The Devil's Right Hand

“You would not have agreed to any of it.” Quiet, silken. “Especially my request for you to retreat while I deal with things beyond your strength.”

Gods damn you. You might be right. “We’ll never know now, will we.”

“Perhaps not.” A small tender smile. I could barely stand to see that expression on his face, his eyes softening and his mouth curving. Didn’t he understand what he’d just done to me?

I couldn’t help myself. “I could really hate you for this.” You asked me to trust you, I did, and this is what I get? You hurt me, hold me up against a w-wall—I could still feel the casual strength in his hand as he held me helpless, my legs dangling, his knuckles digging into my chest.

“You will outgrow that.” He still smiled, damn him.

I don’t think I will. I shut my eyes again, closing him out. The hover banked, my stomach flipped. “You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have done that to me.” I sound like a broken holodisc player. Come on, Dante. Snap out of it.

“I will do what I must. I am your Fallen.” He didn’t sound contrite in the least.

That would mean something to me if you hadn’t just held me up against the wall and admitted lying to me. “I only have your word for that.” It wasn’t true—I had Lucifer’s word as well as my own experience. But if I couldn’t hurt him with steel, all I had left were words. The darkness behind my eyelids was not comforting, I could still see him, the black diamond flames that meant demon.

Was it just me, or did he seem to pause uncertainly? “I only wish to keep you safe. You are fragile, Dante, for all that I have given you a share of my strength.”

I’m strong enough for some things, Japh. Go away. “Leave me alone.”

“I will not.” Flat, utter negation. I had rarely heard him sound less ironic and more serious.

“I mean it, Tierce Japhrimel. Leave me alone. Go finish your goddamn hunt and play patty-cake with Lucifer.” I wanted to pull my knees up, curl into a ball, and wait for the tearing pain under my breastbone to go away. I didn’t think it would go soon, but I needed to find a nice dark quiet place to hide in for a little while. “I want to go home.”

Wherever that is. The whine of hover transport settled in my back teeth. My stomach roiled. I hadn’t felt this unsteady, this defenseless, since… since when?

Since I’d been about twelve, that’s when. My twelfth year, when the man who had raised me since infancy had been knifed by a Chill junkie. Losing Lewis had left me adrift in a world too big for me, and I felt the same way now, my breath choked and my fingers and toes cold as if I’d just gone treading into the hall of Death, my skin far too sensitive for the brutality of the world.

I felt very, very small.

Of course, he knew the thing to say that would hurt me the most. “Do you have a home, Dante?”

I hunched my shoulders. Saint City’s close enough. That’s where I lived most of my life before you showed up to ruin it. Ruin everything. Dragged me into Hell, turned me into an almost-demon, died and left me alone, come back and finished off by… by… I couldn’t finish the thought. Still felt the tile, cold and hard against my back, and his fingers gone hard instead of caressing. I thought you were my home, Japh.

My skin crawled. I’d shared my body with him, let him into private corners of myself I had let no other lover access. Even Doreen, who had taught me to have a fierce pride in my body and its needs again, her gentleness opening up whole new worlds to me.

Even Jace.

The thought of Jace made the glass ball of calm numbness closed around me crack a little. I set my jaw, determined not to break.

I will not break. My teeth ground together, my hands tightened on my sword, my emerald spat a single defiant spark.

He sighed again. “Our legends warn of the price of becoming A’nankhimel. I ca

What was it in his voice that hurt so badly? Pleading. He was definitely pleading.

Fury rose inside me, my right hand curling around my swordhilt. My eyes flew open. He’d just held me up against the wall of a New Prague subway station, and he wanted me to understand? “Understand you? I thought I did! I thought I–I thought you—” I seemed to lose all capability of speech, though I didn’t splutter. It was close, though.

He nodded, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees, fingers steepled together. “Rage at me, Dante. Be angry. Extract your vengeance later; I will allow it. As long as you will have me and after, I am yours. There is no escaping it, not now.”

I shook my head, as if shaking away water. “I would have done anything you asked if you were just honest with me,” I said miserably, tears welling up. I hated myself for crying. I hadn’t cried through the hell of Rigger Hall, I had rarely cried afterward. It was the tone he used, I think, the gentle tone my body responded to. More than the softness in his voice was the betrayal. It was the betrayal that hurt the most.

Or was it the softness? I couldn’t tell. I found myself rubbing at my sternum again, my knuckles scraping against my shirt under the diagonal leather strap of my rig. I thought I knew you. The lump in my throat swelled bigger each passing second, as if I was trapped in a windowless room.

“You are still in the habit of being human, Dante. It will take time.” He didn’t even sound sorry. At least when a human guy beat his girlfriend up, he makes a show of being contrite afterwards.

A hot tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even fight him, he was too strong. “I could hate you,” I whispered.

“I warned you that you would. But you will outgrow that too.”

I glared at him. Jackshit I’m going to outgrow hating you. How could you, Japhrimel? My eyes narrowed slightly, I dropped my right hand with an effort, tapped my swordhilt. Said nothing.

“You are contracted for seven years to the Prince. I will make sure you survive them. If I must chain you to my side I will.” His jaw set and his eyes glowed. I believed him.

Oh, I’ll survive all right. I’m good at surviving. And if I die I have nothing to fear, my god will take me. Maybe you won’t follow me there.

I closed my eyes again. Leaned my head against the back of the seat. It was actually very comfortable. Nothing but the best for the Devil’s henchmen.

“You do not have to forgive me,” he repeated. “But I will have your cooperation.”

“You know,” I said, keeping my voice level, “you could really teach the Devil a thing or two.” The blackness behind my eyelids was tempting. Unfortunately, I could still see him, the tightly controlled black-diamond flames of his aura, still reaching out to enfold me, the mark on my shoulder burning softly, Power spreading down my skin like warm oil. Soothing, like fingers stroking my skin, working out the knots in my muscles, easing away tension.

There was a faint rustle as if he’d moved, his coat shifting with him. “I am the lesser evil, hedaira. Remember that.”

There was nothing I could say. If it was either the Devil or Japhrimel, where did that leave me?

Screwed, that’s where. Painted into a corner by a demon.

Again.