Where Demons Fear to Tread

by Stephanie Chong

  Love. Love is the place where demons fear to tread.

  Sadness welled up inside her, for the life she wished she could have with Julian. A life she knew could never be. A week had passed like a blink of an eye. Tomorrow night, they would part. One day without him would stretch into two, three, a week, a month, a year. Decades would pass. Time would rush onward. She would always remember the time she’d spent with him, but the details would grow hazy. Those first, heady kisses in his office at Devil’s Paradise and in the library of his Beverly Hills mansion. Exploring the Vegas Strip with him. The feverish nights they’d spent, beginning to know each other’s bodies. The chaste kiss on the forehead he’d given her after their day at the Grand Canyon. And finally, their elated union last night, the ecstasy of it sweeping her into a different realm.

  These things would recede into the past, fading to distant memories. She knew this with absolute certainty, as she knew that human life must end, and people came and went from the earth like the ebb and flow of the ocean’s tides.

  She rested her head against his shoulder as they circled slowly. At last, she knew love. Finally, and without question or reservation. It was so beautiful she wanted to weep, both for the fact that she’d finally found it, and for the fact of its impossibility.

  “Don’t cry,” he said, brushing away the tear that slipped down her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

  “I’m not. There’s something in my eye.”

  “Bullshit. I thought you angels were made of stronger stuff.”

  The tears fell, dripping onto his shirt to leave water-mark stains. She tried to turn her head, but there was no way to hide from him.

  “Let’s get some air,” he said.

  He led her upstairs, to the terrace overlooking the Strip. Out there in the City of Dreams, the lights glittered beneath the black velvet sky. People partied. They gambled. Won fortunes. Lost their savings. Celebrated. Cried. Got married. Had flings. Drank themselves into oblivion and forgot why they’d come here. Serena wished she could forget, but Julian was etched into her memory forever. Nothing would erase him.

  She shivered a little in the cool night air. He came to stand behind her and pulled his suit jacket around her. Kissed the top of her head and murmured, “Remember this night. Look back on this time we had together, this time we stole from both God and the devil. I may be sent straight to the inner circle of hell for saying this, but you made me believe in love.”

  “I can’t believe you would be condemned for believing in love,” she said. “If angels can fall, can’t demons be redeemed?” Desperation churned in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed to keep it down.

  Behind her, he sighed, and it seemed as though she could hear years of weariness exhaled on that one long breath. “Sweetheart, I don’t think so. I would have to save a continent of starving children in order to atone for the damage I’ve caused.”

  “But there must be some way.” Even as she spoke the words, her mind could not contemplate a solution. She leaned back against him, searching for something to say. “Maybe you could start by praying,” she said finally. It was a naive suggestion, but the only one she had.

  He let out the tiniest snort of breath, and when he spoke, she heard the ironic amusement in his voice. “To whom do you suggest I pray?”

  “To whatever higher power you believe in. If you’re not comfortable with that, then appeal to the goodness within yourself.”

  “I’ve always gotten much better results appealing to the other side,” he said, the irony spreading to curl the corners of his lips.

  She peered up into his face, searching for a sign there, some glint of hope that he might be willing to fight. “Somewhere in you, there’s faith in the power of the divine. You just said you believe in love.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  They stood in silence for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, looking out over the night skyscape of this city of legends, this city that had sheltered their extraordinary love affair, if only for a week.

  They made love slowly, tenderly in Julian’s bed.

  “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said, trembling as he laid her back onto the sheets. After tonight’s events, he was grateful that she was here, safe in his arms.

  She kissed him then, more passionately, more ardently than he had ever hoped she would. “I want to.”

  He had succeeded in achieving his goal: he had made her crave his touch. But in the process, he had lost himself to her, utterly and irrevocably. He had never experienced such openness with a woman, nor had he guessed himself capable of such gentleness. When they made love, it was not the wild, acrobatic sex he usually engaged in. Staring into her eyes as she climaxed, he realized that he had meant it when he’d told her that she’d made him believe in love. Because he had fallen in love with her.

  He had opened up in ways he had never thought possible. He made love to her, trying to memorize every curve of her body so that the memory of it would last him a lifetime. Longer than a lifetime—an eternity. He would spend an eternity without her. Afterward, as they lay entwined in the dark, he contemplated his new definition of hell: existing without Serena. Satan himself could not have thought up a crueler punishment.

  Serena and Julian lay entwined, still awake as the night began to relent. He watched shadows flicker across the ceiling, wishing he could freeze these past few moments with her. The warmth of her body against his. The twinned sound of their breathing. The satin softness of her skin as he held her.

  All week, he had fooled himself into thinking that he could keep her. At this moment, he was the most dangerous thing to her. It was a miracle she hadn’t already fallen, but if she stayed with him, her fate would be sealed. He would destroy her. She would become another version of Luciana, a bitter demoness who seeped evil from every pore. Or worse, he would break her. Serena would become a dried-out shell of the woman she was now, a frightened little scrap of a creature whose existence had been ruined.

  He had always known that. How many lives had he ruined in exactly the same way? Now, faced with the decision, he knew he had to let Serena go. Not just because he had made a promise to God. But because it was the right thing to do. The right thing for her.

  The clock showed that it was almost four in the morning. Nearly twenty hours remained until their agreement expired. Midnight on Saturday night. But he knew that if he was going to give her up, he must do it now, before his resolve was burned away by the broad light of day. Before he saw her face radiant in the sun’s glow. Before he changed his mind and decided to ruin her forever.

  He rolled slightly, pushing her away from him and sitting up to turn on the bedside lamp. Avoided looking at her face to see the hurt there. Whatever he did, hurting her was inevitable. He would simply have to do it as swiftly and as cleanly as possible.

  “I’ve made a decision,” he said. “I’m releasing you from our agreement. You’re free to leave.”

  She pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness while he pulled on a pair of pants. She cleared her throat a little and said, “We have almost another whole day left. Don’t you want to spend it together?”

  He forced himself to turn, to look her in the eye with a steady gaze that was as impenetrable as his poker face. “That’s not a good idea,” he said with feigned casualness. “I’ve had my fill of what I wanted from you.”

  She gave a soft little laugh, threw an arm above her head with a little sigh. “I don’t believe that for a second. Not after how you just…”

  …reveled in the splendor of your body? Felt your soul vibrate beneath me, on top of me, within me? He cleared his throat and made himself say, “Do you think I haven’t pleasured countless numbers of others in exactly the same way? Serena, I think you should go.”

  She sat up, her glorious hair tumbling in disarray around her, falling to cover her naked breasts. “Are you kicking me out?” There was disbelief in her voice. Shock. A
hint of rage.

  “Our week together has been fun,” he said, keeping his tone cool. “But I’m afraid I’m not interested in pursuing any further contact with you.”

  “You’re in love with me,” she said. He had never heard it as an accusation before, and it stung. “You were always criticizing me because I was afraid to have fun. You’re afraid to fall in love.” From the bed, her eyes challenged him.

  “Don’t lecture me about fear, Serena. Until you’ve experienced the deepest reaches of hell, felt the fires of damnation burning the flesh from your bones, you have no right to judge me.” It was almost unbearable to look at her. Tears were beginning to form in her large blue eyes, pooling along their rims and threatening to spill over. He wanted so badly to look away, but he held his ground.

  “You’re afraid love will destroy you,” she whispered. “Do you know what I think? I think you’re acting out of fear. You’ve been corrupting people for so long, you don’t know what would happen if you stopped. If you don’t corrupt other people, you won’t be an Archdemon anymore. You’d just be another one of the damned. You’re afraid you’ll lose your power.”

  Let her believe that. He thought of a demon he’d known years ago, who had stopped one day. Just stopped. Refused to do his job, wouldn’t tempt another human. The Prince of Hell himself had ordered the demon to resume his responsibilities. That demon was now burning in the deepest reaches of hell, stripped of his demon status, flayed alive by Satan’s minions for the rest of eternity. Despite that, Julian would have suffered the fires of hell for her. But let her think he was releasing her for his own sake. She’d go with less of a struggle.

  “Demons are only angels who’ve made a mistake. They think they need to be punished, but all they really need to do is forgive themselves. Divine love heals all wounds,” she said.

  “Are you excusing my sins, Serena? Are you willing to forgive me for letting you go?”

  She dropped her gaze. “I’m not the right person to ask if you want atonement. You know who you need to ask.”

  Fury burned through him. That would happen when hell froze over. He walked to the bed and ripped the sheet away from her, exposing her nakedness. “Go.”

  She scrambled off the bed, tears tumbling down her cheeks.

  “What did you think would happen? That we’d end up living happily ever after? Life is not a fairy tale, Serena. I’m not Prince Charming.”

  He made himself continue. Because if he didn’t, she would make it her mission in life to reform him. And that, he knew, was utterly impossible. She would ruin herself in the process. “This was just a game,” he said. “A diversion. I saw you. I wanted you. I had never been with an angel before, so I took you.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she shot out.

  “What makes you think this conquest is any different from anything else I’ve done before?” She glared at him. Let her hate me. Let it be easier for her this way. He said the one thing she would not refuse. Could not refuse. Not when she was bound by duty. “Take Nick and get the hell out of here.”

  He stared out the window at the neon lights of the Strip below, not daring to look at her. Tried to focus on the world outside because he couldn’t bear to see the hurt and sorrow etched on her face, emotions he didn’t need to see because he could feel them in the place where his heart might have been, if he’d had one. Instead, the center of his chest felt as though a thousand shards of glass were exploding there.

  “I’ll send your clothes after you,” he muttered.

  “I don’t want the clothes.”

  Of course she didn’t. She wanted him. Better that she didn’t take anything that reminded her of him. He would destroy it all, leave behind nothing to mark their time together. “Suit yourself,” he said. He turned and walked out of the room.

  In the living room, he poured himself a drink, downing two fingers of scotch like it was water. He poured himself another, and tried to ignore her crying, the muffled, breathless gasps that ripped at the core of him. He snatched up the bottle of scotch and went out onto the balcony.

  Choices. For once, he had made the choice to put someone else before himself. It was better that she left, went back to Los Angeles. Back to her safe little life, far away from him. It was the oldest adage in the world: if you love something, let it go.

  In a matter of minutes, she had dressed and gathered some things from her bedroom. She swept through the living room and out the front door, leaving him standing in the night air, staring out at the dark sky over Vegas.

  She was gone. In her place, there was only emptiness.

  Tears were still pouring down Serena’s face as she banged on Nick’s door. For the longest time, there was no answer. Was he even in there? Julian’s Gatekeeper thugs were supposedly keeping him safe. But maybe Julian had failed her in that, too.

  She was about to give up when Nick opened the door, just a tiny crack until he saw it was her. His hair was rumpled, and he squinted in the hallway light. He took one look at her face and said, “What’s wrong?”

  She heard the faint rustling of sheets coming from a bedroom that was out of view. Just inside the door, a woman’s high-heeled shoes lay on the floor, apparently kicked off in haste. Perhaps Tiffany had managed her way into Nick’s bed, after all.

  Whoever it was, Serena didn’t want to know. But there was one thing she did know: whoever was in Nick’s bedroom had not managed to dim the infatuation shining in his eyes as he looked at Serena now. And she would use that infatuation, say whatever she had to say in order to get Nick out of here.

  She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m going back to L.A. If you care about me at all, you’ll come with me now. Please.”

  Baiting him with his feelings for her was unfair. But she could think of no better strategy to lure him away from these demons. She must succeed this time. She had come here for this purpose, to protect him. She would not get another chance.

  “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until morning?” he said, blinking again. His gaze slid to the interior of the hotel suite, toward the bedroom.

  “It’s dangerous. I need you to come with me, Nick,” she pleaded. “I’ll explain on the way.”

  Along with the concern, desire flickered in his eyes. Every other time she’d seen that desire, she’d ignored it, discouraged it. This time, she looked back, letting her gaze lock with his.

  “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in the lobby,” he said.

  Crossing the lobby, Serena paused, watching the hotel guests pass through. Even at this hour of the morning, it was still busy with people stumbling in from last night. Julian’s new nightclub hadn’t even opened its doors yet. He was now the owner of one of the most successful hotels in Vegas. She imagined him strolling through the lobby, king of his domain. Or standing above it all, watching the casino from a vantage point beside the pit boss. No wonder he had sent her away. Julian had bigger things to keep him occupied.

  She sank into one of the lobby’s leather sofas, suddenly exhausted from everything that had happened that night: the poker game, their dance in the empty club, the last act of lovemaking with Julian. The day had drained her. In fact, the whole week had drained her. Yet, her gaze still tracked toward the elevator, hoping against hope that the polished metal doors would slide open, and Julian would emerge. Tell her that he loved her. That they would never be apart. She prayed for him to change his mind. To come after her.

  From across the lobby, she heard a man call, “Serena! Wait!”

  Had her prayer been answered? Harry scuttled through the crowds, waving wildly. Her heart leaped. Surely Julian had sent him. He had sent Harry to bring her back. They would be together. Everything would be fine.

  “Thank God you haven’t left the hotel yet. Julian sent me to find you,” Harry said, a little out of breath. “He wanted me to give you back your cell phone.” He handed it to her.

  She stared at the little object in her palm, tried for a faltering little smile. �
��Thanks.”

  Harry put a hand on her shoulder, steadied her. “He told me to arrange a car for you, to take you to the airport. Or if you prefer, to drive you back to L.A.”

  What she really wanted was to go back upstairs, back to Julian. To fall into his arms, to cry until she’d run out of tears. But Julian had made it clear that he didn’t want her.

  From behind her, Nick said, “I’ll take her home. My driver will pull the car around front.”

  In the back of his limo, Nick held her hand. Not asking for an explanation, with that small gesture he comforted her. Not as a lover but as a friend. As the car swung onto Las Vegas Boulevard, the road ahead of them was all but deserted at this hour of the morning. She kept her tears inside this time, numb from the shock of leaving.

  In that moment, she realized that Nick had finally come to understand platonic friendship. Ironic, the Assignee offering support to his Guardian. But as her hand settled in the warmth of his, she realized that she had inadvertently fostered something in her Assignee that she could not have done by simply sheltering or continuing to babysit him.

  Nick had learned compassion.

  Julian sat at the hotel bar, plugging twenty dollar bills into the electronic poker game built into the bar top. He was on a losing streak—none of the money came back. A half-empty highball of gin and tonic sat beside him, the latest of eight in a row since Serena had left. He downed it in one chug.

  At long last, he was the master of his domain. Corbin was gone. He had no one to answer to. Devil’s Ecstasy would open its doors to the public. It would be outrageously successful. He should be happy. Instead, he was sitting here, drinking himself into a stupor.

  “Sir?” Harry’s voice drifted behind him. “Are you all right, sir?”

  Julian turned and looked at him through squinting eyes. “Fine, Harry,” he said, although he felt far from fine.

  “She’s gone, sir. Nick took her home.”

  Harry sounded sorry for him. The last thing Julian needed was someone’s pity. But he had it. Harry stood awkwardly, wringing his hands as though he might hug his boss at any moment. Julian scowled and said in a gruff tone, “Put a bodyguard on her, Harry. I don’t trust Corbin.”