Working for the Devil

It was slow suffocation, breathing in whatever gas these demons used for air.

Lucifer took a single step toward me. "My apologies, Dante. Come, sit down. Japhrimel, give her sword back. We should be polite, shouldn't we, since we are asking her for her help."

"What's in the Egg?" I asked, not moving. "Why is it so important?"

Lucifer smiled. That smile made me back up until my shoulders hit a bookcase. "What's in the Egg?" he said. "None of your concern, human."

"Oh, boy." I gulped down air. "This is so wrong."

"Help me, Dante, and you will be one of the chosen few to claim my friendship." His voice was soft and persuasive, fingering at my skull, looking for entrance. I bit savagely at the inside of my cheek, the slice of pain clearing my head slightly. "I swear to you on the waters of Lethe, if you retrieve the Egg and kill the thief, I will consider you a friend for eternity."

I tasted blood. "What's the demon's name?" I asked. "The one that stole it."

"His name is Vardimal," Lucifer said. "You know him as Santino."

I considered throwing my left knife. It wouldn't kill him, but the blessed steel might slow him down long enough for me to juke for the door or the window. "Santino?" I whispered. "You slimy son of a—"

"Watch how you speak to the Prince," Jaf interrupted. Lucifer raised one golden hand.

"Let her speak as she wishes, Japhrimel," he said. For the first time, he sounded… what? Actually weary. "Value the human who speaks truth, for they are few and far between."

"You could say the same for demons," I said numbly. "Santino…" It was a longing whisper.

— blood sliding out between my fingers, a chilling crystal laugh, Doreen's scream, life bubbling out through the gash in her throat, screaming, screaming—

I resheathed my knives.

Lucifer examined me for a few more moments, then turned and paced back to the fireplace. "I am aware that you have your own score to settle with Vardimal," he continued. "You help me, I help you. You see?"

"Santino was a demon?" I whispered. "How—" I had to clear my throat. "How the hell am I supposed to kill him?"

"Japhrimel will help you. He also has a… personal stake in this."

Jaf gingerly picked up my sword, slid it into the sheath. I watched this, sweat trickling down my forehead. A drop fell into my eyes, stinging. I blinked it away. "Why doesn't he just kill Santino?" I asked. My voice trembled.

"A very long time ago, during the dawning of the world, I granted this demon a gift in return for a service," Lucifer said. "He asked for an immunity. Neither man nor demon can kill him."

I thought this over. "So you think I can, since I'm neither."

"It is," Lucifer pointed out, "worth a try. Japhrimel will protect you long enough for you to carry out your mission."

Awww, jeez, isn't that sweet of him. I was about to say that, had a rare second thought, and shut my mouth. After a moment I nodded. "Fine." I didn't sound happy. "I'll do it. It's not like I have much of a choice." And I'll get free from this Jaf guy as soon as I've got the scent. How hard can that be?

"The rewards will be great," Lucifer reminded me.

"Screw your rewards, I'll be happy just to get out alive," I muttered. Santino was a demon? No wonder I couldn't find him. "Can I go back to Earth now? Or is this Vardimal hanging out in the Infernals?" The thought of hunting for a murderous demon through the lands of the not-quite-real-but-real-enough made suicide seem like a pretty good option.

"He is among your kind," Lucifer told me. "Your world is a playground for us, and he plays cruel games."

"Gee, imagine that." I swallowed, a dry dusty click. "A demon who likes hurting people."

"Let me tell you something, Dante Valentine," Lucifer replied, staring into the flames. His back was rigid. "I saw your kind crawling up from mud yesterday, and pitied you. I gave you fire. I gave you civilization, and technology. I gave you the means to build a platform above the mud. I gave you the secrets of love. My demons have lived among you for thousands of years, teaching you, molding your nervous systems so you were no longer mere animals. And you spit on me, and call me evil."

My mouth couldn't get any drier. We called them demons, or dji

My vote went for Something Else. But then again, I'd always been the suspicious type. "Lucifer was the very first humanist," I said. "I'm well aware of that, Your Highness."

"Think of that before you open your mouth again," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Now get out, and do what you're told. I give you Japhrimel as a familiar, Dante Valentine. Go away."

"My lord—" Jaf began, and I rubbed my sweating hands on my damp jeans. I would need a salt tablet and a few liters of water—the heat was physical, pressing against my skin; sweat drenched my clothes.

"Get out," Lucifer said. "Don't make me repeat myself."

I wasn't about to argue. I looked at Jaf.

The demon stared at Lucifer for a moment, his jaw working, green eyes burning.

Green eyes. They both have green eyes. Are they related? Jeez, who knows? I swallowed again. The tension buzzed against the air, rasped against my skin.

Lucifer made an elegant motion with one golden hand. It was a rune, but not one I recognized.

Fire bit into my left shoulder. I screamed, sure that he'd decided to kill me after all, me and my big mouth—but Jaf stalked across the room, holding my scabbarded sword, and grabbed my elbow again. "This way," he said, over my breathless howl—it felt like a branding iron was pressed into my flesh, the burning—and he hauled me back toward the door we'd come in through. I struggled—no not that again it HURTS it HURTS it HURTS—but when he opened the door and pulled me through there was no hall, just an icy chill and the blessed stink of human air.

CHAPTER 7

My shoulder ached, a low dull throbbing. It was dark. Rain fell, but I was dry. My clothes were dry, too. I was covered with the smoky fragrance of demon magic.

I blinked.

I was lying on something hard and cold, but something warm was against the side of my face. Someone holding me. Musk and burning ci

"Breathe," Jaf said. "Just keep breathing. It will pass, I promise."

I groaned. Kept breathing.

Then the retching started. He rolled me onto my side, still holding me up, and I emptied my stomach between muttering obscenities. The demon actually stroked my hair. If I tried to forget that he had just held a gun to my head, it was actually kind of comforting.

I finished losing everything I'd ever thought of eating. Retched for a little while. Then everything settled down, and I lay on the concrete listening to sirens and hovers passing by while the demon stroked my hair and held me. It took a little while before I felt ready to face the world—even the real human world—again.

I said I'd kiss the ground, I thought. Not sure I'd want to do that now that it's covered in puke. My puke. Disgusting.

"I suppose this is pretty disgusting," I finally said, wishing I could rinse my mouth out.