See You in Hell

by Demelza Carlton

  Luce offered a bottle, tilting it over Mel's glass. "Wine?"

  Mel's curiosity was piqued. "What kind?"

  Luce shrugged. "Some white the hotel thinks goes well with the entrée."

  So much for the suave, wine connoisseur of a CEO. Mel laughed outright as she tilted her head to read the label. She recognised it as one she liked but couldn't often afford, from the winery with the beautiful gardens down in Margaret River. "Yes."

  The entrée was oysters. Mel didn't touch them.

  Luce slurped through his before he noticed hers were untouched. "What's wrong with your oysters?" he asked through a mouthful.

  Mel's stare was as cold as the bed of ice beneath their shells. "They're still alive."

  "Not for long!" Luce grinned as he swallowed the last of his. He waited, but her expression didn't defrost. "Aren't you going to eat them?"

  Mel lifted her wine glass and sipped, savouring the light wine. "No."

  He reached for her plate. Slurp, slurp, slurp and Luce gulped his own wine with a grin, surveying the empty shells. "Do you know why I asked you to stay back tonight?" he asked.

  Mel placed her glass carefully on the table. "Of course. It's your last day, as you're flying to take up some new position in the company that involves a lot of travel, and you wanted to check over the minutes before you left for good. I'm sorry I missed your farewell morning tea – I heard your speech was quite touching."

  "Oh. Yes." Luce looked miffed, as if Mel had stolen his thunder. "Do you know why I'm leaving?"

  Mel gave a small smile. "I had heard it was to do with your health..." She thought there might be some truth in that particular rumour, as the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed him. She wondered what sort of malaise a demon could possibly suffer from.

  Luce coughed. "Yes. The climate here is not what I'm used to. I need somewhere warmer, drier..."

  "And with more smoke and sulphur?" Mel finished for him with a smile before she could stop herself.

  "Where smoking is far less frowned upon than here, certainly," Luce replied uncertainly. It appeared Mel had stolen not just his thunder but his entire storm. "Shall we have the main course?"

  "Sure. I'm starving," Mel said as she uncovered her plate. She thought longingly of the steak she had at home, but the one before her was seared and saucy, reclining on a bed of vegetables and crowned with a baby carrot. She tried not to laugh – he'd evidently asked the chef to make the meal as suggestive as possible, and so it was.

  "More wine?" Luce said suddenly, grabbing a bottle of red and sloshing it into his own empty glass.

  Mel drank the dregs of her white before tilting her glass toward him. "Please." The red ran smoothly into her glass, almost as dark as the steak. More Margaret River wine, but this time it was from Devil's Lair, Mel thought as she glanced at the label, tasting the unmistakeable shiraz.

  Luce emptied his glass before Mel had set hers down, so he refilled it before tackling his meal. Mel smothered a smile and started slicing her steak into small pieces.

  Mel kept her eyes down and Luce seemed to need to slurp his shiraz courage with increasing frequency. When she was sated, Mel carefully placed her cutlery side by side on the plate. She carefully wiped her parted lips with her cloth napkin before delicately taking another sip of wine.

  "I want you to come with me. I need you," Luce blurted out. His knuckles were white as he clutched the empty wine bottle.

  Mel touched her wineglass to her lips once more, holding the rich red in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing. "I'm needed here."

  Luce swallowed and tried again with some difficulty. Mel wondered if he'd had too much wine. "I need a personal assistant in my new job and I want you. I'll be travelling a lot, incorporating new acquisitions into the HELL Corporation. I'll need an absolute angel who can do anything to be my assistant – an angel like you."

  Mel smiled. "Like me? Would another angel do?" Her heart went out to the demon, but she knew this was the perfect opportunity to replace herself in his affections or whatever his feelings for her were.

  Luce looked uncertain. "What do you mean?"

  Mel tried to keep the wickedness from her smile. "Well, only half-angel, really. Your new PA, Persephone, is perfect for what you need. She's far more helpful than I could ever be. She'll keep everything in order to the last detail – she'll be able to tell if you're missing a pomegranate seed from your breakfast."

  "You mean the girl with the glasses? A half-angel, really? What's the other half?" Luce looked stunned. Perhaps it was the wine.

  Mel permitted herself to laugh. "My cousin – her mother – insisted that he was some sort of Greek god, but he was about as much use as a marble statue. I didn't enquire further." Her smile turned prim. "You might want to ask Persephone about her halo."

  "But you said your cousin isn't a full angel. How can she have a real halo on her head?" Luce asked, laughing.

  "Ah, no, not on her head," Mel replied, biting her lip so she didn't say any more. He evidently hadn't persuaded Persi onto his desk yet, or he'd know exactly what she was referring to. "She's even a fan of unusual art, like the pictures on your wall. You'll like Persephone." And she might like him, if his tongue was smoother than it was tonight. Mel reached for her dish of mousse and dipped her spoon. Heavenly, as before. She resolved to learn to make this, for she could hardly afford dessert from the Hilton every day.

  "Are you sure you want to refuse my offer?" Luce watched Mel.

  She felt sorry for him, but she'd promised Raphael and Persephone that she'd leave him to them. Her sympathy for the demon was clouding her judgement. Time to make good on her word.

  Mel dropped her spoon in her dish. "Yes. My place is here." She wiped her lips with the soft cloth once more before dropping that, too. Mel stood and Luce mirrored her movement. He looked so forlorn; she pitied the demon more than she thought possible. Perhaps it was best that Persi would be his downfall and not her. She didn't have the heart to rip out his.

  Mel rounded the table to his side. On impulse, she kissed his ruddy cheek. "Farewell, Luce. Thank you for the lovely dinner and the orchids you sent me secretly for Valentine's Day. I wish you the best, both in your new job and your health. If your travels bring you back to my city, I'd love to catch up again for dinner and drinks. Persi will know how to get into contact with me." She stepped away from him. "Now, I must go home to get some sleep."

  "I have a couch here. We could share!" Luce shouted after her, more than an edge of desperation in his tone.

  No, Persi would not share. Even a prince of darkness would be putty in her pretty hands in this state. And her halo...oh Hell!

  "Goodnight, Luce."

  Mel fought her laughter as she left the building, laughing so loud and hard on the train that the other passengers gave her a wide berth, which was just as well. If she stopped laughing, she'd cry. The lost, lonely look on his face as she left had smote her heart. She hadn't even been able to say her final goodbye.

  She hated to admit it, but the office was dull without Luce. The work was the same, but it seemed to lack a vibrancy that she now thought had stemmed from his presence. It wasn't that she missed him – all the demons seemed to be more somnolent. Of course, that could be partly because there'd been some incident with the delivery truck so that there weren't any coffee beans left – and there wouldn't be any more until the following Tuesday.

  Lili seemed to ask less of her, while she spent longer and longer at lunch or generally away from the office. More than once, there were new shopping bags on Lili's filing cabinet in the afternoons. Perhaps there was some truth in the rumour that Lili was Luce's mistress, for she definitely seemed to be pining away for something.

  Mel shut down her PC and headed home. Today Persi was due to call in her first weekly report and Mel was curious about the girl's progress.

  The call lasted fifteen minutes. Persi used the word "fine" at least thirty times by Mel's tally and asked more questions than she answered. S
he wanted to know how Luce liked his coffee, what his favourite foods were, and whether he preferred her to initiate sex or would she have to wait for orders. Mel almost choked on her tea at this last one, before she managed to suggest that Persi try taking the initiative. Evidently Luce hadn't liked the desk in his hotel room, or Mel was sure Persi would have spread herself across it at even the slightest suggestion that he wanted sex. Persi was certainly no angel in that respect.

  The only question she did answer, fortunately, was the most important. "What sort of deal did he sign at the meeting yesterday?"

  "Some sort of agreement to provide government services in the United States," Persi said slowly. "Health services, I think. I didn't think the US government provided health services...but he has a meeting tomorrow with some fancy real estate agent about office space. Not just here, but all over the world. Donald Dump or something, I think he said his name was..." She giggled.

  Glancing at the itinerary Persi had given her, Mel decided to pay the two a visit and see precisely how fine their business was in...New York, she read, and they were staying at what appeared to be called the Trump hotel – not a dump at all. Ah, she'd soon find out.

  Mel stretched out to sleep, feeling her spirit shake free of her tired body. As a pure angel, with no human limitations aside from the universe's laws of physics, she could swim through the atmosphere as sentient light. She couldn't leave her body for long, as the constructed form would start to disintegrate if untended, but an hour or two would be more than enough time to travel to New York and back – far faster than flying in any aircraft. She'd check on the couple and return home, with no one the wiser. Better yet, she'd be invisible to human eyes in her angel form.

  She revelled in the refreshing sensation of fast flight and it felt like mere seconds before the trees of a very different Central Park appeared below her, in chilly morning sunlight. The snow surprised her, until she realised the reversed seasons and higher latitude placed the park in very early spring. She'd been working for the HELL Corporation so long, she'd missed winter in Korea, too.

  She reached out, for she knew Persi's soul well. The agitated girl was in a hotel room overlooking the park and Mel could hear Luce's voice, complaining that she'd picked the wrong hotel. He never accepted favours from Trump, though he offered his hotel every time. Something about the rich Carlton...no, the Ritz-Carlton.

  "But they had no suites left with park views, sir, and you said you needed both..." Persi whined. "Let me help you with that, sir."

  Mel would have laughed at the repeated "sirs" but she was trying to stay as subdued as possible. Luce might be able to sense another spirit in the room – and she didn't want to be seen.

  She couldn't see Persi at first – just Luce, sitting at a desk, frowning at his laptop, a cup of coffee on the glass surface beside him. The dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to have worsened in the week he'd been away – jet lag, she presumed.

  Persi was...under the desk, plugging in the laptop power cable. "I see something else I can do for you, sir," she said. Mel heard unzipping, then slurping, as she realised precisely what Persi was doing for Luce. Luce shifted uncomfortably in his seat, nudging her away with his foot and Mel heard Persi's voice say thickly, "Oh, please, sir..."

  Mel felt a desire to gag – quite a feat without a throat or digestive tract. Where in Hell had Persi learned to be so sickeningly submissive?

  "Fine. Make it quick," Luce grunted, closing the document he was working on. Instead, he opened a presentation and Mel's attention was drawn to the screen. He'd pulled up the picture of her in her wet swimsuit in Sri Lanka and his eyes were fixed on the picture with an intensity that made Mel blush – or it would have, had she brought a body.

  To Mel's relief, Persi did indeed make it quick, crawling out from under the table less than five minutes later, wiping her mouth. "If you like, sir, I'd be happy to provide a more complete service any time you please. Whenever and wherever." She winked, but Luce wasn't looking at her. He'd quickly opened up his email and was scrolling through one message so slowly that Mel wondered if he was trying to memorise it. She looked closer – it was the email she'd sent him with her Sri Lanka photos.

  "Get out," Luce said shortly. "We leave for our first meeting in an hour and I need to work without interruptions until then. Close the door behind you. I'll grab you when it's time."

  Persi pouted and glided to the door to her adjoining room. "If you're sure..." she purred, lifting her skirt a little to give Luce a lovely glimpse of her tattooed skin.

  Luce didn't even look.

  The door closed quietly as Persi slumped onto the bucket chair in her room. After a minute, she headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth – twice, Mel guessed, as it took so long and required a significant amount of spitting. Mel slipped back into Luce's room, wondering what work was so secret that it couldn't proceed in front of Persi.

  Luce's fingers stroked the sunset shot on the LCD screen as he murmured, "My God, what I'd do for a single ray of your sunshine, Mel."

  Stunned, Mel tried to shrink back into Persi's room. He was more perceptive than she'd realised – and she'd tried to be so careful...

  He buried his head in his hands. "It should be you here instead of that...that...little lamprey. I'd take five minutes in the same room as you over a whole night naked with her. Hell, I'd give Trump back his millions and tear up the contracts if it meant you could be here. I'd give anything. Anything. Ah Hell..." He crossed to the bar fridge and extracted a small bottle of amber liquid. He wrenched it open and poured the contents into his coffee, then drank it down in three gulps that sounded surprisingly like sobs. "Melody..."

  Luce's soul writhed like a nest of snakes having a violent orgy. In her spirit form, Mel could see the turmoil more clearly than ever before. He gritted his teeth against the pain. "I'll take this corporation global and then I'll come back for you, Mel. You won't have to be a temp, doing Lili's dirty work in a boring little city far from everywhere. You can have any job you want in any city you please. I'll give you the world...even if you don't want me."

  Wishing she could help or even say something to comfort him and knowing she couldn't, Mel swept out, winging her way home to where she knew Luce wanted to be. She resolved not to look in on him again – it broke her heart to see the demon so lonely. And the way he'd said her name...Much more of this and she couldn't help stepping in – she couldn't bear to see such suffering.

  Of course, it could all be a front to win her sympathy and enslave her soul, Mel mused as she passed the Equator. If he'd suspected she was in his hotel room, he could have lied through his perfect teeth. Luce had a reputation for being the most seductive demon there was and he was certainly arrogant enough to make the attempt. She kept thinking of the storm in his soul, though, for that had been real. Luce was at war with himself – that she knew for certain.

  She'd promised she'd stay out of it until Persi needed her help. And the girl couldn't help but fail, with Luce like this.

  In the meantime, Persi was her responsibility – and she would watch over the girl as carefully as she could, while avoiding the depressed demon next door.

  Mel settled back into her body, rousing from slumber so she could shift it from the bed to the phone.

  Flexing her fingers, she dialled Raphael's number and heard his sleepy voice. "Mm? Mel? What is it?"

  "Persi called. This isn't just a fact-finding mission like you thought – the meetings are contract negotiations. Luce is taking the HELL Corporation global. He's sourced offices in several countries and he already has a signed contract with the US government – for their health services, the largest portfolio in their budget."

  "Oh Hell."

  "We need to gain control of HELL Corporation and remove Lucifer. Do you want to tell Persi? She'll have to get him to sign the documents somehow."

  Mel could almost hear Raphael thinking, before he finally said, "You tell Persi what she needs to do. I'll have some of our legal boys draft t
he contracts. Tell her to sell herself into slavery if she has to – but she needs to get him to sign those documents, whatever the cost."

  "I draw the line at her soul, Raphael. Her body is hers to do what she wants with, but I won't support her selling her soul."

  "Hers or yours, Mel – I'd hand hers over any day. It's a fair price to pay to thwart Lucifer in his bid for this much power."

  Mel sighed. She'd have preferred to proceed differently – with Luce's soul as the bargaining chip – but it was out of her hands now. At least, it was for the moment. "When she calls next, I'll tell her. You have a week to produce watertight contracts. Ones even American lawyers can't find loopholes in."

  "Are you a first aid officer?" a harried-looking man asked Mel.

  She put down her phone reluctantly, her mind still on the book about a writer's romance. "Yes. What's happened?" She rose from her seat.

  The man led the way through the cubicle maze. "We've had another incident in the store room. One bloke's unconscious and bleeding on the floor, while one of the girls from HR has injured her wrist, apparently with one of her heels. She says that the injury was sustained in self-defence..."

  Mel hurried after him, her own heels padding on the carpeted floor. Something seemed very strange today.

  The HR manager walked past, clutching a file to her chest and shaking her head. "This is bad, very bad. It's the third one today – the tenth this week – and it's only Tuesday..." she muttered to no one in particular.

  She reached the doorway of the store room and stopped, stunned.

  A man was indeed unconscious on the carpet; his head and shoulders had landed on the bottom of one of the shelving units. Through his forearm was a red stiletto heel, the gel cushion insert hanging out like the man's tongue. Black blood seeped from his arm onto the pile of telephone message pads beneath him.

  An hysterical Ana clutched a ream of paper to her chest, the fingers of one hand wrapped around the wrist of her other hand. "He deserved it! Thieving policy officer..."