by RJ Blain
“Snow,” the Devil blurted. “You want me to put snow in my house?”
“It would make her very pleased with you and might earn you some spot counting.”
I considered the archangel’s words. “He’s not wrong. I love winter, because winter is when the snow comes to visit me. I’m too poor to go up to the mountains to visit the snow. Last year didn’t have more than a few inches of snow. It was terrible.”
“But snow?”
I couldn’t help myself. I grinned and replied, “I guess that means there’s a snowball’s chance in hell of you getting to count any more spots.”
The Devil growled. “I should punish you for that.”
I slapped his wrist with the riding crop, and he yelped. “You will not.”
“Wicked feline!”
“Yes.” I returned to my work, printing out the file I’d constructed on Lorenzo Gallo and his assortment of bullying mafia members. Unlike the printers I was familiar with, his printed on both sides and wasted no time spitting out the sheets. “Okay. I’m ready for you to take me home, where you can enjoy counting two spots of my choice before you have to do your share of the work. And anyway, don’t feel too badly, Lucifer. I already told you business came before pleasure, and until my work here is done, you really do have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting to count any more spots. You’ll get over it, I’m sure.”
“I absolutely will not get over your cruel mistreatment.”
Laughing, I released the Devil from his chains. “You’ll survive. And I’ll survive, too, because if you kill me, you can’t count my spots, and I’d just be yet another fucking asshole in residence here.”
“She has you figured out, Lucifer,” Gabriel announced.
“You came here to witness my defeat at the hands of a mortal woman, didn’t you?” the Devil accused.
“That plus to pass a message,” Michael said.
“A message? What message? When He wants something, he usually bothers me personally, because He knows it annoys me.”
“Do not panic,” Michael replied, and a moment later, both archangels disappeared.
The Devil frowned. “Should I be worried?”
“That depends. What would make you panic?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. How odd.” The Devil hopped off his desk and held out his hand. “Shall I take you back to your home? I must count my two owed spots, handle my promised share of the work, and pay my heavenly father a visit, as I now have some questions for him.”
The Devil would be busy, and I smiled, taking hold of his hand. “Just don’t lose my brother on the way. Despite appearances, I do love him.”
“Don’t worry. I intend on taking good care of your brother. It would not do to lose hope of counting your spots due to his demise.”
I suspected Jonas would make me pay for the Devil’s attention later, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. “Keep dreaming, Lucifer.”
Eight
Fine lines separated revenge, vengeance, and justice.
Within five minutes of the Devil taking me home and placing my brother in his new cage, I staggered to my bed, showed him the two spots he could fiddle with to his heart’s content, and passed out. Waking to a persistent knock at my door annoyed a growl out of me, and still dressed in my rumpled clothes, I stomped across my home, checking the peephole to discover two of the mafia goons standing at my doorstep.
One held roses, both wore suits, and the absurdity of the situation gave me pause. I picked up my brother’s gun, which had somehow gotten onto the stand in the entry, checked it over, and without disengaging the chain, I cracked open the door. “What do you want?”
“Our boss sends a gift and his regards, and he wishes to know if you will be accepting his invitation.”
Well, as accepting his invitation would be critical for my plans to send him straight to the nastiest hell I could find for him, despite my lack of coffee and foul mood, I forced myself to cooperate. I straightened, closed the door, disengaged the chain, and let the assholes in. “There are a few rules in my house. Even look at my brother wrong, and I shoot you. I’ll even go dance naked on your grave and invoke the Devil’s name trying to make him show up and make sure you get to hell. If you’re pulling any tricks, I recommend you don’t even try it with me today. I’m not in the mood.”
“We have no ill intentions,” the asshole with the roses replied, offering the bouquet to me. “Our boss wishes to apologize for his lack of foresight in this matter, as he was unaware of how interesting a woman you are.”
Having read Lorenzo Gallo’s file, I recognized when that meant he wanted to take me to his bed whether or not I wanted to join him, but he’d use enticements before settling for rape. I accepted the roses, opted against sniffing them in case they’d been laced with something, and transferred them to my mother’s vase on the end table. She’d always kept an empty vase out just in case flowers wandered her way and required containment. “Apologies won’t bring my brother back.”
“He is aware of that, and wishes to discuss an arrangement with you, which is why he is so eager to learn if you’ll be accepting his invitation.”
“I have a condition.” The last thing I needed was to go anywhere private with a known rapist and murderer, so I’d have to do my best to arrange the situation to protect myself while leading to his downfall. “I want to pick the location, and he has to pay for it. If he’s going to be sending roses, then I may as well enjoy the wining and the dining while listening to whatever proposal he may have in mind. I get to pick where we go, but I’ll keep his proposed date and time. If he wishes to change the proposed date and time, you know where to find me.”
The two assholes exchanged glances, and after a moment, they shrugged. While bereft of roses, the asshole who’d brought them in nodded. I gave him credit; while he had more scars than sense, he had enough brain cells in his skull to recognize when to be wary.
I’d enjoy sending his ass to the Devil’s many hells and refining the art of torture on him for his long collection of sins.
I’d seen parts of his file, too, and he’d crossed every last one of the Devil’s lines.
Fine lines separated revenge, vengeance, and justice, and I meant to dance on them all with a ballerina’s grace. When I finished, the triumphs would balance the tragedies, and I expected I’d earn my place in the Devil’s many hells before I finished my work.
Another reason crept into the back of my head, one that wouldn’t have mattered to me the day before yesterday.
When little Kanika grew up, there would be filth in the world still, but I would personally eliminate some of it so she might never experience the terrors they inflicted on others. That alone would make eternal damnation worth my while.
Somebody had to care what happened to her in the future, and there was nobody else.
“We’ll let him know,” the asshole replied. “And should he wish to meet with you sooner?”
“I’d rather not. Family is important to me, and he’s broken mine. I doubt any offer he can make will do any good, unless he’s willing to bargain with the Devil to undo what he’s done.” If he wanted to get screwed by the Devil instead of me, the final destination mattered more than the method, as long as the asshole found his way into a dungeon where I could sink my claws into him.
I’d have to ask Belial to loan me the riding crop again, as I bet it’d be an excellent tool in my arsenal.
“The Devil?” the asshole blurted.
“I’ve been told by an angel the Devil is the only one who might be able to help my brother now, and I’ve nothing to offer him.”
Well, except the right to count my spots to his content, and I intended to withhold my spots as much as necessary to get what I wanted. Trusting the devil to have only counted two spots while I’d slept classified as a moronic move on my part, but the Devil came across as the kind who enjoyed his victories and found no satisfaction in taking the easier road.
I unde
rstood and respected that. Hell, if I’d been in the Devil’s shoes, I wouldn’t have counted any spots at all because the game couldn’t be half played. I’d have to find out if the Devil had endured even more frustration because of my exhaustion.
Poor Lucifer. He’d survive. Maybe.
“If you’d had the money, you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place,” the asshole conceded. “It is unfortunate he, until now, had been unaware of you and your exotic beauty.” The fucking asshole stared at my chest, as did his buddy. “He would have accepted other forms of payment on your brother’s behalf. Perhaps an arrangement can be made.”
I read between the lines, but as I needed to play the game, I ignored the implication I could sell sex to cover my brother’s debts. “I’ll think about it, but I have to get ready to go to work.”
Someone knocked at my door, and tempted to scream at the invasion of people I wanted nothing to do with, I checked the peephole to discover the Devil had come calling, and if I hadn’t known better, I would’ve believed him to be an unusually hot human in a black suit. To my amusement, he’d gone with a bright blue tie for a splash of color. I opened the door. “What can I do for you?”
The Devil smirked and held out an extra-large iced coffee. “It’s not chocolate, and it’s not on your pillow, but I figured you’d prefer this in its mostly frozen state rather than melted and messy.”
If spot counting while passed out got me my favorite treat, I’d put some serious thought into driving the Devil mad with my criteria for being able to count a single spot. I accepted the drink, took a sip, and sighed. “Enjoy your math lessons yesterday?”
“My tutor became sadly unavailable. May I come in? I noticed you have company.”
Fucking assholes, both of them, I mouthed to the Devil.
He smiled, and the rather unfriendly nature of his expression intrigued me.
Who knew something as simple as a smile could be full of promise and lies?
“Sure. They were about to leave.” I took another sip of my coffee, wondering how much of a fight the succubi would put up once they realized the Devil could be trained to be the ultimate morning provider of necessary treats, such as iced coffee. If he brought me treats after skipping his owed spot counting, there was hope for him. Poor succubi, unable to train the Devil to be a provider of excellent treats. Maybe I needed to go take over the place to teach them how to train the Devil properly. “Is there anything else I can do for you gentleman?”
They glared at the Devil, as though they expected their scarred faces to deter my divine guest. When that didn’t work, they left, muttering curses the entire way to their black car parked at the end of my driveway.
I waited until they were out of sight before closing the door and returning my brother’s gun to its rightful place on the entry stand. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“I forget how tiring my presence can be for mortals.”
“It was more I’d been up way past my bedtime than anything else. Yesterday had been long and hard. What time is it?”
The Devil checked his cell phone, which was far smaller than the portable bricks most carried with them, oddly flat and compact, with more glass than plastic. “It is a little after two.”
Shit. To be on time for work, I needed to teleport three hours into the past. “I’m blaming you when I get fired for not showing up at my job.”
“I will offer you a competitive salary for access to a single spot per day.”
As he hadn’t specified it needed to be a new spot, I considered his offer. “Monetary incentives only, with a five minute minimum and a thirty minute maximum of how much affection you can display to the spot of my choice.”
“Yes, those terms are acceptable. I will include a clause where I can attempt to negotiate for up to two hours with the spot of your choice. Otherwise, it will be a standard employment opportunity. As I want continual access to your spots, I will even give you fair terms, excellent health insurance, and daily opportunities to tell me no.”
Damn. When the Devil wanted something, he made damned good offers. “I’m going to have one of your brothers review any and all paperwork involved with my employment. Let me call my boss and notify him I’ll be quitting before he calls and fires me for not showing. I’ll just tell him I was sick today. I’m obviously delirious and running a high fever. Then you can pitch me a figure. Think about if there’s any other real work I can do for you, because I work hard for the money despite my inability to show up at my job today.”
The Devil pulled out his odd cell phone, dialed a number, and held it to his ear. “Michael, could you smooth things over at Darlene’s place of employment? She is acquiring employment elsewhere. What? No. I am not hiring her to be a sexual deviant.”
Did spot counting classify as sexual deviance? Considering there’d been no sex on the table, his desk, or anywhere else, either the Devil had some strange kinks or he just liked plush fur.
“I’ll be paying her for her operations involving my many hells, and I have been issued a hiring incentive of one spot per weekday. She even set time limits on how much attention I can pay to the spot of her choice. It’s cruel, really. I’m even letting her tell me no. She would like you or Gabriel to confirm the paperwork so I don’t try to pull any tricks on her. I really would, too. I am who I am, and I want what I want, and I really want access to those spots. Do not make me pluck your feathers for admiring her spots too intently. You can admire them a little, at a distance.”
“Lucifer, neither Michael nor Gabriel have nipples. That’s a dealbreaker for me.”
“Hold on a sec, Michael.” The Devil pointed his phone at me. “You were looking at their chests?”
“If they had nipples, they’d have perfect chests. Michael put on some nipples for a few minutes, but he made them go away again. You better believe I was looking at their chests! If you want to keep your nipples, you better change your tune, Lucifer. I can look all I fucking want. You got it?”
“Can I respectfully ask that you do not touch unless you’re touching mine?”
I thought about it. “You can ask, but considering you have a gauntlet of single succubi to worry about, you have more problems than whether or not I want to touch some man’s nipples.”
The Devil put his phone back to his ear. “Can you believe this, Michael? What did you do to her? She has no fear of me, she really just does not give a flying fuck if I become upset with her, and I’m rather dismayed how interested she is in your chest.”
“No nipples,” I reminded him. “Dealbreaker means I’m not interested without the nipples. If I am forced to cut your nipples off, you become vastly less interesting than you currently are, so I recommend you take good care of them. They’re mandatory.”
“The rest of my body is equally appealing, thank you,” he muttered.
“Is it?” I shrugged and sipped my iced coffee. According to the painting, he was a prime specimen any sane woman would want to enjoy repeatedly. However, as he boasted the title of the Lord of Lies, I would withhold judgment. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”
“Do you hear this, Michael? She’s utterly unrepentant!”
“There is a reason I’m going to hell. Being unrepentant is one of those reasons.”
“You’re going to hell because you walked in and decided to take it over yesterday,” he countered.
“Well, yes. But after I kick the bucket, there’s a good reason I’m going to hell. Scratch that. There are a lot of good reasons I’m going to hell. Try to keep my torture reasonable, please. I’ve been bad, but I haven’t been that bad.”
The Devil grunted, and he held the phone out towards me. “Michael wants to talk to you.”
I eyed the device. “How does it work?”
“Just put the glass part against your ear. It’s a phone, it’s just oddly shaped. I cheat.”
“How did you cheat this time?”
“Advanced production, and I fully intend on bargaining with some idiot human
to develop these sooner in the mortal world so I don’t have to keep cheating to have half-decent technology.” The Devil put the phone into my hand. “This is the top, and it goes near your ear.”
“But it won’t reach my mouth.”
“It doesn’t need to. Just hold that part to your ear and talk like normal. He’ll be able to hear you.”
Considering my landline had enough trouble, I had my doubts, but I held the device as directed and said, “Hey, Michael.”
“Darlene,” the archangel replied. “Is my brother bothering you?”
“He brought me an iced coffee, so no. I owe him two spot counts because I decided it was nap time when I got home, and he seems to want to indulge in spot counting while I’m conscious.”
“It does tend to be more entertaining for him if his partner is conscious.”
“That’s something. What can I do for you?”
“Did you handle the flowers given to you?”
“Only long enough to put them into a vase. I opted against sniffing them.”
“They are poisoned,” the archangel announced. “The delivery service has been given the antidote, but you will begin experiencing symptoms within the next day. Your target plans to use your worsening condition to gain your compliance.”
“Well, that’s rude.”
“It is a rather lethal toxin with a slow onset. By the time of your meeting date, you will be quite ill. The envelope you received was likewise contaminated, but you had minimal exposure due to the care you took. I have been monitoring the situation.”
“Well, that’s really rude. Not you, but him.”
The archangel chuckled. “It is quite rude of him, indeed. In good news, there is an antidote, but he intends to deceive you by giving you a less potent antidote to make you reliant on him.”
“That sounds like a damned good reason to send him to fucking hell in a handbasket.”
“What is it with mortals and going to pay me visits in baskets? What is with your obsession with baskets? I do not understand why mortals insist on coming to me in a basket. Where would you find one large enough? Why a basket? If you’re going to visit me, you should at least travel in comfort.”