Those Who Fight Monsters: Tales of Occult Detectives

Hell Bound: A Hell on Earth Story by Jackie Kessler

“Stupid fucking name.” The incubus Daunuan shook his head. “Why do so many human magicians pick stupid fucking names?”

“Aw, sweetie,” I said. “Don’t be like that. They’re just being creative. They think it makes them sound exotic.”

“It makes them sound like assholes.”

“Not everyone can have a name like yours, Don Juan,” I said with a wink, emphasizing the human pronunciation. The demonic version was more sensual, called for more use of the tongue and lips. We creatures of Lust were nothing if not sensual. And all about the tongue and lips. “Besides,” I said, “ ‘Noel Le Noir’ isn’t the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

“No, but it is hopelessly cheesy.”

“I like my men hopelessly cheesy.”

“You like your men, period.” Daun smiled. “And your women.”

“I’m an equal-opportunity succubus,” I agreed happily. Whatever the gender, whatever the form, I loved humans. To death. Speaking of which…

From our secluded table in the corner, I gazed at my new client, who was sipping a drink all by his lonesome at the bar. To look at him, you’d never guess that Noel Le Noir — born Leon Siegal — was a Satanist (which put him on my side) and a master magician (which did not). At first glance, he looked bookish and plump, with a weak chin and acne scars. And talk about overkill on the black: silk shirt, slacks, shoes, socks, dyed hair. A gaudy silver necklace with a pentacle dangling point-side down hung around his fleshy neck. He looked like he’d tried going Goth when he’d hit 35 and didn’t quite make it.

Based on his reputation Below, I’d expected to feel his magical power teasing his flesh like foreplay. One didn’t become a master of the dark arts without radiating a little menace, or at least seeming like the sort who’d go out of his way to kick puppies and drown kittens. This guy? He radiated as much power as a limp dick. Maybe someone was fooling around Downstairs and mislabeled Noel’s file as that of an actual mage, instead of a wannabe who chanted his “Hail Satan’s” and pretended his rod of power was something other than what lay between his legs.

He didn’t need magic, however, to score a one-way ticket to Hell, even without the Satanism. Noel Le Noir was personally responsible for nineteen human sacrifices and too many animal killings to count, to say nothing of all the pain and suffering he’d caused others over the past dozen years or so. He was a serial killer with the face of a nebbish.

Yum.

“I still don’t understand why you scored this assignment,” Daun said, casting a dark look at Noel.

“What’s to understand? Queen Lillith gave it to me personally.” And never mind how she’d gloated as she’d handed me the paperwork. “Besides, I haven’t eaten a magician in centuries. And the last one was a charlatan.”

“This guy’s supposed to be the real deal, babes.”

“Even if he is” —which I seriously doubted— “I can take him. The queen wouldn’t have given me the assignment if I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken your queen for someone who’s on Team Jezebel.” Daun leaned in close. “She’s making it known far and wide that you intend to corral an evil magician’s soul down to the Pit, and that it wasn’t sanctioned by Lust.”

Gosh, Lillith had lied. What a shock.

Daun’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Demons of Greed are already taking bets on whether you get completely destroyed or just bound to the mage as his slave.”

“What’re my odds on actually nabbing his soul for Hell?”

“Against? I can’t count that high.” He grinned, his fangs flashing momentarily through his human disguise. “Your queen has set you up, Jez. If you do your job, it’s a win for Lust, and she gets the credit. If you fail, it’s because you overstepped, and she’s not responsible.”

I pouted. Lillith, the first mortal demon and my eternal tormenter (read: my boss) had it in for me, for reasons that I still didn’t know. She was why I was stuck as a fifth level succubus, even though I’d been around for almost four thousand years. She absolutely despised me. Maybe one day I’d know the reason why. Or not. “I know what I’m doing, Daun.”

“So do I. You’re getting in over your head.”

“You just prefer it when I’m giving head.”

“Not the point.” He looked at me intently, studying my features. Which was a waste of time, since, like him, I was in a human guise at the moment. “There’s a reason even the Lower Downs don’t like getting assigned to magicians. If this guy isn’t a phony, he very well could overpower you and then boom: instant bondage. And not in the fun-filled, handcuffs way. You’d be his servant until Judgment Day.”

“He’s not going to live that long.”

“Or you could just be vaporized.”

“Why, sweetie,” I said, cooing. “It’s almost like you actually care about me.”

He chuckled, low and lush. “You’re the best lay in all of Hell. I’d hate to see your ass incinerated by mortal magic.”

Awww. For a demon, that was practically a love sonnet. “Strip away the human magic, and all you have is another flesh puppet. He’s got his temptations, just like any other mortal.” I patted Daun’s thigh. “No worries. When I’m done with Noel Le Noir, he’ll be ten minutes dead before he realizes he lost his soul.”

“Big talk for a little succubus.”

“It’s my chance to finally prove to my queen that I deserve to be promoted. Besides, I’m sure Noel’s a fraud. I’m not sensing anything from him.” Real magicians reeked of magic, like garlic in an Italian restaurant. “What about you?”

Daun glanced in Noel’s direction, sniffed loudly, then rubbed his nose. “Only thing I smell on him is his aftershave.”

“See that? Nothing to worry about.”

“He could have a shieldstone. That would mask his power.”

“You’ve been screwing the role-playing folks again, sweetie. There’s no such thing as a Shield Against Evil.”

“Some would say there’s no such thing as demons.”

“The difference is they’d be wrong. Bye-bye, Daun. I’ve got work to do.”

“Fine, go get lusty with the master magician. If he destroys you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He kissed me, very thoroughly, then disappeared in a puff of evil intent.

I fluffed my hair (currently jet black), adjusted my boobs (double-D), and retouched my lipstick (blowjob red). Then I stood up, grinning like a cat after a serving of canary.

All right, Noel Le Noir. Time to say hello to the best — and last — lay of your life.

I shimmied over to him with practiced ease, the clacking of my four-inch heels announcing my presence well before I reached his side. The bartender, who was sliding another drink in front of Noel, paused to give me an appreciative glance, his gaze stopping at my boobs. I gave them an added jiggle by way of saying hello. And then I slid onto the barstool next to my new client.

“What would you like?” the bartender asked me.

“Sex on the beach.” Yes, I like the drink, too.

He grinned and got right on it. I watched him work, enjoying the way he wore his black tee-shirt, feeling Noel’s gaze on me. Noel Le Noir was into power games; being a multiple murderer proved that. He’d make the first move. And if he didn’t, a lick of my infernal power would turn up the heat. I preferred not to resort to my Hellish magic to hook a client — that gets old after the first thousand years — but I had no qualms about whammying a hesitant one with lust, if that’s what it took to get the job done. I’m a demon, after all. We cheat.

As the bartender slid the drink in front of me, Noel dropped a twenty on the bar and cleared his throat. “I’ve got this one, Dave. Keep the change.”

Dave the bartender flashed a perfunctory smile and took Noel’s cash, then also took the hint and sidled away.

Me, I beamed at Noel. “That’s sweet,” I said. “Thanks for the drink.”

“You’re welcome.” Noel actually talked to me and not to my chest. Hmm. To fix that, I took a deep breath. Yep, there we go — now he was staring at my twin assets. Much better. He introduced himself to my breasts: “I’m Noel.”

“Jesse,” I said, offering him both my nickname and my hand. He pressed my palm to his lips — old fashioned and wonderfully, inappropriately intimate. The kiss was warm, and lingering, and hinted at many things. As did his tongue.

Ooh. Whether or not Noel had any real magical power, he sure knew how to use his mouth. Bonus!

He released my hand, and I sipped my drink and smiled inanely as I let him talk for a bit, telling me about himself (yawn) and that I was beautiful (well, duh) and that he wasn’t seeing anyone now because his last girlfriend didn’t work out (that often happens when you use the girlfriend as a human sacrifice, but whatever).

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” I chirped. “My last boyfriend wanted a relationship, but all I wanted was hot and sweaty sex.”

Noel spluttered his drink.

“Love your necklace,” I said, making with the Bambi eyes. What serial killer didn’t love a big-busted gal with huge Bambi eyes?

“This?” He dangled the pentacle between his fingers, and I made sure to lean forward in appreciation. My boobs nearly popped out of my dress as I admired the silver necklace. Being near the jewelry actually made me feel itchy, but I figured that was my impatience; I really wanted Noel to get on with seducing me. Talking to my nipples again, he said, “It’s a pentagram. I do magic,” he added in a low voice, ending with a smile that was probably supposed to make him seem mysterious.

Cue my wide-eyed curiosity: “So you saw girls in half?”

“Not stage magic. Real magic.” His smile pulled into a leer. “Sex magic.”

I giggled. Couldn’t help it. He was so earnest. It was adorable. “Is sex magic hotter than regular sex?”

“Oh yeah.” He paused. “Want me to show you?”

“Like you would not believe,” I said with a smile. “Your place?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He helped me down from the barstool, grinning like a lovestruck idiot. As I clasped his hand tightly, I sent out a pulse of power, exploring him, testing for magical ability. Nothing. The guy was a blank page.

Some tough assignment. Hah. At this rate, I’d have his soul within the hour.

As we waited for a cab, he babbled about his prowess as a magician. I made all the appropriate oohs and ahhs. Oh yes, he’d call my name as he came inside me, and I’d hold him tight as he died. And then, once his soul was bound to me, I’d take him down to Hell.

No need for Lillith to know that Noel was a fraud. Hell had marked him as a high-level dark magician; that was all that mattered. I’d complete my assignment easily, and Lust would get major kudos for a powerful catch. In doing so, I’d finally prove my mettle to my queen and get the promotion I deserved. Everyone would be happy.

Well, except for Noel. But hey, you can’t win them all.

The apartment wasn’t bad. I’d expected Ikea-chic and some secondhand accoutrements, but instead I found tasteful furniture (modern) and framed paintings (abstract). I recognized one of the artists as someone who’d recently been claimed by Hell — the man had sold his soul for the opportunity to be immortalized by his artwork — and I took a moment to admire the bold strokes of black in the otherwise colorful painting.

“That’s an original,” Noel said, after naming the artist.

It looked like road kill with tire streaks. I liked it.

Noel took me by the arm and led me to his bedroom, a thing of black walls and overflowing bookshelves. Oh yes: this was where the power happened. Not magic, no — still coming up blank on that end — but the sex … I smelled the lingering energy, felt the ripples in the stagnant air, tasted the aftermath of death. It was enough to make me tipsy. Sweet Sin, this room had seen many active nights. And days. And afternoons. To say nothing of the weekends. Clearly, Noel was a man who got his jollies right here — sex before, during and after the ritual sacrifices. His sheets must be easily washable.

I couldn’t wait for us to get started. I bet his soul would taste like licorice and rum — steeped in evil, dripping with lust. Yum!

As Noel started lighting some candles (black, naturally) around the room to “set the mood,” I stepped over to the bed: a four-poster with a metal frame, its sheets satin and red as a beating heart. The comforter was a lush thing of sensual black — not the dead no-color of rot but the enticing inky darkness of nightmares.

I almost shivered with anticipation. Setting the mood, indeed.

He walked up behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders, then stroking down my arms. “Ready?”

“Sweetie,” I purred, turning around to face him, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Noel kissed me hard, mashing his lips against mine and forcing his tongue into my mouth. He was aggressive. Possessive. Just like I knew he’d be. I went along with it, encouraged him with little moans that could have meant pleasure or surprise or fear — whatever he needed, I’d give it to him. He was my client, and I’d make sure he was satisfied. So instead of me seducing him, I simply reacted as he kissed me down my jaw and my throat, bruising me with passion. His tongue teased me, darting, painting me with small licks; his teeth grazed me, the threat of pain in the midst of building pleasure.

He hit a sweet spot, and I bit my lip to keep myself from tearing his pants off and throwing him onto the bed. Let him be in control, I told myself. Let him have his power. Let the moment stretch. It would be over all too soon. Sex with humans always was. His hands moved down my back until they cupped my ass.

“No panties,” I breathed. His fingers quickly discovered I was telling the truth. Then I said, “No bra.”

As if that had given him permission, with one hand he tugged down the front of my dress, then stared in obvious glee at my very large, very bare breasts. (Infernal magic: way better than an underwire bra.) My nipples were already erect, thanks to Noel’s rough kisses and blunt fingers, but now the sheer hunger in his gaze as he stared at my tits made me slick with need. He was murder and sex and brute humanity in one black-clad package.

Oh, Gehenna, he was fabulous.

And then his mouth latched onto my nipple, and my reaction was very loud and very positive. For the next who knew how long, he suckled me and stripped me down until I was shining from his licks and wearing only my stilettos and a huge smile.

One of his hands was doing marvelous things between my legs when he asked me, “Can I tie you up?”

“So polite,” I murmured.

“The magic is stronger when it’s consensual.” He emphasized the importance of consent with a waggle of his fingers.

“Of course you can tie me up.” I adored bondage — Lash Me, Thrash Me is a particular favorite among the succubi. Besides, no mortal ties could truly keep me pinned; a teensy burst of power would sear through even the strongest of bonds. Or I could always just bamf myself down to Hell if I really needed to make a quick exit. But I was still sure the only thing I had to worry about from the wannabe magician was premature ejaculation.

Noel steered me to the bed and eased me down, his fingers dancing all the while. “Spread yourself wide for me,” he panted.

I obliged.

Leaning over me, he opened the drawer of his nightstand and took out four pairs of handcuffs. Soon I was bound to the bedposts, still in my heels.

Noel sat back and smiled at me. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He got off the bed and rummaged through the drawer again.

“What are you looking for, sweetie? A blindfold?”

“Nope. Just this.” He pulled out a pouch and dangled it in front of me before he loosened the drawstrings. “Salt.” He sprinkled the white crystals on the ground in a white trail, going around the bed. As Noel walked out of my line of vision, I realized the bed hadn’t been flush against the wall. “Don’t mind me,” he said from behind me. “Just have to finish the circle.”

Bemused, I chuckled softly. The handful of magicians I’d dealt with over my thousands of years had drawn circles too. Usually in blood. Noel was certainly acting the part. Shame he had no ability whatsoever.

“There we go,” Noel said. He was just out of eyesight, but I heard him drop the pouch, then open and close another drawer. He said, “This next part’s going to sting a little.”

That’s when he plunged a dagger into my stomach.

Shock hit me more than the pain. Steel can’t kill me, even though getting stabbed with a foot-long curved blade hurts worse than an angel’s blessing. But the notion that this mortal man had actually stabbed me stunned me into silence. How dare he? Sure, he was a serial killer who performed human sacrifices as a matter of course, so that should have been a tip-off he had a pair of balls on him … but still. The nerve!

The thought took me all of a second — long enough for Noel to pull the blade out of me and step back. And that’s when I felt the magic snap like electricity. A hungry buzz filled the air, the sound of flies over a corpse.

Right, all done with playing along.

I reached within me for my infernal power, ready to overwhelm Noel Le Noir with lust and then ride him until his bones broke and I sucked out his soul.

Except nothing happened.

Ignoring the agony in my belly and the sweat on my brow, I tried again. And again, nothing happened.

What the fuck…?

“Sorry about stabbing you before we got to the good part,” Noel said, sounding quite cheerful. “But if it’s any consolation, I promise to fuck you silly after you’re dead.”

Terrific.

“I said I’d show you magic, right? Well, the circle you’re in just sealed, thanks to me spilling your blood. It’s a magic circle, honey. The circle negates evil magic. So nothing evil in it can get out.”

My mouth dropped open. Screw me on Salvation Day, Noel wasn’t a fraud after all. Thanks to his fucking spell, I had no power while I was trapped in the circle. Why couldn’t I sense his magical ability?

And how did he know I was a demon?

“You’re perfect,” said Noel. “Those legs … those tits. Ah, man, those tits. You’re just the right sacrifice for the demon I mean to summon.”

Back the truck up. Summon a demon?

“Sweetie,” I said — okay, croaked, but give me a break, I’d been stabbed in the stomach and was bleeding and in a lot of pain — “what’re you talking about?”

“I traffic with demons,” he said proudly. “I get power in exchange for souls. Magic. Stock tips. Fashion advice. All I have to do is kill someone and leave the offering in the circle, and then my demon sponsor gives me goodies after I summon him. So I had to sacrifice you, Jesse. I hear Hell’s lovely this time of year. I bet you’ll love it there.”

Actually, I did. But that was beside the point.

“Listen, Noel, you’re obviously not in your right mind.” Fuuuuuuuuck, it hurt to talk. And because I was in a magic-free circle, I couldn’t even heal myself. Stupid magic spell. “Demons are the big, bad evil. Whatever you summon is going to steal your soul.” Unless I could steal it first.

“I’ve been doing this for years, Jesse. I’m not worried. Especially because I’m not the one in the circle.” He grinned, a predator’s smile I normally would have admired. “Seems like your soul’s the one in jeopardy.”

It would be, if I had a soul. “You’re making a mistake,” I gritted. “And the demon you summon will destroy you.”

“Uh-huh. I’d say that’s what they all say, except by now they’re usually dead or too busy dying to bother with talking.” He sighed. “This much spirit in you, you must be phenomenal in the sack.”

“Oh, I am. Why don’t you come here and find out yourself?”

“Sorry, honey. Can’t break the circle. Now you hush up and go ahead and die while I summon the demon, okay?”

I clenched my teeth against the pain throbbing from my stomach. “Demons don’t care for being called like dogs. Tends to make them grumpy. Even if you get one to serve you now, it’ll come after you when you’re not looking.”

“Talk, talk, talk.” Noel grabbed something off the nightstand — his pentagram necklace. “This is a Shield against Evil, honey. No demon can harm me while I wear it.”

No freaking way. Really? That stupid thing was real? “You probably want to put that on, so that the demon you summon won’t, you know, slaughter you.” No way was I letting another one of the nefarious kill him. That would be my job when I got out of here.

“Unfortunately, the shieldstone blocks my magic. So, no wearing it for me right now.”

Satan spare me. Daun had been right.

“It’s sweet of you to be concerned, though.” Noel smiled down at me. “Don’t worry. Between the circle, which will hold the demon, and my shieldstone for when I’m done, I’m completely safe. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a creature of the Pit to summon.”

I didn’t know which was worse: me being captured by a mortal with intentions of magical grandeur, or Daunuan being right.

Even before the chanting stopped, the shadows had pulled together until there was a black mass hovering over me. It stretched and filled out, taking on the shape of an obscenely well-muscled man. Skin the hue of burnished copper. Hairless. Wonderfully naked, but his most important muscle was covered by a leather apron.

Only one demon made it a point to wear a workman’s apron of tanned human skin: Baruel, so-called Master of All Arts. He was a creature of Pride, one of Lust’s natural enemies. Baruel was also an asshole, but that had nothing to do with him being one of the Arrogant. He was one of Hell’s elite, and as befitted any infernal Lower Down, he had an ego that dwarfed Mount Everest.

Baruel would have no qualms about destroying me; it was a Pride thing.

Snarling, I struggled against the handcuffs, to no avail. Think, Jesse. There’s got to be a way out of this that didn’t end with my severed head on a silver platter.

Baruel loomed over me, his red eyes glowing with malefic presence. He took in my naked, bleeding mortal form, then squinted and looked past the temporary shell. He sneered, baring his fangs. “Magician!” he boomed. “You dare to disgrace me with this paltry offering?”

“Hey now,” Noel said, affronted. “She’s sexy and dying. What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s even lower than mortals! Her kind are nothing more than clap-carrying, pox-ridden dogs!”

I could almost hear Noel’s brain try to process the demon’s words. He said slowly, “You mean she’s … a prostitute?”

“No, you ass,” I sighed. “He means I’m a succubus.”

The confused look on Noel’s face would have been funny if not for (A) me being trapped in his magic circle, (B) me still bleeding and in pain, and (C) a demon of Arrogance standing over me with murder in his eyes.

“I’ll destroy you for this insult, Noel Le Noir,” Baruel promised, his voice rumbling like doom. “I’ll make a new apron out of your hide.”

Noel raised his weak chin and declared: “You can do nothing to me, demon. You’re bound by the circle. You can’t break it.”

Easy for him to say. He was safely outside of the circle. Anyone can taunt a tiger when it’s on the other side of the bars.

Baruel smiled slowly, stretching his mouth impossibly wide. Then he leaned over until he was at the edge of our prison, and he blew out a breath. The candlelight flickered … and part of the salt outline of the circle vanished. The hum of magic sputtered and died.

Yes! Score one for evil! I grinned as I felt my power surge through me. Now at least I had a fighting chance.

Poor Noel looked like he’d just crapped in his boxers. “You can’t,” he stammered. “The circle…!”

Baruel cracked his huge knuckles. “I’m the Master of All Arts. I taught you more about magic in a dozen years than other humans can learn in a dozen lifetimes. Do you really think I don’t know how to break a human magician’s circle?”

Noel paled. “But you never did before…”

“The sacrifices were tasty. Until now.” Baruel grinned hugely. “I’m not in the mood for succubus. I think I’ll dine on magician.”

“Told you so,” I said to Noel. But he was too busy calling up some magic spell or another to pay any attention to me.

Baruel, for his part, launched himself off the bed and out of the desecrated circle, his fingernails already lengthened into claws. Noel barely got a shield of light up in time to deflect the blow. Screaming like a nun at an orgy, he let loose a magical blast that would have singed off Baruel’s hair, if he had any. The demon bellowed and slammed his fists down. Noel threw himself to the left, avoiding getting pounded into pudding. Baruel’s hands momentarily stuck in the ruins of the bedroom floor. Still screaming, Noel made a “Here, boy” motion, and a black-bladed sword appeared in his outstretched hand. He lunged at Baruel, slicing at the demon’s neck.

Don’t mind me, boys. Keep yourselves entertained as I poof away my bonds like so…

Free, I sat up and rubbed my wounded belly. With a wisp of my power, the bleeding stopped, the cut scabbed over and faded, and I was back up to full strength.

The demon and the human were tearing into each other, no holds barred. I frowned, debating whether I should help Baruel. Even though he was an Arrogant bastard, and one of Hell’s elite to boot, he was still one of my own kind. Noel, furthermore, tried to sacrifice me. I expect that sort of thing from demons, not humans.

And it would irk Baruel for the next two millennia if I helped him. Creatures of Pride didn’t do well with charity.

I aimed at the back of Noel’s head, ready to throw my magic at him, but Baruel saw me. He lobbed a bolt of power at me, and I yelped as I scampered out of the way.

“I’m coming for you next, little whore!” he roared. “I’ll destroy you for your part in this!”

Well, fuck that noise. I plopped down on the bed and let them fight it out.

A minute passed as Noel and Baruel danced — the one a high-level magician of the dark arts, the other his demonic teacher. The two struck and parried and struck and scored and struck and dodged. Blood and ichor flew. Curses rang out. I buffed my nails.

Before another minute passed, they both scored fatal blows. It took them both two more minutes to figure out they were dying. (Men, whether human or demon, could be a bit slow on the uptake.) Noel crashed to the ground, limbs quivering. Baruel sank to his knees. Dark stains pooled beneath them both.

I stretched and stood up.

By the time I picked up the black blade that had slipped from Noel’s fingers, the carpet was saturated with blood and other body fluids. I stepped carefully so that I wouldn’t slip. Balancing in four-inch heels could be such a bitch. Baruel, I noted, was halfway to decapitated.

No one likes a half-assed job. I separated the demon’s head from his neck.

Then I turned to Noel. The master magician lay dying, too far gone to mutter any anti-death spells. His body was nothing more than strips of bloody flesh.

Yum.

I sliced away the scraps of clothing that covered him from torso to thigh. With a pulse of my power, the most important part of him stood at attention. And then I straddled him there on the ground. I even took his hands and put them to my naked breasts. I thought he’d like that; clearly, he’d been a boob man.

Smiling, I gave Noel Le Noir the last ride of his life. With his final breath, he called my name … and his soul was mine.

Turns out, practitioners of the dark arts taste like chicken.

You’d think a place called Pandemonium would be chaotic. But no, the administrative level of Hell was frighteningly orderly. There was paperwork for everything … and with every additional form, you had to get back on line and wait your turn to file the new paper. And the line tended to be three years long.

I was consoling myself by humming Michael Jackson tunes when Daun popped in, grinning from ear to ear.

“Figures,” he said, shaking his head. “The only time a fifth-level succubus has ever taken out a Master of the Dark Arts, and it gets cancelled out as a Wrongful Termination of one of the elite. Babes, I don’t know whether to be impressed or bust a gut laughing.”

I sniffed. “My reputation precedes me.”

“Jezzie, it’s all over the Pit. Demons and damned alike are taking bets on whether you get everything squared away before Salvation Day.”

Terrific.

It was grossly unfair. Even though Noel had delivered the fatal blow to Baruel, my cut had been the final one — so in Hell’s book, the kill was mine. And that meant I was stuck with miles of paperwork. And if that weren’t bad enough, Lillith was furious with me. Apparently, offing one of the elite demons of Hell is something that she, as my queen, was answerable for. Oopsie. She’d already promised me a decade’s worth of torment.

And it was all because I’d done my job and hadn’t died in the process, even with her setting me up.

Not like I could complain about it. I worked for Hell. Shockingly, management tended not to be overly sympathetic.

“And,” Daun said, “I was right about the Shield Against Evil, wasn’t I?”

Fuck me with a halo.

“Don’t fret, babes. I won’t remind you that I was right. Well, not much. I’ll probably stop after a century or so.”

I sighed. “Great.”

“Did you at least keep the thing?”

“Couldn’t,” I said. “It went kablooey when Noel died.”

“Charmed items tend to do that when the charmer expires.”

“My afterlife sucks,” I said with a sigh. “I wish I could just give it all up, run away and start over.”

Chuckling, Daun stroked my cheek. “Even if you could run away, you wouldn’t. There are plenty of things worth staying in Hell for.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Like the promise of sex so steamy, the Lake of Fire would be a cool dip in comparison.”

Ooh.

“Why don’t you get off line,” Daun murmured, “and come with me. I promise I’ll make you forget about your troubles for a few days.”

“Are you tempting me, sweetie?”

“Of course.”

Bless me, Daun always knows just what to say. And do.

Grinning, I took Daun’s hand and let him pull me out of line.

As for what happened next … well, let’s just say that I was a very sated succubus. Once again, Daunuan was right: I forgot all about my troubles during the five days we were together. It almost made going to the back of the line worth it. Almost.

Ah, who am I kidding? Of course it was worth it. Sinfully, delightfully worth it.

I’d just never admit that to Daunuan. He’d never let me live it down.