He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot

by Stephanie Rowe

  “Hey, asshole,” Theresa said.

  No, Theresa. Don’t get involved. Becca struggled to find her voice, but the pain was too extreme. If she opened her mouth again, she’d start screaming or sobbing or something equally unworthy of Satan’s best Rivka. “Um…boss…”

  “Theresa!” Satan exclaimed. “It is so lovely to see the comrade of the fruit of my loins. You are wonderful with fire. Would you care to replace my best Rivka after I kill her? The benefits of working for me are extensive. I can send you copy of my employee handbook, if you like.”

  “Let her go,” Theresa said.

  “Go where? She is dying, cannot you see that?”

  Becca dropped to her knees, clutching her throat, trying to yank out the unseen daggers slicing at her skin. It really hurt. She couldn’t…think…

  “Why is she dying?” Theresa’s voice was blurry and distant, nearly obliterated by the pain shredding Becca’s body.

  “Because she tried to cut my lifeline to her. So I poison the lifeline and threw it back at her, and now she dies. It is delightfully ironic, is it not? She gets what she wants and then she dies for it? I love irony.”

  “Let her go, or I’ll kill you.”

  Oh, no. Take it back, Theresa. Don’t take on Satan for me.

  Satan was silent for a moment, and Becca forced her eyes to open a slit and squinted up at her boss. Satan was dressed in an impeccable Italian suit, and he was wearing a boutonniere. His luscious dark hair was styled in a new coif, he was freshly shaven, and he looked debonair enough to be welcomed into any palace. He was inspecting Theresa with an interested gleam in his eye that made Becca’s stomach curl. “You care very much for the Rivka?” he asked.

  “Of course I do,” Theresa snapped. “She rocks, not that you’d ever be man enough to realize it.”

  Shut up, you stupid dragon!

  “Does she care for you, as well? She would be upset if something happened to you, no?” He turned his head toward Becca, and she felt him ease up slightly on her pain, momentarily distracted. “Answer me, Rivka. Do you care what happens to the dragon?”

  Once again, Satan had forgotten who he was dealing with. Hello? When he ordered her to answer his question, he’d neglected to specify that she give him the truth. She met his gaze, taking a deep breath to try to fight off the thrum of pain so she could speak. “Satan, you know I think you’re the man.” She almost grinned as he preened under her words. “The dragon means nothing to me. Chop her up. You’re it for me, big guy.”

  Theresa squawked in protest, but Becca didn’t dare look at the dragon.

  Satan narrowed his eyes. “I think I will take you up on that. I have never tortured dragon before. Would it hurt very much to pluck each scale off, one by one? Perhaps if I made you do it? That would be much fun, no?”

  There was a thud and a whoosh of air, and she knew Theresa had decided to vacate. She relaxed slightly. Whatever Satan did to her she could handle, now that Theresa was gone.

  “You’re such a great torturer. I’d be honored to watch you in action,” she gushed, hoping his insecurities would fade in the face of such devotion from his loyal Rivka. Given that he ruled all of hell, one would think he wouldn’t be threatened by his favorite Rivka having friends, but hey, even Satan had insecurities. It wasn’t his fault, but until he started going to therapy, Becca wasn’t about to endanger anyone by getting close and snuggly with them. Been there, done that, no room for any more guilt.

  The leader of hell and his right hand stared at each other, and she gave him the wide-eyed look of utter adoration that she’d perfected over the decades. “Is that a new suit? It’s gorgeous.”

  Satan blinked, then smiled and patted his breast. “Yes, yes, I hope to woo the fair Iris with it. Do you know she is not easy to dominate and manipulate in relationship? I am feeling quite lost.”

  Iris Bennett was the former Guardian of the Goblet of Eternal Youth. After getting her killed and demoted two hundred years ago in his quest to steal the Goblet from her Guardianship, Satan had been trying to woo her ever since, and he’d finally gotten her in his bed a few weeks ago, but it sounded like things weren’t going so well.

  “You’ll figure it out. Dating’s tough. Want me to talk to her?”

  “Yes…” Satan’s face suddenly darkened, and Becca’s pain level shot back up. “How can you help me? You try to leave me! How is Satan supposed to terrorize the entire world without his best Rivka? Why do you not like me anymore? Why do you reject me?”

  Becca hunched over, gritting her teeth. “I don’t reject you,” she managed. “I just need a little space—” She gasped as something sharp pierced her spine. “Or not.”

  Satan harrumphed and straightened up, and a fresh surge of violent pain stabbed every inch of her. Her body spasmed and she screamed, unable to stop herself. “Satan…stop…”

  “It will take you several thousand years to die. The pain will increase exponentially every six hours, and your body will eat itself from the inside out. Does it not sound delightful? One of my new scientist souls just figured out how to do that to my Rivkas, and this is my first chance to try it.” He peered more closely at her. “Does it hurt very much, Rivka?”

  Several thousand years of this? Impossible. She gazed up into his beautiful blue eyes and knew he’d won. But she’d won, too, because he hadn’t hurt Theresa. “Re-establish the link.” Her voice was harsh with agony, but she knew he understood.

  His smile became broader. “Hmm…”

  Her stomach lurched, and she turned her head toward his feet. If she lost it, the least she could do was ruin his polished shoes.

  “You are my best Rivka. I gain much benefit from having your services. Perhaps I should spare you despite your ultimate betrayal.” Satan rubbed his chin and studied her thoughtfully. “So, what shall I demand in return for permitting you to continue to wreak havoc upon the world in my name? Hmm…so many choices.”

  A groan leaked out of her, and she crumbled the rest of the way to the ground, no longer able to will herself to stay on her knees. Satan chuckled. God help me.

  How could she owe him anything? Was there really something that he had to negotiate for, that she didn’t have to give automatically? She gave a raspy hack as she rolled to her side in the grass, crunched in a ball.

  “I shall have to consult my experts on how best to use this situation to benefit me and torture you,” Satan said. “But I will collect. We agree to agree. Agreed?”

  She knew it would be a mistake, but she had no choice. She managed a nod. She grimaced when Satan clapped his hands together with glee. “This is a monumental event. I have outsmarted my best Rivka for the first time. This is quite fun. No wonder you do this to me all the time. I shall have to develop this skill more completely so I can torture you more often.”

  Lucky me. “And you wonder why I need space,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “I can’t wait. It’ll be good bonding.”

  “Yes, it will, my favorite Rivka.” He leaned down and patted her head. “I release you from the pain. You will live, and I will be back to tell you what you owe me. Have a lovely evening. And tell dragon I will still hire her as my second-best Rivka. And please, come to dinner on Sunday night. We can converse about how powerful and virile I am, and you shall regale me with stories about all the people you met this week who idolize me.” And with that, he vanished in an explosion of gold bubbles, and the pain vanished abruptly from Becca’s body.

  She sagged against the ground, her face mashed in the cool dirt as she gasped for air.

  There was a fluttering sound, a loud crash on the earth, and the ground shuddered as Theresa landed where Satan had been. She scooped up Ellie with the vase and sat next to Becca with a thump. “Wow. Are you okay?”

  “Peachy.” Becca closed her eyes as tremors began to wrack her body. She was so cold. So weak. Couldn’t move. Just wanted to lie there.

  “Cold?” Theresa leaned closer, let out a growl, then
set Becca on fire.

  Yes. Becca arched under the heat, absorbing it into her body, pulling it into all the damaged cells as the tremors began to fade.

  “So, he crushed you like a gnat, huh?”

  Becca took a shuddering breath. “I’m not a gnat.”

  “You look sort of like one.”

  “Feel like one.” Was she drooling? Probably. Too much effort to swallow. She’d just lie here for the next decade or so until she got her strength back.

  She felt Theresa shift beside her. “Well, Ellie survived though. That’s good news.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” One less thing to feel guilty about. The night was looking up.

  “So, are we going to try your spell again?”

  “Not tonight.” Such a bummer. A century of planning and anticipation shot to hell. Literally. God, she felt like crying. Like sobbing. Like lying on her stomach and throwing a full-fledged temper tantrum. “Thanks for coming back.”

  “It’s not because we’re friends, just so you know.”

  Becca managed to peel her eyes open, then jerked back to find Theresa’s golden eyes less than an inch from her face. “So you understand now why we can’t be friends?”

  Theresa’s scaly face bobbed up and down. “Oh, I get it.”

  “It’s about damned time.” Becca couldn’t keep from grinning, even though it hurt to move her face. She felt like her body was melting into the restoring earth.

  “So, you going to stay there all night?” Theresa asked.

  “No. Let’s go.” She mentally ordered herself home.

  Nothing happened. She didn’t turn into an inky black cloud and melt through the ground and then pop up through the floor of her condo. She was still in human form, and still in the park. Damn. She’d never been too weak to shimmer.

  Theresa sighed. “Seeing as how I still owe you for about a zillion favors, I guess that means I’ll have to fly you home.” She wedged Ellie’s vase carefully between her teeth, then slid her claws under Becca’s body.

  Home. Her bed sounded so good right now.

  They took to the air, and she felt Theresa’s scales snag on her jacket. She realized Satan would be watching Theresa closely now, looking for any evidence that Becca actually cared about her.

  It was time to break off with the dragon completely.

  She swallowed hard at the sudden bleakness in her gut, then forced herself to remember that she’d actually broken the link tonight.

  Her process had worked. She was close, she knew it. So damned close.

  She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate on that small victory, refusing to acknowledge the aching emptiness inside her that never went away.

  Three

  Becca woke up the next morning to find a fire-breathing dragon trying to set her hair on fire. “Dammit, Theresa. You need to get out of here. Did you learn nothing last night?” Becca tugged the pillow over her head and rolled away from her, almost tempted to wallow in self-pity over last night’s failure. She burrowed deeper under the down comforter, snuggling into its warmth, not quite able to make herself get up and force the dragon out the door. “I’m still traumatized.”

  “You are not. You’re a Rivka. You have no emotions.” Theresa gave the covers a yank and sent them tumbling to the floor. “Holy cow! What are you sleeping in?”

  She cringed as she recalled the sleeping attire she’d put on in the middle of the night after a Satan-induced nightmare had woken her up. “Shut up.” She flung her legs over the side of the bed and stalked to her closet, trying to ignore Theresa gawking at her. So what if she slept in a pale pink lace camisole and silk boxers? Didn’t mean she was soft.

  The dragon whistled softly. “I had no idea you were a sex kitten. Rabid wolverine who sleeps fully armed in leather or chain-link armor, yes. Fluffy little sex kitten? Not so much.”

  Becca grinned at the analogy. “Usually I do. I was too tired to put it on.” She yanked on a pair of black spandex shorts and a sports bra. Her body was still shaky and weak, and her head hurt like a mother. She needed to clear her brain and focus on last night. Figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. She was so close, too close to give up. “What are you doing in my condo? Shouldn’t you be trading sexual favors with Zeke or something?”

  “Zeke’s out of town looking for one of my sisters, so I crashed here last night.” The dragon sprawled out on Becca’s bed, eliciting groans of protest from the springs. “I figured you wouldn’t be in shape to take on Satan if he showed up, so I decided to stay and take care of you. In full dragon form, of course. My human form isn’t quite up to hand-to-hand combat with your boss, you know?”

  Becca’s throat tightened at the thought of Theresa hanging out all night keeping an eye on her, but she quickly shook it off. “I don’t need a dragon to keep me safe.”

  “And you don’t need friends, either. I know, you’ve said it like a million times already.”

  Becca couldn’t help but grin at Theresa’s dismissive tone. “You’re like a self-destructive stalker.” She jerked a brush through her short hair, then grabbed a pair of ankle socks and her running shoes and sat down next to the dragon to pull them on.

  Theresa bobbed her blue-scaled head. “Oh, and when you didn’t arrive at Vic’s central offices at your usual hour of five-thirty in the morning, your admin called in search of you. I told her you’d gotten a minor case of food poisoning and would be in as soon as possible.” She flicked her gaze over Becca. “Figured that would explain the pale, wan look you’re sporting today.”

  Great. She must look as crappy as she felt. That wasn’t acceptable. Looking good was half the battle to feeling decent. “And she believed you?”

  “Yep. She told you to get well as soon as possible, preferably by three o’clock, because the president of McDonald’s wants to meet with you to iron out the sticky points of their distribution.”

  “Okay, that’s fine then. I can make it by three.” A long hot shower, a couple of rounds with the coffeemaker, her black power suit, some concealer for the dark circles under her eyes, and she’d be all set.

  “So, you want to go to the Vic’s on the corner for pretzels and coffee, or what?”

  Becca smiled as she tugged on a pair of sneakers. “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t have time. I’m going for a run to shake the aches out before work.”

  “Exercise, huh? Maybe I should add that to my regime…” Theresa rubbed her jaw as she considered it. “Or maybe not. There are too many runners in this world already, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want to overpopulate.”

  Becca strapped her running watch around her wrist. “Okay, I’m out of here.” She hesitated. “Thanks for…um…”

  The dragon waved a claw. “No need to torture yourself by thanking me. We’re good.”

  Becca took a deep breath and looked at the dragon. “That whole Markku rebellion really scarred him, you know? Having all his servants turn on him in a major mutiny made him go a little crazy on any of his minions who have friends.” She shrugged. “He can’t stand his Rivkas having loyalty to anyone but him.”

  There was a flicker of acknowledgment in the dragon’s yellow eyes. “Why do boys have such problems sharing their toys? Girls share. Boys own. So annoying.”

  Becca smiled at Theresa’s irreverent tone. “Satan’s in his own class of being a spoiled little boy.”

  Theresa rolled to her feet, landing with a thud that rattled the mirror over Becca’s pine bureau. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t let you cut me out, but I have a dependent now. It would majorly bum Zeke out if Satan abducted me and tortured me for all eternity.”

  Becca saw the scales on the dragon’s face soften at the thought of her husband. “You go take care of Zeke. I’ll be fine. I’ve got things to do.”

  Theresa nodded, and for a moment they looked at each other. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  “I’ll never call,” Becca said.

  “I know you won’t.” Ther
esa sighed, then marched over to the closet and pulled out one of the studded leather jackets Becca used when she was on Rivka duty. “I’m going to steal this to remember you by, okay?”

  “It’s my favorite coat.”

  “All the more reason.” Theresa dropped some sparks on Becca’s maple floors, leaving a series of burn marks. “For you to remember me. Dragon kisses.” She carefully wrapped Becca’s leather jacket in a blanket, then laid it over her scaly forearm. “There’s just one more thing before I go.”

  “Dare I ask?” Becca put her hand on the doorknob and opened it, suddenly wanting the good-bye over.

  Theresa’s dragon eyes glittered with anticipation. “There’s a flighty blonde in your kitchen that needs to be whacked upside the head with a frying pan, and I was hoping you’d let me have the honors before I left. Sort of a good-bye present from one badass to another?”

  Becca stared at the dragon. “What are you talking about?”

  “The girl in your kitchen. She showed up here around four in the morning. I had to gag her and tie her up to shut her up. She was giving me a headache. I don’t know why you can’t have hot guys visit you instead of ditzy females.” Theresa sighed, setting fire to the pale blue quilt. “Then I could have strip-searched him to make sure he was no danger to you.”

  Like she had time to deal with some intruder. Becca pointed to the flaming comforter. “What’d she want?”

  Theresa sat down on the fire and smothered it with a few wiggles of her dragon butt. “She said Satan sent her, which is why I refrained from toasting her. Thought maybe you’d want to do it, but if you don’t, then I would love to.”

  “Satan sent her?” Becca frowned as she worked that one through her mind. “Is she an assassin?” Was he really that pissed about her trying to break free of him? He’d be lost without her, though. He couldn’t afford to kill her. Dammit. Why was everyone trying to kill her now, when she was so close to getting free?

  “Could be. If so, she’s not a very good one. She tried to knock me out with a kick to the head. Idiot. Everyone knows you can’t take down a dragon that way.” Theresa sat up. “Let’s have a contest. We’ll take turns assaulting the blonde and whoever knocks her out first will be declared Badass of the Day.”