects this place from those who would try to destroy us. Sure, I have an entire army of Angels at my back, but I’m the one our master relies on. I alone have the power to beat the strongest evil, to wield the Sword of Light, a weapon designed to kill the one creature that has yet to be born. I’ve been trained on this one task for several months now, but it has been evading me. She has been evading me. It can only mean that the Devil has her sectioned off somewhere that I can’t find her. I should be able to pick up a trace of her essence in Hell, but there has been nothing since we were notified that the Seductress had been exorcised months ago.
I blow out a breath, seconds away from giving up and opening my eyes, when I get a ping. It’s faint, but it is definitely her.
“There you are,” I murmur, shoving my hands into my shoulder length blonde hair. My green eyes pop open and I smile.
“Vazna!” I call out to my second-in-command.
In a flurry of white wings, he is in front of me. “Sir?” he inquires.
“Her trace has been picked up. She is currently in Hell, which is a shame because we can’t reach her there. Yet. It can only mean that he knows who she is and what she can give him.” I’m confident of this analysis as Luc is not one to tolerate insubordination and I’ve heard that Axelle is a defiant female, along with many other undesirable traits.
“Are we sure about this?” Vazna questions me carefully.
I stand up and face off with him. He has been after my role for eons. But as long as I exist on this plane, he will never be Heaven’s Guardian.
“Of course,” I scoff at him, pulling down the cuffs on my tan leather jacket. “It was foreseen by the Light Oracle. The Demon Axelle is the one that Luc has been searching for, for this lifetime.”
“Very well,” Vazna murmurs with a bowed head. “If she is back in Hell, then we have no way to stop this from happening.”
I give him a slow smile. “We won’t have to do anything. I’m sure that she will try to escape once again. She will have nothing to do in Hell. Her whole reason for being is on Earth and as soon her feet hit the ground, we will have her. In the meantime, I’m working on finding a way into the depths. There has to be a way through the Wastelands.”
Vazna gives me a shocked look. “You would enter Hell?” he cries.
“If it gets me to Axelle, then, of course,” I reply. “There isn’t a Demon in there that can defeat me.”
“Except for the Devil,” Vazna points out.
I shrug. Luc doesn’t concern me. Yes, he could wipe me out of existence without batting an eye, but he wouldn’t dare. It would risk too much at a time when his attention will be divided. If there was ever a time to do this, it is now.
“I shall succeed in getting to that Demon,” I state. “There is too much at stake for me to fail.”
Vazna nods once. “What do you need me to do?”
“Be on high alert. If that Demon goes anywhere near either Earth or the Demonic Wastelands, I want to know about it.”
&nbs
p; “As you wish,” he mutters and vanishes, leaving me to contemplate the consequences of both success and failure in this task.
Axelle
Several hours later, the torture of sitting here watching the clock tick away the seconds is almost as bad as having no concept of time at all. It is deathly quiet, there is only me in this vast room and I’ve been sitting on this crappy stool for almost three hours now without a single soul coming through.
I tap my pen and then finally a red light appears above the little wooden door. I open it up, and call out, “Next!” really loudly.
Although, it is completely pointless, as the Reaper and his soul are already standing right in front of me and I have just bellowed straight into his hood.
“Oh! Hi!” I say brightly, eager for some conversation, but the Reaper just ignores me and hands me a rolled-up scroll. “Okay, whatever,” I mutter and take it from him. I think it’s a ‘him’, it’s hard to tell under that big, black hood.
I unroll the scroll and pick up my pen. Seems all I have to do is check the box that best describes the soul’s temperament, sign it and stamp it with the official Inbound date stamp.
Easy peasey.
I pop it into the slot, as instructed, and wave away the soul and his Reaper, slamming the little door in their faces. That sort of makes me feel better.
The arrogant jerk.
The least he could have done was make some small talk. I’m bored senseless, but seeing the fear and trepidation in the wispy, black soul that just passed through has pretty much made my day. Oh, how I miss people, and their vices. I sigh and hope that another soul comes along shortly with a chattier Reaper, before I lose my mind.
Sadly, there is only one more soul on my docket for that day and the Reaper was about as unforthcoming as the first one.
Miserable bunch.
The clock finally ticks away to five o’clock.
“Thank fuck for that,” I mutter as I leap off my stool and make my way to the exit. I open the door expecting to be in the same room I’d been in before with Roberta, but instead I find myself joining the masses of Demons making their way home at the end of the nine-to-five workday.
I’m starting to get how it works down here now. The door opens up to where it wants you to be. It’s kind of a neat trick, but also a way of keeping all of the Devil’s little minions in line. No escaping when it won’t let you. Besides, I had wondered how I would find my way home and back here again tomorrow, so it’s just fine with me.
For now.
I file into a line of bored-looking Demons and step onto the escalator that has a big neon sign that reads ‘Apartment block D’ above it. All around me, there is chatter and laughter, but no one talks to me.
I’m all alone.
I’d never had a chance to make any friends the first time I’d been sent here as I went through the Demon-making process immediately and I’d been assigned straight back to Earth to cause havoc among mankind, where I stayed for two hundred years. Only the most depraved souls get let out of the gate as soon as they arrive, and that is something I’d always prided myself on. Now, though, I’m just a lower-than-low admin bitch, forced to make my way back up the ladder to chaos-maker, and more importantly, back to Earth, and Slade, to seek my revenge.
I follow the directions I’d been handed in my folder, to my new apartment. I unlock the door tentatively, pushing it all the way open before I step inside. It looks like a regular apartment, so I walk in and close the door behind me.
Well, ‘apartment’ is probably taking it too far. It comprises of one room that houses my bedroom, the kitchen and the living room and a separate room for the bathroom. Err, make that shower room. There is no bath.
Underwhelmed, doesn’t cover it.
I sink miserably onto the fold out couch that is also my bed and slump my shoulders remembering the apartment that I’d inhabited when I’d been possessing Lacey. It was nice enough, not exactly to my taste, but it was a million times better than this dump.
However, at least this dump has a TV; I try to find the positive in this. TV in Hell is something I’ve never experienced before, so I’m rather curious as to what it entails. I slip off the bed, pull off the light gray jacket and open the closet. The contents take my breath away and not in a good way. Or at least not all of it. There are four more light-gray suits – just like the one I have on – four more white cotton blouses – just like the one I have on – and another pair of light gray, mid-heeled shoes – just like the ones I have on.
But I push all of that aside to see the beautiful creation nestled in the middle of all the dullness. A stunning red dress that seems even more vivid due to its surroundings. It’s a halter neck with a low back and falls to the floor in a satin puddle of gorgeousness. There is a note attached to it, which I pull off with a frown.
Dinner
That’s all it says.
I can only assume it’d been sent by the Devil as he is the only one who knows I’m here. Well, and Roberta, of course, but I highly doubt that awful bitch would want to take me to dinner.
But why would the Devil want to take me out?
I ponder on this as I take a look around the kitchen. There are a few basic food items in the cupboards and refrigerator, and the freezer is stocked full of Lean Cuisine’s.
Great.
It’s about as exciting as my skirt suit.
After that, I don’t waste too much time in debating the reasons why he has asked me to dinner and sent this masterpiece for me to wear. I’m more bothered about finding the shoes that go with the dress. When I see a red, diamond-encrusted box stuffed in the back of the cupboard, I drop to my knees to lift the lid.
“Oh!” I exclaim, as my eyes land on a perfect pair of red Christian Louboutins, so decadently high, I want to weep with joy.
I carefully place the lid back on the box and am on my feet in less than a second. Only slightly concerned as to his motives, I race into the shower room to get ready.
If I’ve been invited to a dinner party, I have to make this work for me. I have to network my ass off in order to make friends in higher places so I can get the hell off the first deck.
An hour later, after I’ve spent more time than I should have in the shower room admiring my new and quite stunning, bright blue eyes in the mirror, I’m swanning around my room in the gorgeous red dress and heels enjoying the feel of the satin against my skin. There is no time attached to the note, so I assume I’m just to show up when I’m ready. I’ve pinned my hair back off my face but have kept the blonde tresses cascading around my shoulders.
I look good. Damn good. And I know it.
I open the door to my apartment and wonder what’s next. Where am I supposed to go?
I’m not left to wonder for long, for as soon as I step out, I dematerialize and reappear almost instantly in a very dark, very grand foyer.
I blink rapidly, trying to get my eyes used to the dim light from the few black candles scattered about. I can make out a sweeping staircase off to the left and several archways to the right, which lead to who knows where.
I’m left standing here on my own for just long enough to start to feel uncomfortable, when a pair of olive-skinned beauties glide towards me, dressed only in heels that match my own.
Interesting. The Devil has a fetish for expensive killer heels, it seems.
The dark-haired twins give me a disinterested once-over before they flank me and start to walk forward. I follow wondering what is going on. The place is completely deserted from what I can tell, except for the three of us.
The twins lead me forward, under another archway, and into the bowels of this delicious dark mansion. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it is the Devil’s residence. It has decadence and elegant debauchery stamped all over it. The naked twin beauties are only a small part of that. The artwork is downright pornographic in its depictions of various versions of how people see the Devil: horned, red-skinned, claws, goat head, the usual myths, engaging in vile s
exual acts with various men, women or beasts. There are statues in a similar theme to the paintings, and there are instruments of torture adorning the walls, several of them coated in blood, that add to the air of depravity of this house of sin.
I fucking love it!
I find myself quite comfortable in these surroundings. Perhaps if I play my cards right tonight, I’ll be seeing more of this place in the future.
Eventually, I’m led into an enormous banqueting hall with a stone floor and a big candle chandelier above a ridiculously long table that could easily seat twenty people on either side.
At the head of the table, the furthest away from me, sits the Devil.
All by himself.
He is wearing an eye-wateringly gorgeous, expensive, black suit and his blue eyes are regarding me intently as I make my entrance. The twins abandon my side and make their way over to the Devil to drape themselves all over him. He ignores them in favor of raking his eyes over me, making my skin prickle.
“I knew that would look good on you,” he drawls, indicating that I should sit. The only other place setting is at the opposite end of the table, miles away from him, but I sit down anyway.
“We are dining alone?” I ask loudly, motioning with my hand to the vast, empty seats in between us.
“Did I give you the impression that someone else was joining us?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You didn’t give me any impression, just a dress with a note on it,” I remark.
“Just a dress…” he murmurs, doing a damn good job of ignoring the twin that has her tongue stuck in his ear.
“A beautiful dress,” I add quickly, feeling slightly flustered by his extreme coolness.
“Hm,” he says and picks up his silver goblet to take a small sip.
I wait for more conversation, but there is just silence and my relaxed attitude disappears, leaving me somewhat tense. In an effort to break this tension, I pick up my own silver goblet and take a large swig of it. It is a smooth red wine mixed with what I’m sure is human blood, and it makes me feel better as it slides down my throat.