by RJ Blain
I stared at the Devil. “Really?”
“What? What is it with you mortals and baskets? Really. I want to know.”
“Handbaskets are pretty and usually used to send gifts, I guess. I don’t know. It’s just a saying. Go sniff the poisoned flowers if you want to have a reason to whine.”
“Did you just suggest my brother should go poison himself?” Michael blurted.
“Why not? It’s not like it’s going to kill him or anything. I’m sure he’ll just want to whine.” I went to the roses, wrinkling my nose. To all appearances, they seemed normal enough. “There’s nothing obvious on them.”
“That is because he took care to disguise it. He spritzed them with water with the colorless substance, so it dried onto the flowers and wrapper. Should you touch the roses and rub your fingers, you will feel the toxin.”
Well, since I’d already gotten poisoned somehow, I obeyed, and I rubbed my fingers together after rubbing one of the big blossoms. Sure enough, something a little sticky but otherwise invisible clung to my fingers. “And it’s absorbed through the skin?”
“Yes, and it has a minor aerial radius, so if it came too close to your face, you could breathe it in. It is a rather illegal substance… or will be soon enough. Your sickness will be what makes it illegal, should you opt to turn evil into good.”
“Sure. What’s a little suffering?”
“You are such a curious being.”
The Devil eyed the roses. “These were poisoned?”
“Yes, Lucifer. They’re poisoned. It’s not the end of the world. There’s an antidote. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Eventually. “It just gives me the justifiable part of the homicide verdict. Hey, how much does ruling over your hells earn me, anyway? I seem to be out of a job and have been poisoned.”
“You’re taking this in stride.”
I pointed at my brother. “I’m just a little poisoned. He’s a chipmunk. Apparently, I’m a prize, and he wants me badly enough to try to manipulate me into having sex with him through the use of lethal poisons.”
The Devil twitched, and he held out his hand. “May I please have my phone?”
“Your brother wants to talk to you.” I handed over the device, as even I had some shred of self-preservation left. When the Devil’s eyes burned brighter than any flame, screwing around with him probably wouldn’t work out in my favor. I sipped my iced coffee and watched him with interest.
Fury was a good look on the Devil, especially when he wore a nice suit. He turned and graced me with his back, and I tilted my head while admiring the scenery.
Nice. I’d have to make the Devil fetch things for me often when I was ruling over his hells.
“You’re saying I can’t destroy the roses,” the Devil stated, his tone colder than my coffee.
Poor Michael. “I’m sure your spot supplier will be fine. There’s an antidote, and you could always bargain with the archangel for a cure. I hear they’ll do medical miracles for a fee.”
The Devil twisted around and shot a glare at me. “You shouldn’t sound so chipper after being told you’ve been lethally poisoned.”
“I’m not dead yet.”
“Yet.”
“He already said there’s an antidote. Why are you whining so much? This is perfect. We know where the poison came from, and we’ve the word of an archangel. We know who sent the flowers, we know why he sent the flowers. He wants me to show up to manipulate me, and he’s willing to poison me to get his way. This totally removes any feelings of guilt I may have suffered for contemplating doing terrible things to him in your dungeon. I’m also going to make plans for the two who delivered those roses knowing they’d be poisoning me and getting an antidote. There will be a special place in your hells for them. Am I understood?”
The Devil raised a brow. “Are you seriously ordering me around?”
“Yes. They need a special place in your hells so I can come play with them whenever I want. It will be brutal. I might even accept your assistance in adding additional brutality to my planned brutalities.”
“That’s the hottest thing a woman has said to me in a long time.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “Ask a succubus to flirt with you. I’m sure she can come up with something hotter.”
“They don’t like coming with me into the dungeons for some reason, unless they’re asking for a punishment, and is that really a punishment?”
“It’s not a punishment if she likes it,” I confirmed. “Consenting punishment definitely isn’t punishment. The consent part is key.”
“For some reason, I like the begging.”
“Well, yes. You’re the Devil. It would be strange if you didn’t. Also, should you be conversing with me when you have your brother on the phone?”
“He’s talking to Gabriel, as he is offended you have been poisoned. Archangels get rather pissy at times, so I figure I’ll be a good brother for a change and wait while he works his temper out. I’m sure He will be brought into it, because He gets cranky when his archangels are pitching fits. Basically, He is cranky all of the time. I come from a very dysfunctional family.”
“A dysfunctional family that will ultimately end the world.”
“Yeah. We’re a little more dysfunctional than most. Truth be told, it’s not like any of us actually want the End of Days to happen. But humans are humans, and because they’re humans, it must. If we had a choice in the matter, we’d dodge it for all eternity. But all beginnings have ends. In good news, all ends have beginnings, so the End of Days is merely the end of an old beginning and the beginning of a new end. It’s complicated.”
“Hey. Can you ask what kind of poison the fucker got me with?”
“The kind that will kill you within two weeks if you aren’t given an antidote or other treatments.”
“I was hoping for some specifics.”
“Do you need to know more than it will kill you within two weeks if you aren’t given an antidote or other treatments?”
“Well, yes. Can you ask Michael if the envelope with his name and the rose petals in it has more of the poison available in a detectible fashion? I’m happy to give it to the police. It has his name on it. It’s his invitation. I didn’t touch anything on the inside. I used tongs. I should throw the tongs and crap out I used to open that envelope, shouldn’t I?”
“Are you fond of this house?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t let me solve this problem with the appropriate usage of fire, will you?”
“That is how you destroy evidence, Lucifer.”
“I don’t care about the evidence.”
“I do.”
“That’s unfair.”
“I don’t care if it’s unfair.” I pointed at my vase of toxic roses. “They’re mine, they were given to me, and I will resent if you destroy them. That’s my evidence, damn it! I need the evidence to bring ruin and destruction to them.”
The Devil sighed. “Michael, why must she always argue with me?”
I wondered if the archangel would tell the Devil the obvious, or if I would need to remind the Devil I held the true power in our ridiculous relationship.
I controlled the spots, and she who controlled the spots controlled the man wanting access to the spots.
My spots held great power, and as I meant to earn my stay in hell, I would use my every spot to my advantage.
I waited, allowing myself a smile and taking a sip of my iced coffee, which had become the first of my trophies claimed from the Devil.
“She’s smiling at me, and I find this somewhat concerning. You, an archangel, notified her she was lethally poisoned, and she’s smiling about it.”
“Oh, stop being a baby. It’s not lethal yet.” I eyed the roses. “However, that said, my brother is teeny tiny right now, and I’m concerned the dose would be lethal for him far faster than it’ll kill me, so if you could ask Michael to escort some lovely police officers over and verify the toxins, claim the envelope, which is likewise poisoned
, and otherwise start the wheels moving on that, I’ll probably be forced to owe him a favor. Pretty please.”
The Devil relayed my request with minimal adjustments, and it amused me he refused to say ‘pretty please’ to his brother. “I said pretty please.”
“I refuse to use those words. There are limits.”
I sipped my iced coffee. “Access to a fourth spot will be barred until you use those words in the appropriate order in a meaningful way.”
The Devil took his time thinking about it. “Michael, she’s making me say dirty words to gain access to a new spot.”
I laughed. “I’m such a cruel dictator.” I tilted my head to the side and pointed at a rather nice spot along my throat, one that made me purr whenever someone stroked it. “This is a particularly nice spot, and I may consider introducing you to it should you learn to use those words in the appropriate order.”
“I will help escort all of your enemies straight to hell for that spot. I will do so in a fashion so brutal mortals will quake in fear for a hundred years.”
“Pretty please are the words you need to say if you want this spot.”
“You’re really going to make me say dirty words to gain access to that spot?”
“And you can hire me, but you won’t be getting to meet any new spots until you use those terrible, awful, tragically dirty words.” I pointed at the spot on my wrist. “You will get this spot for all eternity should you fail to use those dirty words.”
“Ruthless,” the Devil complained. “Michael wants to talk to you again.”
I took the phone and placed it to my ear. “How can I help you, Michael?”
“He has not used the equivalent of please in a thousand years. It is not a part of his current vocabulary.”
“Excellent. He can demonstrate how badly he wants access to a new spot, then. What are the symptoms of this poison, if I may ask?”
“It is primarily neurological, so you will experience tremors in your hands, a weakness in your grip, potentially blurred vision, and a difficulty remembering things. You will forget people and names fairly early, although you will be aware of having a relationship with them. This will, frankly spoken, create some issues with my brother, as he will find your adjusted behavior intolerable. It will be like you are walking through a thick, dense fog. You will experience severe head pain, and by the time the meeting happens, you will be quite pained. Lorenzo Gallo meticulously planned the onset to make certain you fall into his hands when you are most pained and pliable, but before you reach the point of no return.”
“Well, that’s rude of him.”
“You are aware of his nature. This is nothing compared to the things he has done to others.”
“And should I pass on his generous offer for the antidote?”
“In the later stages, you will remember nothing of who you are. You will eventually fall into a comatose state. Death comes shortly after. The comatose state is unpleasant for those witnessing it, although you won’t really feel the seizures and other symptoms as your brain goes into the final stages of death. It is a nasty toxin. He intends on giving you a compound that will slow the progress. Every now and then, he would give you something that would mostly reverse it, essentially enslaving you. He does not care for your happiness. He only cares for his end goals, and you are exotic. You could live for a very long time like that.”
“Is this something you can help me with?”
“It is within my power to purge the poison from your body. My brother forgets, but it is within his powers to purge the poison from your body as well. He has not lost his heavenly flames. This is but one of his many flaws. He can heal many things should he choose. To be fair to my brother, he has not healed anyone in many years, for he spends little time on the mortal coil. His work in his many hells keeps him occupied, and until now, he has had no reason to handle mortal affairs directly. He visits but always with a purpose. That is what makes my brother who he is. He changes.”
“And you do not,” I guessed.
“You are mostly correct. I do not change often. We can learn, and we change when we learn, but we rarely experience new things. My brother is far more curious than the rest of us, although we do find humans to be sufficiently entertaining from time to time.”
“You change within allowed parameters?”
“Precisely.”
“When will the symptoms start?”
“By tomorrow morning, you will no longer recognize anyone without intervention, although you will have most of your memories intact. Events you will remember, but the names of people, places, and things will be significantly hampered.”
“That does not sound like a good time for me.”
“I expect you will be approached again tomorrow, likely with another poisoned gift to help speed the poison’s progression, especially when you did not opt to smell the roses you were given. They will be monitoring you.”
“This doesn’t bode well for me securing revenge, Michael. I cannot plan revenge when my brains are dribbling out of my ears.”
“You speak the truth, but it would be wise to allow the toxin to do the work for some time.”
“Are you looking into the future?”
“Perhaps a little.”
Okay. That was cool. “Can your brother do that?”
“He can, and he does at his whim. He does not wish to look into this future for his own reasons. He enjoys surprises. I am more methodical on this matter than him. He is a creature of passion, and the methodical approach does not appeal to him at this point in time. That may change.”
I pulled the phone from my ear. “Hey, Lucifer?”
“What is it?”
“You can count spots on my arm tomorrow, one spot for every time I can’t remember your name, but you can only ask me once every twenty minutes as a part of monitoring this poison’s progression. However, you must trust Michael to tell you when it’s the appropriate time to pull the plug on this little experience.”
Michael laughed, and I returned the phone to my ear in time to hear him say, “Should you make that bargain, he will do nothing but count spots all day tomorrow, and you have yourself to blame for this. Is it wise for me to control your fate?”
“I expect you’ll take me right to the point of no return should we proceed.”
“Yes. There is a reason for this.”
“And will this win me more than it will lose me?”
Michael took his time considering my question. “Much of the answer depends on you.”
“Illuminate me, Michael.”
“You will lose things. You will win things. I cannot judge the value of what you will win and lose. Some things I hesitate to look for in the future, for those futures are often uncertain and unclear, and I do not wish to lead you astray.”
“Hey, Lucifer. Do you think I’ll win more than I lose scheming with your brother?”
“Win,” he replied without hesitation.
“Justify that statement, please.”
“If my brother waits until a more dire point, I will be very eager to rid this Earth of these people, and you will get to enjoy tormenting them in a very special place in my hells, for I will be highly motivated to give them their fair share of attention.”
“Okay. Lucifer is all right with this. I can handle some suffering for a good cause, and if it does good down the road, then it’s worth it to me.”
“Your capacity for good is only equal to your capacity for…” The archangel sighed.
“Evil?” I suggested.
“Viciousness might be a better word. You do not precisely do evil. You work for a greater cause.”
“I can get vengeance on behalf of those who cannot get it for themselves.”
“Yes, and while your method is rather vindictive, you do so with good intentions, so I cannot precisely call it evil. You are the swiftest hand of justice available, but you are as brutal as you will be swift. You have chosen your weapon well.”
“Well, unleash
ing the powers of hell on Earth to get rid of a few bastards is a bit overkill on the weaponry front.”
“The powers of the heavens, too. You are in league with both the heavens and the hells for this.”
“Does that mean I can storm the heavens, too?”
“Would you like to?”
I laughed at the curiosity in Michael’s voice. “Perhaps. Do you think I could get away with it?”
“I am sure He might grant you an audience at some point.”
Huh. “For someone like me?”
“You stormed the gates of hell for the sake of another. He finds things like that admirable. Not many can say they have spoken with Him. It might be worth your while.”
“You know what? I’d like that. I think I have a question for him.” I glanced at the Devil, who engaged in a one-sided glaring match with my poisoned roses. “I’m a curious mortal.”
“That you are. There is one thing you will need to know.”
“Tell me, please.”
“You may permanently lose some memories because of this venture, but they will be painful ones you are better off without. Do you consent to that?”
I thought about it. “Do those memories define me?”
“No, but they would redefine you in ways you would not appreciate,” the archangel replied. “Without them, you can define yourself.”
There were worse things I could do than place a little trust in an archangel. “Then I do, although if I need to know one day in some future, I am trusting you to make things right in its proper time and place.”
“I shall,” he promised.
A shiver passed through me, as though some gentle hand touched somewhere deep in my chest. The feeling faded, but unnerved, I asked, “What’s next?”
“Amuse my brother with one of your spots while I handle the matter of bringing the police and someone in the appropriate safety gear so they are not also sickened. I will see you soon.” Michael hung up.
I handed the phone to the Devil. “Michael has suggested I amuse you with one of my spots.” I pointed to the one on the back of my neck. “I recommend this one.”