 
# **Contents**

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\- Looking for more from David?

\- Looking for more from Alica?
Grace By Alica Knight and David Adams

Copyright Alica Knight and David Adams

2018
Grace

A Paranormal Romance Novel

_Go to Heaven for the climate,_

_Hell for the company._

__

_— Mark Twain_
_A shape-shifting succubus, Grace, is expelled from Hell and given a simple task to prove she's worthy of a return to the pit. However, when circumstances conspire against her, the most powerful ally she can find plays for the other side..._

__

_A paranormal romance novel written by a team-up between David Adams and Alica Knight._

1

****

****

Straight Out of Hell

_Car Park_

_Jersey City Denny's_

MY HEAD HURT. IT WAS raining. I felt like I was going to throw up.

I was lying on asphalt on my side. The left side of my face burned; gravel rash, probably. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, resisting the urge to empty my stomach contents onto the ground. I was in a car park. A huge glowing sign nearby said DENNY'S. There were cars parked nearly between white lines. The sky was cloudy but through it could catch glimpses of blue sky.

This wasn't Hell. It was the mortal realm.

How had I gotten here?

Cautiously, I eased my way up to my feet. I was standing inside a massive scorch mark; a pentagram of melted, scorched asphalt. The standard mark of a helliport: a burning on the ground causing one hell of a scene.

Eyes started to find their way toward me. Drawn by either the sizzling pavement or the smell...or, as I discovered with a glance, my nudity.

Lucifer's Teeth. At least my skin was dark and brown and fleshy, not red. Gingerly, I reached up and touched my temple. My horns were hidden. I couldn't feel my wings. I was shapeshifted into a human body. I wasn't appearing as a demon. That was something at least.

"Hey lady," said some guy nearby, his arms full of brown paper shopping bags, huddling under a black umbrella. "Are you okay?"

Was I? Apart from having absolutely no memory of how I got here, and feeling like my stomach was in a washing machine and my body inside a totally different washing machine, I felt mostly okay. "I'm fine," I said.

"You're not wearing any clothes." They looked up at the cloudy sky overhead then back to me. "And I think you just got struck by lightning."

A lightning strike which had left a scorch mark in the shape of the five pointed star of the beast. I'd obviously plane shifted...but how? Why? Why couldn't I remember?

No time to argue with mortals. I took off, running across the car park, the rough asphalt stinging my human feet. I almost considered shifting to my natural form and flying away, but...no. A masquerade violation would bring down the big guy. I couldn't risk it. I'd seen what happened to demons who were sent to the pits as guests, not hosts. It wasn't pretty. The cold wind nipped at me, blowing water into my eyes.

"Hey lady!" the guy called after me, his voice retreating as I tore through the ranks of cars. "Come back! You're not well!"

I sprinted out of the car park as the rain intensified. Fortunately the downpour gave me some kind of cover; I couldn't let the humans get a good look at me and they had cameras and things these days. Good thing heavy rain usually messed them up. I kept my head down, ducking and weaving between cars, until I found myself in an alleyway between two low, squat buildings.

Succubi were much tougher and stronger than humans, but after sprinting for so long I was out of breath. I ducked behind a dumpster, leaning up against the metal and filling my lungs.

My stomach settled down. My skin started to dry out. I started to plan my next move. Where?

The dumpster shook slightly, vibrating as though something inside was trying to escape. The lid lifted, a tiny hand holding it open by an inch. A small creature crawled out, no more than two inches high, his hands filthy white claws like a drowned man's, his skin pink, fading to dark red on his wings. His tail was a scorpion's tail, wickedly barbed, and a pair of thin horns crowned his head.

An imp.

Imps were wretched creatures, messengers and servants of Hell, but they _knew_ things. They could be commanded by full demons. I just needed to assert dominance. "Creature," I said, "I com—"

"Well well well," he said over the top of me, his voice high pitched yet masculine, full of sarcasm and thinly veiled contempt. "Look who it is. The pit's biggest fuckup. The biggest loser of the millennium. Possibly ever." He took flight, hovering in front of my face. "How's it hanging, Grace?"

"You know my name?"

He sneered. "Everyone does."

"What is this?" I asked, staring him down. "Some kind of new layer of Hell?"

"Worse," he said, "New Jersey. But hey, it's gentrifying nicely, _thank-you-very-much_ and these days is quite liveable." He made a tiny _ok_ symbol. "Buy, buy, buy."

"That's great," I said, resisting the urge to throttle the contemptuous little beast. "What am I _doing_ here?"

He stared at me, eyeing me off with a curious, almost sympathetic air. "Oooh, baby. You don't remember...do you?"

"No," I said, searching my mind. "The last thing I remember, I was...I got a summons. From my boss, I think." I remembered reading the note and feeling _so good_. I had crawled out of my pit and shifted into this form, the same one I was in now, and then I had...

Forgotten almost everything. What was left was fuzzy. There had been a flash of energy. A white light. "I don't know." I shook my head. "Tell me what happened," I said. A commanding tone was important with imps.

The little thing laughed at me. Laughed right in my face. "Well, if you don't remember what you did..." He blew out a low whistle. "That's too bad. I can't tell you _shit_. Orders from the top." He stuck out his tiny hand. "I'm Asmodeus. Third layer, fourth order, Bannerman of Hell."

"I am Grace, Fifth layer, first order, succubus."

"I know who you are," he said, cheerfully but voice edged in ominous promise. " _Everyone_ knows who you are."

Now _that_ made no sense. Nobody knew who I was. I was a very minor demon, only a few centuries old. "What do you mean?"

"Can't say."

"But—"

"Can't. Say."

Fine. Imps and their rules. Torturing the little bastard wouldn't give me anything...they didn't feel pain. "Okay," I spat. "Then leave me alone. I need a little moment to focus..." I grimaced, closing my eyes. It didn't help. "And try to think of a way out of this."

No matter how much I rifled through my memories I couldn't find anything. Just the white flash. Then nothing.

"I'm here to help you," said Asmodeus, fluttering over and prying open my left eye. It watered uncomfortably. I swatted him away. "C'mon. There's a safe house nearby. We can talk there...and get you some clothes."

Safe house? "Okay," I said, glaring at the tiny creature, entirely unsure this was in my best interest. "Lead on."

2

****

****

Asmodeus

__

_Alleyway outside _

_Heavenly Apartments_

_New Jersey_

ASMODEUS LED ME THROUGH ALLEY to other alley, winding between dilapidated buildings. The rain eased up, becoming a light drizzle, and that worried me a little. With the rain gone people would come out. I still didn't have any clothes.

"So," I asked, firmly. "How did I get here? I don't remember helliporting, and using that ability on others isn't possible for anyone below the first layer. Gotta be a big deal to do it."

"Maybe you were real drunk," said Asmodeus, somewhat evasively.

"I wasn't drinking," I said. He should have _known_ this stuff. "And it wouldn't matter anyway. Succubi are immune to poisons. Alcohol counts as a poison."

"Yeah." Asmodeus blew out a whistle, fluttering over to a fire escape, the door grimy and blackened by pollution. "This is the place."

Looked like some kind of cheap hellhole, but I gently pulled open the door and slipped into the stairwell. The door to this level was chained up—fire safety apparently wasn't a big deal in this place—so I began to climb.

"So," said Asmodeus, perching on my shoulder. "You woke up in a Denny's car park, huh? Wow. Your life is a _Cards Against Humanity_ Card."

My memory was almost blank. Only fragments of stuff from the pit. I definitely didn't remember anything about how I got here. Maybe it was a substance problem...even though that made absolutely no sense since my blood couldn't be poisoned.

_Could demons have inner demons?_ Huh. Sounded like something Jayden Smith would tweet.

I glared at Asmodeus out of the corner of my eye, turning at the landing and continuing to walk up. "You still haven't told me why you're _really_ here," I said. My legs ached from all the running but I ignored their complaints. "And I don't believe for a moment that it's because you wanna help me. Nobody in the pit does anything for anyone else."

Asmodeus didn't answer for a moment, casually tapping his ankle against my shoulder. "Can't say," he said, finally.

Useless little beast.

I passed the third floor. Asmodeus grabbed my ear. "Stop here."

"Ow!"

He let go. "Sorry, old habit."

Old habit? "You regularly grab people by their ears?"

"Yup," he said, without elaborating. "Room 313."

313. That was so...boring. "Why not 666?" I asked.

He stared at me like I was stupid. "Because for one of Hell's hideouts, that would be way too obvious. Try to use your brain a little bit, huh?"

Fair enough. I ducked out of the stairwell and into a musty, smelly corridor. The carpet was a stained red, as though this building were once an expensive set of apartments left to decay.

"I thought you said this place was gentrifying," I said, passing by various doors. Each one was cheap, painted chipboard. 301, 302, 303...

"It's a process," said Asmodeus, sounding very pleased with himself. "We're doing good work. Lots of imps working this city. Hard working, salt of the pit kind of folks we are."

I was sure they were. Industrious little things, subtle but stupid.

We came up to Room 313. The plaque hung slightly askew and from within I could smell the faint, comforting aroma of brimstone; far too subtle for any human to detect.

"A'right, here we go," said Asmodeus, fluttering off my shoulder and hovering near the lock. He reached into the keyhole, fumbling with the tumblers with his fingers, and then the door popped ajar with a _click_.

I pushed open the door. Beyond was a room much bigger, and more lavish than its surroundings would suggest; the red carpet here was clean and gilt with gold, the windows were floor-to-ceiling and covered by thick white curtains, and even the walls were covered in thick, plush tapestries depicting Hell's various victories.

"Nice," I said, stepping past the threshold. The room seemed to go on and _on and on_ , as though it were far, far bigger than the contents of the cramped apartment block.

"Yeah, well, senior demons sometimes camp out here, when they're off to play havoc with the stock market in NYC, or go to Occupy Wall Street protests or whatever. The head honchos ride in style, you know. And they play both sides."

Of course they did, everyone knew that. That was how our side was doing so well; we had our fingers in the extremes of all political movements. Republicans and Democrats. White and black. When it came to stirring up racial tensions and goading people into sin, we didn't take sides. We did whatever we could to make life just that little bit worse for as many mortals as possible.

But none of this answered the important question: what I was doing here. I turned and put my hands on my hips, glaring at Asmodeus. "Okay. Talk, little guy. _Now_." I swept my hand around. "Why all...this? What am I doing here?"

"Can't say," said Asmodeus.

I simply glared, narrowing my eyes at him and putting my hands back on my hips.

Asmodeus sighed, running his little hands through his stringy hair. "Okay," he said, "here's what I _can_ tell you." He took a deep breath. "You're banished."

He might as well have told me that I had two heads, or that I was being reassigned to work as Heaven's bouncer. "That's not possible," I said, waving a hand. "I'm a fucking full demon. I'm a blooded resident of the pit. There hasn't been a single soul raised from Hell since the founding, let alone an actual factual dark one."

I waited for him to laugh, to tell me it was all a stupid imp joke, something obviously that couldn't happen because it had never happened and was totally impossible.

He didn't laugh.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." Asmodeus tapped his foot almost nervously. "You're gone-ski. I mean...demons can plane shift at will. Try it. Helliport to your lair. I'll wait."

Okay, fine. I'd show that little twit. I turned my focus inward, summoning the dark energy required to tear a hole in the mortal realm and slip between the planar boundaries into the pits. My fingers felt warmth, the familiar fire of Hell, and a pleasant tingle ran up my spine. I felt my body start to slip away...

And then a massive shock coursed through me, a powerful flash of lightning that I felt rather than saw. My whole body lit up in pain; the comforting heat of Hell had become a roaring wall of fire, impenetrable and inhospitable.

With a shriek of pain, I found myself back in room 313, a smouldering pentagram below my feet and a bemused-seeming Asmodeus looking on.

"Told ya," he said, words dripping with smugness.

Lucifer's Teeth. This...this was really bad.

I tried again. Focusing my anger, I used it to draw upon my inner power. I pushed hard; whatever barrier was forcing me back, I would overcome it. I would—

Another bolt of lightning, this one much more powerful. Almost angry. I reappeared in the apartment, smoke rising from my whole body, my hair frazzled.

Slowly, painfully, the realisation dawned.

Asmodeus was telling the truth. I wasn't able to plane shift home. I was stuck here...for now, at least. Forever?

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, trying to keep a slight shake out of my voice. I...I couldn't stay on the mortal realm. I just couldn't. I'd have to live in hiding my entire life, or the nephilim would find me and destroy me. "Help me out a bit, hey?"

"Well," said Asmodeus, his tail swaying gently behind him, "fortunately I'm authorised to offer you a deal. Typical Hell stuff. Barely Faustian at all."

Barely Faustian? Well, I wasn't exactly in a place to be picky. I wanted to bargain, or at least _try_ to come up with a better deal, but I knew in my heart I would probably take anything at that point. "Okay," I said, cautiously. "I'm listening. What do I need to do?"

"Simple," said Asmodeus, tapping his finger against his temple. "Figure out a way to get back into Hell's good graces, toots. They're the ones that kicked you out, right? So just make nice. Find out how to make the pit lords happy."

I scowled darkly. "How am I supposed to do _that_ if I have no idea who I am or why I got kicked out?"

"Never said it would be easy," said Asmodeus, his voice betraying no small amount of pride. "It was technically my idea."

"Well," I spat, "don't do me any favours."

He snorted. "I won't, with that attitude. Anyway. The point is, you prove you're a lusty, nasty demon worthy of the pits, and baby, you'll probably earn your right to go home."

Probably. Wow. "That's just fucking great." I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Where am I going to find even a _hint_ toward how I can make Hell happy again? They don't exactly make it easy for people to know they even _exist_ on this place."

Asmodeus shrugged helplessly.

"Okay," I said, my tone icing up. "Where do _you_ think I should look?"

"Babe, this is a train-ride away from New York and New Jersey City University is just down the road. Sleep with some guys. Get info from them. I don't know; you're the succubus, this is _your_ game, sugar. Find the most evil, nasty person you can find and get what he knows. Find out what schemes they're into. Use that."

I wanted to rustle my wings, but I was still shapeshifted. "It's still basically impossible."

He groaned. "Look. If you get stuck, there are...options. _Need-to-know-basis_ kind of deal, okay? But for now, you're the sex demon." He made a little shooing motion. "So go have sex. Fuck some guys! Hell, it's 2018. Fuck some girls too. Anyone counts as long as they can help you. Screw your way to information."

I got the distinct impression he was trying to tell me something he otherwise couldn't. Have sex...how could that possibly help? "Do I have any time limit?"

"Nah. You wanna spend a few centuries kicking around Earth? Be my guest. Just maintain your guise as a normal human. Stay undercover. Incognito." His tone became dark and ominous. "You _don't_ want to piss off the nephilim."

Of course I didn't want that. I wasn't _suicidal_. "And...where exactly should I go?"

"Like I said," said Asmodeus, his tone a little belittling. "There's a college campus nearby. NJCU. They don't exactly take attendance and you can fit in there. Go to a party or something; you know what these places are like, full of drunk, horny twenty-somethings who'll be more than happy to help you fill your quota. Fuck some people, like a whole bunch, and squeeze them for how they can help make Hell love you again. Then you can go back. Consider it...a test of loyalty."

Right. Loyalty. Why they'd want to test me in that way made no sense. I'd always been a loyal soldier in the pit's armies. Pit-izens, they called us. Good folk. Strong cultural roots.

"In the meantime," he said, "there's plenty of clothes to choose from, and a phone you can use. Just ask me if you need anything else." He jerked his tiny thumb toward a closed door. "Your room is there. Good luck, sugar."

Great. Just...great.

3

****

****

Safe House

__

_Room 313_

_Heavenly Apartments_

_New Jersey_

MY ROOM WAS A SMALLER version of the main foyer; a big, lavishly decorated hotel room that looked like something out of Trump Tower. Two narrow, tall windows overlooked Jersey City, letting in only a little light, casting everything in a dim, gloomy palate. A heart-shaped bed with rose-red sheets dominated the centre of the room, flanked by two heart-shaped bedside tables; one had a lamp, the other, a black iPhone covered in flame stickers. A whole wall was nothing more than a huge, open walk-in robe that stretched on seemingly for miles, full of rack after rack of clothes. Asmodeus hadn't lied when he'd said there were plenty to wear. In the en suite, a massive silver tub with bubbling hot water and a rack of heated towels. I now knew where the smell of brimstone was coming from; my nose tingled as the bubbles popped.

It smelled like home.

Time to clean myself up. I stepped into the en suite. In the mirror, I could see the face I'd adopted. The left side of my face was burned pretty badly. I didn't hurt at all but it looked ugly as anything. No wonder my face had hurt when I woke up.

I couldn't helliport, but I hoped I had my other powers. I drew myself inward again, shifting my form. The burned skin melted away and disappeared. At least _that_ worked.

New plane of existence, new me. I cycled between a few of my favourite forms, my body emitting faint crunching noises as my bones rearranged themselves. Maybe I could be Li Mei? A Chinese form I'd picked up from the turn of the century. I studied her face. She was cute as a button, busty and with short cropped hair, but a little too old. Imani was African woman; that might work...but she was a little tall for me, and long hair was a _pain_. It went down to her waist. Plus she was just a kid. No way she would pass for a college student.

Maybe...Tatanya.

Oh yeah. This was it. Tatanya. Platinum blonde, legs that went out to forever, and a body that was at once delicate and strong. Twenty-two when she died, with smooth pale skin and blood red lips. She, like all my forms, was once a real person; in life she'd been a cannibal, driven to eating her dead family during the Siege of Stalingrad. After the war she discovered she developed a taste for 'long pork', gotten greedy, gotten caught, shot, sent to Hell and to me.

Her soul had shrieked and wailed delightfully as I drank it up, and when it was utterly consumed I had taken her form and her voice as my own.

"How she screamed," I said, testing out her voice. It was smooth as silk, with just a little _sexy_ edge to it. Perfect. "How she cried..."

Now I'd decided on what I wanted to look like, I went to clean up. I slid into the tub and let out a long sigh. Banished...would I ever again taste the flames of Hell? Smell the _real_ brimstone? I had nothing to go on. And if I didn't get back to Hell, there'd be no more souls for me to drink. No demon had ever been banished before. The long term effects of this were a mystery.

Asmodeus buzzed into the room like some kind of annoying bee. He had a tiny satchel in his hands. "Hey," he said, tail lashing behind him. "I almost forgot. Gotta ink ya."

"Ink?"

"Tattoo," he said, fluttering over to the side of the tub and opening the satchel, revealing a little needle and a set of inks. "Special one. It tracks your progress. Every time you take a step closer to your goal, you should get a little _ding_ in your head." He smiled malevolently. "What, you think the pit lords would accept your word for it?"

Yeah, I guessed they wouldn't. But at least I had _some_ hint. I held out my arm.

"It'll fade away when you're done." Asmodeus flew up to my shoulder, perching there delicately and leaning over my arm, needle in hand. His hands became a blur; the needle went in, buzzing as it deposited ink under my skin. It hurt. I squeezed my hand through the pain.

Slowly, Asmodeus drew out a pentagram on my skin about the size of a penny, and then stopped and regarded his work.

"It'll _ding_ every time you get closer," said Asmodeus. "Just a little note in your head. One ding when you get to the party—kind of a test. Another one when you met the target. And one when you're done." He held up a hand. "Oh, and I know you're a succubus, so I gotta tell you. When it comes to sex...three rules. One: it has to be consensual, or you'll attract too much attention to yourself. Two: Nothing too weird, same reason. Three: No devils or damned souls. Give 'em a kiss and you'll know what they are."

"I know how kissing works," I said, sliding out of the bath and yanking one of the towels off the rack, wiping myself down. I eyed off the tattoo in the mirror; the sting was fading, and it was small. Easily covered up with clothes. I wandered over to the endlessly long wardrobe and peered inside. "I better get started."

"Yeah," said Asmodeus, fluttering in front of me, his hands on his hips. "You better." He stopped, eyes widening, and he touched his ear as though he was a secret service agent listening to some unheard voice. "Wait, I got something else for you. A tip from the pit."

"Yeah?" I said, casually pulling a hoodie off the rack. It came with a set of black panties and bra, tight jeans, and a white t-shirt.

Asmodeus listened for a moment, a sly smile on his face. "Oh baby, you're in luck. Listen to this. Okay." He took a deep breath. "Looks like one of our agents got discovered by a celestial and terminated. It'd take days to free up another succubus for this operation, normally, so we'd have to cancel...but you're _right here_. Convenient."

"Convenient," I echoed. "But what's in it for me?"

"Do this job," said Asmodeus, "and I'm authorised to give you a free tip."

Just a free tip? Better than nothing I guessed. "Okay," I said, sliding the panties up my legs. "What do I have to do?"

"Simple," said Asmodeus, flashing row after row of sharp, tiny teeth. "Go to a house party."

I stared, waiting for more instructions. "And?"

"And nothing. That's it, baby."

That didn't seem right to me. "That's it?"

"Almost. Basically, the story is: a bunch of dumb college kids from NJCU are having a drunken party in Jersey City. _Tonight_. There's a mark there, someone we're keeping our eye on. I don't know who. All I know is that the target has pretty important family connections. If you get a chance, find out what they are. Leverage them. We want him under our thumb and by all accounts, sex is the way to do it. But if you can't, no biggie. As long as he sees your face, gets to know you, trust you, that's all we need. We're playing the long game here. It's a milk run. Promise."

That made sense. It was standard demon fare. Corrupt the child, blackmail the parent. "Anything else?" I asked. "Like, a name might be helpful."

Asmodeus shook his head. "This is all need-to-know, and there's a lot that's above me. The pit lords said you'll know it when you see it." He smiled like some kind of evil cat. "Doll-face, this is taking candy from a baby right here. They're drunk. They're horny. They will melt like butter. Just go there, blend in, find out which kid is the son of a politician or...whatever. Get in his head. Or pants. Whatever works for you."

I squirmed my way into a pair of jeans, and then pulled the t-shirt up over my head. That actually sounded like a nice way to get some credit with the pit...and anyway, I needed to know what Asmodeus knew. "Sounds promising," I said. "Where is this party?"

"Guy called Damien Anderson's house. Our agent has a persona, Jessica, but obviously she can't make it since she's dust now. Just pretend to be her friend or something." He jabbed his thumb toward the bedside table and the phone there. "I'll text you the address."

"Go to a drunken frat party, posing as Jessica's friend, at Damien's house." I flipped my hoodie over my head, giving a look out the window to the setting sun. "What can go wrong?"

4

****

****

Party Time

__

_Damien's House_

_New Jersey_

IT TOOK ME A LITTLE while to find Damien's place. The train was crowded and the Uber late, but I got there.

I didn't want to arouse suspicion so I had the driver drop me off a few blocks away and I walked the rest of the way. I was glad I did. The rain had cleaned the streets, making everything smell fresh and clean and distinctly _mortal_. But below the pleasant smell I could smell the sneaky, sin-filled reek of humanity.

So many sinners, rank and foul, but so many sweet, innocent souls too. All of them filled the city to its brim. Crammed into the streets. Packed into cars. Filling every house and car park and shopping mall. A tide of flesh, ripe for the picking. So many people. Maybe coming to the mortal realm might be good for me...it was good to stretch my legs. Lucifer's Teeth, it might even be fun.

Finally, I got to the address Asmodeus had texted me. It was a massive two-story condo that was almost some kind of waterfront McMansion. It looked, vaguely, look a squashed version of the house from Home Alone; tall and white, with a neatly cared for lawn and garden, and a rear that backed up to the water. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows could see a boat moored at a miniature pier, bobbing slightly in the Hudson River.

Damien had a nice place, I had to admit that. Or rather his folks did. That sent my brain ticking. Places like this were not cheap. Damien was probably the mark.

Loud, bopping music drifted out from the open door, followed by the scent of beer, BO, and sweat. Through the windows I could see college kids drinking, laughing, smoking, and generally revelling.

A house party at a waterfront condo. Just like the nasty little imp had said. Perfect.

It was time for me to do what I was good at: seducing people. I pulled back my hoodie, carefully messing up my hair so it had that perfectly sculpted pseudo-bed-head look, and then I headed in.

Before I even got to the door, a guy came out to meet me, smiling a polite, slightly nervous smile. He was tall, with tanned skin and a slim build, and although there was an unsteady edge to his smile, he was quite good looking. He had a red solo cup in hand and was wearing a black open shirt over a white T and slim jeans.

"Hey," he said, giving me a little salute with the cup. "Here for the party?"

"Definitely," I said, giving my best smile. This must be Damien. "I'm Grace. Looks like a ripper of a rager, huh?"

The guy glanced over his shoulder then back to me. "Yeah," he said, awkwardly slipping his cup into his other hand then sticking out his arm. "Nice to meet you, Grace. I'm Gabe."

A handshake? Really? I put my hand in his, squeezing. As I did, I caught a whiff of his scent; rich and sweet and gentle, fresh and clean, like a crisp sea breeze. He was a good guy, right down to his bones. Goodness seeped through his very skin, flesh, every part of him, filling the air with its _smell_.

Gross. The stench made me annoyed. I squeezed his hand tighter.

"Oooh," he said, wincing and pulling back his hand. "Real tough grip you have there."

"I'm stronger than I look," I said, unable to keep a little smile from sneaking across my face. "My dad always said I had the devil's hands."

"Well, hopefully they aren't idle playthings," said Gabe, his smile returning. "Cool accent, by the way. English?"

My affection was actually not deliberate. It had just stuck after a visit and I couldn't get rid of it. "Australian."

"Neat." His smile widened. "So, Grace, you're here with anyone, or...?"

That was guy-speak for _do you have a boyfriend?_ "I'm Jessica's friend," I said, keeping things vague, craning my head slightly. "She said she was going to meet me here." I slipped a little teasing lie in there. "Something about her boyfriend just dumping her, allegedly, so she was looking to get totally white-girl-wasted and see what happens. As for me? Well, we'll see. Is she here yet, or...?"

"Ah, Jessica hasn't shown up yet," said Gabe, seeming to like that answer. He took a big swig of his beer, smiling at me in a way that was actually fairly genuine. "Still, any friend of hers is a friend of mine. Come on in, we'll get you set up with a drink and introduce everyone."

I fell in beside him as he turned and led me through the doorway, into the raucous party. The volume hurt my ears but I knew I'd get used to it shortly.

"So tell me, Gabe," I said, 'accidentally' bumping my hip against his as we walked. "I heard Damien's dad is real important. Or is it his mum? I forget."

He seemed to consider, sipping at his beer. He raised his voice over the music. "I dunno. I know they're rich. I think his mum owns that gun company. The one that has the new contract with the military?"

Right. Then the guy probably _was_ Damien. "I love guns," I said, stepping past a couple making out, trying to figure out how I was going to bluff my way into that. I had no idea about guns at all but this was good. Gave me a goal. "You can introduce me, right?"

"Funny, Jessica was going to introduce _me_ ," said Gabe, a slight flush crossing his perfectly innocent cheeks. "I don't know him personally, but this is my first time at one of these things and I was hoping he'd have a job for me over the summer. Jessica mentioned that might be a possibility."

_Ding_.

I felt it in my head. A loud, clear chime that seemed to come from directly behind me. I looked about. Nothing. But I'd heard it alright. The signal that I'd arrived. It made me smile. I was on my way back to Hell.

Step one of three. I'd have this job done in no time.

"You okay?" asked Gabe, concerned.

"I'm fine," I said, flashing my best smile. "Just thought I saw someone I knew here."

Gabe looked at me curiously for a second and then shrugged. "A'right," he said, leading me further into the massive house, through a crowd of people.

I followed him as close as I could. We went out the back, where the porch had a beautiful view of a professionally maintained garden with hedges and flowers, with sculpted topiaries framing the moon rising over the Hudson River, and a huge yacht tied up to the pier.

Built into the back wall of the condo, a huge, expansive bar bulged out like some kind of tumour on the building, curving slightly. Behind it, a huge wall full of bottles, most of which were partially empty. What kind of turbo-rich people had their own bar in their house?

It was being staffed by a short, broad guy, wearing a too-small white shirt stretched over a muscled chest, black hair peeking out from a backwards baseball cap, his eyes obscured by thick aviator glasses.

"That's Damien," said Gabe, pointing at the guy behind the bar. "I really wanna meet him when I get a chance."

"Me too," I said, watching my mark serve drinks and laugh it up, making stupid jokes and pouring brightly coloured liquid into shot glasses. Our eyes met briefly. He tipped his shades, flashing a broad, confident smile, as though he had figured me all out with a single glance.

He would be easy prey.

5

****

****

Spin the Bottle

__

_Damien's House_

_New Jersey_

TRYING TO TUNE OUT THE loud music, I scrutinised Damien for moment, trying to hear his voice, isolate his scent. There were so many people...it was impossible to get a reading on him, impossible to smell if he was good or not.

"And that's Tim," said Gabe, pointing across the party room to a darker corner in the living room, where a gaggle of people were sitting in a friendly, haphazard circle. He vaguely followed the line of his finger. Some guy, lanky and awkward, waved to us both, his legs crossed.

He was distracting me. Annoying me. I tried to keep my attention off him, but his voice—soft and polite, but yet, hinting at a hidden power—drew my attention away from Damien.

Gabe's finger went around the circle. I kept trying to stop paying attention, with limited success. "And that's Emily. And Laila. And Melissa, and Johnathan and Bulldozer."

That last name tore my attention off from Damien. "Bulldozer?" I asked, incredulously. The person he'd pointed to, I thought, was a massive gorilla of a man, who looked about ten years older than everyone else and must have been at least six feet tall and, seemingly, almost as wide. He was an absolute brick of a guy, but his nervous, shy smile betrayed a much more gentler person underneath. "Why do they call him Bulldozer?"

Gabe stared at me incredulously. "You serious?" He said. "Just look at him. Plus he's from some weird former-Soviet state, and his real name is impossible to pronounce."

Fair enough. I sized up the others in short order. Emily was a nerd. Thick glasses, Pokémon t-shirt and slightly chubby figure. Intriguing. Might have to do something with her if I could, she seemed like the type to swing both ways.

Laila seemed more the sporty type, tall and dark and fit, but more interesting to me was the purity ring on her hand. Shit, she might as well have painted a massive target right on her arse.

Melissa seemed the quiet mousy type, boring, and she was holding hands with Johnathon, who seemed equally mousey and boring, so I didn't bother lingering on the two of them.

"Sit with us?" asked Gabe, and I was tempted to actually do it. Damien was my current goal, but there was potential in this group too, and I needed quantity over quality. He wasn't going anywhere. This was his place, after all.

"Sure," I said, moving to sit. Everyone shuffled around to make room and the circle widened a bit. "Why not."

Gabe gave a little playful bow and sat beside me. "Everyone be nice."

Everyone did that awkward thing where they all kind of smile and say hello all at once.

"Your accent," asked Emily. "It's..."

"Australian," I said. In some ways I wish I didn't speak this way. It was making me stand out.

"Are you here to play?" asked Emily, smiling at me a little shyly.

I blinked in confusion. Had I missed a piece of the conversation? My thoughts were stuck on Damien and how I would extract whatever information I could from him. "Play?"

A playful little titter came across everyone. Bulldozer and Emily laughed especially loudly, the two of them exchanging an extended, almost hopeful, look. I could tell they were into each other.

"Spin the bottle," said Gabe, a little shyly.

"Isn't that game for teenagers?" I asked, confused, trying to act the part. "I haven't played that since..." well, not ever, since the last time I came to the mortal realm was a long time ago, but they didn't need to know that. "Since forever."

"Drunken college students are basically sober teenagers," said Gabe, a point I could hardly refute. "And college students with tequila are basically drunken teenagers. With all that implies."

Gabe kept making these smart points, and it made me annoyed. Especially with how _goodly_ he smelled. "Okay," I said, giving a playful little grin, unable to avoid a little fun. I was a succubus after all. "Let's play."

Emily clapped her hands excitedly, jumping up and practically skipping over to a cupboard, withdrawing a board-game box, and from within, she withdrew a large folded square mat. In the box was an oversized dice; my keen eyes picked up inscriptions with various "tasks" on each face.

_Kiss_

_Kiss (lips)_

_7 Mins. In Heaven_

_Talk dirty to the subject_

_Touch their butt_

_Get naked, 2 minutes or longer_

Interesting stuff. The music shifted to being some kind of techno-reggae-punk-fusion.

"Let's use this one," said Emily, awkwardly unfolding the thing and spreading it out on the ground. She, like all of us, kept her voice raised to talk over the music. "Damien said it was okay."

Johnathon reached behind him and retrieved a bottle. Apparently he had a large stockpile back there. He rolled it into the centre of all of us, and Emily drunkenly leaned over and put her hand on it.

"I'll spin to see who starts," said Melissa, squeezing her boyfriend's hand—they _seemed_ like they were a couple, who knew?—and reaching out for the bottle. "Whoever it points to, they spin the bottle. Then they throw the giant dice to see what they do. Right?"

"Yup!"

Seemed easy enough. Melissa put her hand on the bottle and twisted it. The bottle clattered as it spun around, nearly ten times, coming to stop on Bulldozer. Emily looked hopeful. Nervously, she leaned over and tossed the dice onto the mat. It stopped on _Kiss (lips), 10 seconds_.

"Ooooh," said everyone. That was a fun one.

Bulldozer shyly leaned over and with his massive hand, spun the bottle again. It clinked, jumping around nearly twenty times—around and around and around—until finally it landed back on Laila. The girl with the purity ring. She looked to Emily for what I could only assume was support, nervously spinning the ring on her finger.

Emily looked _distinctly_ disappointed, barely able to mask her concern. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she protested, sounding distinctly feeble.

"Nah, do it," I said, unable to keep the evil demon-urges within me at bay. "We gotta do what the bottle says..."

With obvious reluctance, Laila leaned in towards Bulldozer. Bulldozer leaned in toward Laila. They kind of awkwardly hovered there for a moment, and then kissed the most awkward, unsexy kiss in the whole history of the world, ever.

Everyone began to count. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six..." they kept it up, to their credit. "Five, four, three, two, one!"

The pair of them broke off, shuffling awkwardly back into their places. A glass broke somewhere in the background, leading to raucous cheers. _Taxi! Taxi!_

"Okay," said Laila, obviously trying to suppress a nervous stutter. "I-I guess it's my turn to spin."

Around and around the bottle went, nearly sliding off and breaking, but a quick swat by Johnathan returned it to the centre of the circle.

It ended up on Emily again. Once again, she exchanged a brief, hopeful look toward Bulldozer, which was reciprocated.

Emily picked up the dice. It ended up on _Talk dirty to the subject_. Less interesting, especially given how loud it all was, but she dutifully spun the bottle.

It ended up on Laila. The poor girl put her hands on her face, obviously shocked.

"It likes you," I said, enjoying watching her suffer.

Emily climbed over the mat toward Laila, leaning over and cupping her mouth, whispering into the other girl's ear. Laila squirmed uncomfortably, emitting a loud squeal, the fidgeting of her ring becoming a frantic spinning.

I would have liked to hear what Emily said, but the pounding music and boisterous crowd drowned it all out, even from my senses.

"That's going on my tumblr," said Jonathan, grinning like some kind of extremely happy cat.

"Your turn," I said to Laila. "Spin it up."

With a shaky, trembling hand, she did so. It rattled, spun, and then ended up on me.

"Ooh, it's the new girl," said Jonathan, and all at once, the atmosphere of the game changed. Every eye was on me.

Carefully, I reached out for the dice, showing off my curves as I did so, and tossed it.

_7 Mins. In Heaven_

Laila squeaked and shook her head firmly, her face showing that she was really not keen. "I can't, sorry. Pass. Pass..."

Everyone's excitement deflated slightly, but that was okay. I had plenty of time to work at her; few could genuinely resist the efforts of a succubus. "No worries," I said, deliberately injecting comfort into my voice to put her at ease. "I'll catch you later." I winked and spun the bottle again.

Round and round it went, seeming like it would never stop. Then it slowed and finally became still.

Pointing at Gabe.

6

****

****

Seven Minutes in Heaven

__

_Damien's House_

_New Jersey_

THE BOTTLE POINTED STRAIGHT TO Gabe. Everyone laughed, except him, who seemed a little embarrassed.

But I wasn't going to let his sheepishness get in the way of a little fun. "A'right," I said, standing up out of the circle and nodding toward to the cupboard. "Let's go, Gabe."

He stood too. "You sure? We barely know each other."

I put my hand on my hip, giving a playful little smile. "Believe me, it's totally fine. This isn't my first time playing." I stepped forward, slipping my hand around his waist and firmly tugging him along beside me. "Seven minutes, guys. Set a clock."

Melissa pulled out her phone and set it. Seven minutes.

I led Gabe toward the cupboard, pulled open the door, and shoved him in, closing it behind me, muffling some of the pounding music outside. The loud party seemed almost a world away. Damien's place had cupboards the size of some people's bedrooms, so we had plenty of room.

Gabe smiled sheepishly at me. "Hey, you know, I don't know what other people did in the other games you've played at this, but—"

"We had sex," I told him, bluntly as I could. "A lot of sex."

That didn't seem to disturb him much. "I figured."

"Okay, so what's the problem?" I ever-so-casually ran my finger down the frame of the cupboard door. "You don't wanna fuck me?"

Gabe's little smile showed me that he did more than any words he could say. "I just want to make sure that you're fully consenting to all this," he said. "There's alcohol, peer pressure...it's okay if we just chill here. I'll even tell people we did stuff if that's what you're asking."

I smiled like a big ole' shark scenting blood. "Does it look like that's what I want?"

"No, it does not," said Gabe. I got the impression he was honest like this all the time.

"Tick tock, we're wasting my seven minutes here," I said, trailing up to him in the cramped cupboard, casually slipping my hands around his waist. "Look, I get it. You're a good guy...not normally my type, but fine. I'll start you off with something real gentle..." I stepped forward, moving to kiss him.

Gabe casually held up a finger, putting it in front of my lips.

There was a brief spark of something as I kissed his finger. Normally I could sense a person's goodness or wickedness with a kiss, but it had to be on the lips, so I got nothing. Regardless, I felt... _something_.

It was probably the smell of goodness around him, interfering with everything.

"Maybe something else," he said. "Not much for kissing."

"Neither am I," I said, casually, teasingly, and I slid my body down his, until my head was positioned about groin height. The scent of _good_ drifting out from him intensified. "Unless it's a little... _lower_."

I expected him to tense up or get all shy, but instead he just casually rested his hand on my shoulder, gripping gently. That was what I liked to see...a little confidence. I reached for his zipper teasingly.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked as I yanked it down.

"We basically have to," I said, purring gently and slipping my hand into his jeans, having a feeling around. "That's internationally recognised Spin The Bottle law. I don't make the rules, buddy."

"Haha," said Gabe, shifting slightly as I touched his sensitive areas. "That's...true enough, I suppose."

I casually pulled out what I found, grinning up at him. "Just think. For the two of us here, right at this moment, a star had to explode in order to create the heavy elements that make up our bodies. Those dust particles had to come together, completely unguided, in this specific way, at this specific time, so that I could suck your dick in a rich guy's cupboard."

Gabe raised an eyebrow at that, giving my shoulder a playful squeeze. "Who am I to stand in the way of scientific progress?" he asked.

"That's one way to put it," I said, leaning forward and giving his bits a nice, firm kiss.

The scent of _good_ stung my nose, but otherwise, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as I'd feared. I was unaccustomed to it, especially not in such...intensity. Back in the pit, everyone down there was pretty evil. One didn't get sent to Hell for nothing. But here there were good souls, and that was something I hadn't anticipated in a long time.

And the _taste_. Warm and salty and rich, but not too much. It was actually really good.

Now, at long last, I understood why demons tried to tempt good mortals down to the pit. They were delightful.

I wanted more. So I got it. And all within seven minutes.

And it was _really, really_ good.

7

****

****

Tastes like Salt, Smells like Evil

__

_Damien's House_

_New Jersey_

WHEN I STEPPED, GIGGLING, OUT of the cupboard, I stumbled into a weird argument the rest of the players were having.

"You're comparing apples to oranges," said Jonathan, frustration building in his voice.

"I never understood that," said Emily, slurring her words slightly. "Why can't you compare different types of fruit?"

Nobody was more zen than a sorority girl on her forth martini. "A'right, fuckers," I said, grinning as I stepped back to my position in the circle. "That was fun."

Gabe stepped out behind me, grinning sheepishly. At least he'd remembered to do up his fly.

All eyes fell on me, although Emily kept glancing at Gabe, too. I think, on some level, she wished she'd been picked instead of me—even if she really liked Bulldozer. Girl had needs. I'd definitely have to get her number so I could have a stab at her.

"What did you guys _do_ in there?" asked Laila, leaning in toward me, her tone hushed so low I could barely hear it over the music. She was still fiddling with her purity ring. "We heard...noises."

I put my face close to hers, my lips barely an inch away from hers. The stench of her goodness hit my nose. It was _good_ like Gabe's, but...different. Not anywhere near as powerful and...well, very strange. "Well..." I barely whispered the words, breathlessly and husky. "We did a few things, like...this." I leaned forward and kissed her.

The scent of her goodness intensified right before my lips made contact with hers, but when they did, I could taste her. She was like expensive perfume over body odour. The purity ring, the shyness...all of these things were an act. She might be genuinely squicked by sex and romance, but there _were_ things in her heart that were wicked. One of the seven sins was there. It wasn't wrath, or lust, but...something else. Greed, possibly. No. Something else...then it hit me.

Pride.

Laila _genuinely_ thought she was better than everyone. All the pieces clicked into place. The whole _reason_ she was at this party was to make fun of them in her head. To imagine them going to hell and being tormented.

I'd have to make sure that when she was thrown into the pit, that she went to my corner.

Laila broke the kiss, pulling her head back in surprise.

"It's just a kiss," I said, playfully.

That didn't seem to be what she was complaining about. She wiped her mouth curiously, staring at me. "It tastes like...salt?"

I waggled my eyebrows, grinning wickedly. "It's just a kiss," I echoed, flicking my eyes to Gabe's groin.

Slowly, slowly, realization dawned all over Laila's face.

"Oh my God," she said, standing and shaking her head. "No, I have to get out of here!" Her face became an angry mask and she wheeled on the group. "I tried giving you a chance, but you're all filthy sinners. This is disgusting! You're disgusting!" She jabbed a finger around the circle wildly. "You're disgusting! And you're disgusting! And _you're_ disgusting!" Her finger lingered on me. "And you're especially disgusting! Go to hell!"

"I'm trying," I said, with all the genuineness I could summon in my voice. I'd have to keep the irony of her statement to myself. When she ended up in the pit...then we'd see how she cried.

Laila turned and stormed away.

"Sorry I ruined the game, guys," I said, standing and brushing myself off, giving everyone a big smile, especially Gabe. "But I should go mingle."

"Okay," said Johnathan, obviously looking a bit dejected. "Sorry, Grace. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah," said Gabe, shaking his head. "She was being a jerk, you don't need to go. Really. C'mon."

I gave him a little waggle of my fingers and stepped back. "See ya later, losers," I said, having absolutely no intention of doing that at all, wandering off into the party to seek out my prey.

"Wait," called Gabe from behind me.

I ignored him. I needed to know what Damien knew, bring him into the fold, to score some brownie points with the pit lords, so that I could _at least_ find out what Asmodeus knew so I could go home.

Time to get back into Hell's good books.

8

****

****

Green, Expensive Drinks

__

_Backyard_

_Damien's House_

_New Jersey_

I LEFT THE GAME AREA and wandered through Damien's house, back to the bar. Apparently during the seven minutes I'd spent "bobbing for apples" most of the guests had ducked out. I wasn't sure why—the music kept playing, and Damien's bar wasn't likely to run out of booze, but for some reason things were getting remarkably quiet.

Being around the remaining college kids—some of which were completely unconscious—refocused me on my task at hand. Find Damien. Get him to trust me, or at the very least, know me. Biblically or otherwise. Hell needed him for leverage, and I needed Hell to let me back in, so doing them a favour made sense.

I wanted to go home.

Carefully stepping over a freshly broken bottle nobody had bothered to clean up, I walked back out the back, to the water and the boat. Damien was wiping down the bar, and what was left of the party was seeming to be wrapping up. Just a few groups of randoms off in their little groups, finishing their drinks or loudly arguing about things. Snippets of conversations drifted toward me as my demonic senses adjusted to the quieter outside and the cool, night air.

"Hey, I saw _The Shape of Water_ , and believe me, that fish guy was hot as fuck."

I tuned in to another voice. "No no no, see, it's _rat_ poison. It's safe to eat. It kills rats, not people."

"Kill two birds with one stone," grumbled someone else. "Such a stupid saying. Is there a stone shortage I never knew about? Jeez. Just use two stones. Most of the Earth is littered with them."

Nothing interesting. Nothing I needed.

"Hey," came a voice, directed at me, drifting from the bar. Damien gave me a broad wave, still wearing his aviator glasses, grinning like some kind of game show host. "Here for one last drink?"

"That's right," I said, sidling up to the bar, putting just a little bit of swing into my hips as I did. "I don't really know anyone, so I'm kind of a social butterfly right now." A forced, ditzy giggle seemed like the best thing I could do so I let one out. "I don't know anyone here, so I'm just wandering."

"Neat," said Damien, laying his hands out on the bar just like someone out of the movies. I could tell he was eyeing me off. Checking me out. Studying my body, drinking it in. "Well, you know me now, right?"

_Ding_. The chime rang in my head again, signalling another step of my task was complete. This was definitely the target. "Right," I said, sliding myself onto one of the bar stools. "I'm Grace."

"Damien Anderson." His inflection twisted on his last name, as though that was supposed to impress me. "My folks own this place."

A whiff of his scent drifted toward me, but it was overpowered by his cologne. I couldn't get a reading. "Nice glasses," I said, smiling ever so demurely at him. "You like to fly?"

"Hell yeah," said Damien, a cheesy grin spreading over his face as he pulled up his glasses and, now rather brazenly and openly, eyed me off. "My mum owns a Piper Warrior that I love to take out for a spin sometimes. And, of course, there's the boat."

I wasn't sure how true that was, but of course I wasn't going to question it. "That's so amazing," I said, letting a little dopey edge creep into my voice, like every word he was saying was entrancing. "I love guys who can fly."

"Lemme get you a drink," he said, shooting little finger guns as he moved away from me, disappearing into the pantry.

"So hey," said Gabe, slipping into a seat beside me. His face was still flushed. "Uhh...so, can we talk about what just happened?"

"What happens in the closet stays in the closet," I said, giving him a cold shoulder. I didn't need him anymore. "I thought I made that clear."

"I don't think it was a closet," he said.

Gah. He was so annoying now. "Locker. Whatever. I'm busy, piss off."

Gabe sighed beside me. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. Talking to Damien." I wheeled about on the stool. "Wait, isn't that what _you're_ here to do, anyway?"

"Something like that," he said, but threw me an apologetic smile. "But when he's got the time. It's not urgent."

Right, whatever. I made a little shooing motion. "Okay. Me first. Get."

Gabe, with obvious reluctance, stood up. "Long as you're fine, I won't bother you again." And with that, he turned and headed back to the party. To his credit, he didn't look back even once.

Damien returned, carrying a bottle of green liquid which I could smell was both expensive and strong. "Check this out," he said, casually snagging a shot glass and pouring some of the strange, sweet-but-strong liquid into it. "I give this to all the hot girls. They love it."

See, _this_ was my kind of guy. Large, confident, and in charge. Kind of a jerk, but also kind of an alpha-type, too. I snatched up the drink, threw back my head, and downed it.

A demon's senses were higher than a humans. The smell of it was rich and, as I suspected, strong—but it was exotic, strange tasting, like nothing I'd ever seen or heard of before. Something artificial. Lead contamination, maybe? Or maybe something from the bottle? Regardless, it was strong enough to kick like a mule.

Either way, I didn't care. As I'd said to Asmodeus, poisons didn't affect demons. Alcohol counted. No matter how much of this shit Damien tried to feed me to 'loosen me up', it wouldn't matter. A demon's mind was always razor sharp.

"Wow," I said, smacking my lips and leaning a little over the bar, Damien's cologne stinging my nostrils worse than the damn drink did. "That's strong."

"Mmm," he said, nodding. "My folks bring it in from Abu Dhabi, when they comes back from business."

Well now, wasn't he just a font of information. "Tell me more about Abu Dhabi," I purred, leaning a little more over the counter, flashing plenty of teeth. "I'm super interested in that."

9

****

****

Cythera

__

_Backyard_

_Damien's House_

_New Jersey_

"WHAT DO YOU WANNA KNOW?" asked Damien, replacing the stopper on the bottle, grinning at me like a very happy boy indeed. "I've been to Abu Dhabi a few times, it's okay I guess, if you like the heat."

"I come from a real hot place," I said, returning his grin in kind. "So I love it when the mercury soars."

"Florida?"

"Close." I casually slid the shot glass back toward him. "Top me up, boy."

Damien's grin faded a little as he looked down at it. "Maybe something else," he said, "that stuff is strong."

"Don't be a pussy," I said. "It was good."

"It's also _expensive_ ," said Damien, in a tone which suggested this wasn't a discussion, but also...hinted at something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. "But if you want something else nice, we got plenty of other stuff. You like tequila? Vermouth?"

Eh. I wanted more of that green shit, but I didn't want to piss him off. "Tequila is fine," I said, giving my best smile. "So. Your folks. What kind of stuff do they do in Abu Dhabi?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, slightly suspiciously, but then reached for a bottle of light brown liquid and unscrewed its lid. "It's just my mum," he said. "Just signing contracts and making deals, selling guns and stuff. Sometimes it's other stuff."

Guns could be bought anywhere. It was the other stuff I was curious about. I snatched up the tequila, throwing it down my throat, but carefully making sure to spill a little down my top. "Hah," I said, giggling inanely. "Oopsie. I'm so clumsy."

"Yeah," said Damien, a strange edge to his tone. He dipped his shades and then, with a smile, nodded to the boat. "Wanna check out the boat? We actually bought it in Abu Dhabi and had it sailed all the way here."

"That's a long way," I said, pushing off the stool and effecting a playful little wobble. "Oopsie."

Damien lifted up a part of the bar, stepping out from behind it. He guided me toward the miniature pier his family had, to the boat moored there. As we got closer I could see it was really more of a rich man's small yacht; an 80 foot long ship at least, with multiple decks, plenty of glass, shaped sleek and narrow like an arrow. The hull was white with gold trim and it had shiny steel railings. It had two wind generators on the back that spun in the gentle breeze, and the top deck was bristling with radars. Inside, through the glow of lit TVs, I could see expensive looking leather couches and a much smaller version of the bar at Damien's house.

Lucifer's Teeth, that thing would have cost a mint.

"It's a Lazzara, eighty foot version," said Damien, with no small amount of pride. "My mum calls it the _Cythera_. Great for picking up chicks." He winked at me. "Or having them pick up you."

Hah. "Nice," I said, blowing out a low whistle.

"Yeah, it's a nice boat. If you want to know what it's like to own a boat, stand in a cold shower and rip up hundred dollar bills." Damien smirked. "That's what mum says anyway."

"Mmm. I bet you drive it like a grandpa."

He rolled his eyes. "Wow, are women always so bitchy wherever you're from—where did you say it was again?"

Bitchy? That was...surprisingly forthright, but I kept my smile up. "I didn't. But...well, I spent a few years in Sydney. Picked up an accent. Can't shake it. Makes me spell everything funny too. Too many vowels."

Damien laughed and casually threw his arm around my shoulder. "A'right, whatever. Well, you wanna go on my boat, right?"

"Hell yeah," I said, leaning up against him and following him down the creaking, bobbing pier, toward the fancy boat tied up at the end. I could... _sense_ , really, Gabe watching us as we walked, but I tried to push that out of my head. I had a job to do.

Damien grabbed hold of the railing and pulled himself onto the front of the _Cythera_ , extending his hand down to me.

I took it, and climbed up after him, taking a moment to steady myself on the moving ground. Damien gave me a swat on the backside as he moved past me, toward bow of the ship, unhooking the rope and pulling it back aboard. The yacht started to aimlessly drift away from the pier. "Girl, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" he asked, resting a foot on the railing and subtly puffing out his chest.

Cute. And ironic. "You think I'm an angel?" I asked, putting on my best smile. "That's so sweet. But aren't you worried about leaving the party?"

"Nah, it'll be fine. Most everyone's gone home by now." He walked past me, to the door that led into the superstructure and the comfortable couches within, beckoning me to follow. I did so.

Inside the yacht's interior, soft music played through a series of speakers embedded in the ceiling. Low, soft lights lit the compartment, with the helmsmen's instruments at the front and a huge widescreen TV at the back.

"Check this out." Damien moved over to the wheel, touching a few of the instrument panels and then turning the key. The engine roared to life and, with casual ease that showed he'd done this before, he steered the boat out onto the river.

He was still wearing his aviator shades. Inside. At night. While steering a boat.

"Cool," I said, trying to do my best to seem impressed and not annoyed with his literal showboating. My nose tingled as his scent began to fill the enclosed space; my nose confirmed what my brain already told me. Damien's aura was dark and sinister, rotten both morally and physically, as though he sweat too much and was ashamed of it; literally covering up his smell and moral failings with strong deodorant.

His was a different scent to Laila. A different sin, to be sure, but I couldn't tell which one it was.

Damien took his hands off the wheel, fumbling underneath the console and withdrawing a fan of money, seemingly glued together and prepared for this purpose. He flashed it to me, waving it excitedly as the boat wheeled around in circles.

Unfortunately for him, I could see it was a $100 in front of a bunch of $1's. I felt that adequately summed up his life. A lot of pretence and flashy extravagance, ultimately all an act.

A nagging, creeping doubt crept into my head. It might have been a stupid boat-party trick, but...if something like that really _was_ an insight into Damien's family situation, maybe they weren't rich after all. If so, who was my target here? What did that other succubus, Jessica, want?

I had a bad feeling about all this, suddenly. I wasn't sure if it was this...or Damien's change of attitude, or something else, but it didn't feel right.

The _Cythera_ got further away from the house, leaving the party in the distance, and it motored down the quiet of the Hudson River at night.

10

****

****

Making a Move

__

_Hudson River_

"SO HEY," I SAID, TRYING to bring the conversation back to my mission. "Tell me more about Abu Dhabi." I put a little tease into my voice. "Please? I'm super interested."

Damien snorted dismissively, cutting the engines and letting the ship drift in a slow circle. "Who could be interested in Abu-fucking-Dhabi? It's a hot shithole full of sand niggers, rich from oil that they use to buy guns to kill other sand niggers. When the oil runs out, they'll be back to being worthless desert trash in a generation and nobody will give a _fuck_ about them."

What a charmer. "Well," I said, cracking a big smile. "I don't know much about politics or oil. I guess I was more curious about the kind of weapons your mother sells." I spun a story as I talked. "My cousin works in Lockheed-Martin, so I guess I have an interest in them."

Another snort. Something he seemed to do a lot. "Government pigs suckling at the teat of the taxpayer. Besides, our new anti-aircraft system...they're going to kick the arse of whatever LM comes up with."

"Anti...aircraft system?"

For some reason, Damien suddenly felt a lot more comfortable talking about this kind of stuff. "Sure," he said. "Mum explained it. They're drones. Sort of. Basically a device set up on the ground, using a combination of FLIR and advanced cameras—passive sensors—to spot and identify hostile aircraft, then engage them with SAMs. Basically an air defence network that doesn't use radar, so it's passive and can't be detected. Mum's company stole the tech from the Russians so you know it actually _works_."

_Ding_. The chime went off in my head. The third signal. I had what I needed. Now I could leave.

"Cool," I said, faking a loud yawn. "Okay, well, we should probably head back." With my stupid task out of the way, I needed to go back to Asmodeus and find out what he knew. To discover what I had done to get kicked out of Hell.

"How about you just have a lay down here?" asked Damien, a strange light in his eyes. He was suddenly... _very_ excited. "You look tired."

"I'm fine," I said, realising how silly that sounded after having just faked such a big yawn. "I wanna go home."

Damien moved over to me, seemingly not concerned for my request. He slid his hands around my middle. "Nah, have a rest first. Don't you feel tired?"

My phone was in my jeans pocket, but it couldn't be later than 10:00. "What am I, a grandma?" I asked, snorting. "It's not that late."

"But you've had so much to drink," said Damien, smiling in a way I found distinctly creepy, cuddling up to my front.

Something about this was off. Way off. I opened my mouth to say something and he leaned in and kissed me.

The moment his lips touched mine I could taste the stench on him, thick and pungent and vile. Like French kissing a rotten bag of garbage. He was _definitely_ evil, and I hadn't even noticed because his sin was the same as mine: lust. Damien was a pleasant face behind a rotting interior and suddenly I knew why he'd brought me here and why he was curious I wasn't unconscious.

"You know, that drink tasted kind of funny," I said, pretending to swoon. "Did you put something in it back there?"

"Yeah," he said, a flat, emotionless delivery, one made mostly for his own benefit, rather than mine. He'd said the same thing to other women, knowing they wouldn't remember. Which is why he had told me all the stuff he'd told me. "Why don't you lay down, you fucking little cock tease?"

Anger.

Anger surged through me, inexplicably strong. Of course, the roofie wouldn't affect me—demons were immune to any kind of poison, including booze or chemical intoxicants—and normally I wouldn't have minded, and even respected his audacity. I _was_ a demon, after all, and evil was in my blood. But Hell had already taken some of my memories, and getting duped by some mortal using lust against me, a succubus, made me see red. I was only in this bullshit because Asmodeus, that slimy little toad, wouldn't tell me even _basic_ things, things I needed to know. I was only on this boat to complete the mission. I was only on this realm because I didn't know what I had to do to go home, or what I'd done to get banished in the first place.

I was pissed. Full pissed. I gave Damien a rough shove in the chest. "Why don't _you_ lay down," I hissed, letting a little of my natural voice slip in to my tone. "Mortal."

"Mortal? What the fuck." Damien laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. Not one full of joy. It was nasty. "Man, that shit makes bitches say the most retarded things. Lesson for today: no more blondes. Dumber than a bag of hammers." Another laugh. "Okay, a'right, let's get those clothes off you so I can see what I've got here..."

More anger.

I knew I should have ignored him. Just dived overboard and swam for it. Or maybe punched him, stolen his boat and taken it for a joyride. Or even gone along with it. I should have done a million different things but I didn't.

Instead, I focused on my essence, the blood in my veins, and I shifted. My bones creaked. The skin on my back stretched and two stubs grew out of my shoulder blades, forming a pair of ten-feet-wide wings. My teeth grew, canines growing razor sharp. A pair of inch-long horns slid out of my forehead, sharp and ready. My fingers and toes became razor edged claws, shredding my sneakers. My clothes fell apart into tattered rags.

Damien shrieked something unintelligible, his hands balled into fists that he pressed to his temple. The delightful terror in his eyes was a pleasure all its own and his face distorted into a wild, panicked knot.

Not done yet. I unfurled my wings, stretching muscles I hadn't used in too long, wingtips brushing against the bulkheads of the yacht. "Like what you see, mmm?" I asked, using my real voice—so much deeper and full of dark promise—echoing slightly as though in a spacious cave. I hopped into the air, wings beating casually and scraping against the walls, hovering a foot or so off the ground. "You wanted me to get my clothes off. Here I am."

"T-This isn't happening!" Damien closed his eyes, shaking his head violently. He staggered back, out the door of the superstructure and out onto the deck. "No...no, no, no!"

I drifted toward him, flashing my best shark-smile. "So you like to pick up chicks, huh?" I asked, nimbly snatching him by the shoulder, digging into his flesh and pulling him off his feet. "An ironic turn of phrase. Poetry, really."

He started punching at me, kicking wildly, but even a fit, strong human could barely hurt me. I rolled my eyes, flapped my wings, and took off toward the night sky.

"Stop, stop!" Damien struggled below me. I ignored his wiggling, lifting him up, up past the bamboo trees that lined the water's edge, away from the yacht, following the Hudson River as I climbed.

"You crazy bitch!" he shrieked, holding onto my foot for all he was worth. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm flying hundreds of metres above the Hudson River," I said, flatly. It felt good to fly...finally. Up and up I climbed, gaining altitude with every flap. The cars on the nearby road got smaller. The boats became little white and grey dots on the water.

"Grace, Grace, Grace!—okay, listen—" He clung to me, both trying to pull my claws out of his shoulder and also hang on to me tightly. W-what do you want? You want money? We have money. We have lots of money! We even—we even have kidnap insurance. Literal—literal insurance. Twenty million bucks. Twenty million! We can give you whatever you want!"

"Can you bring me back to Hell?" I hissed, shaking him violently, my claws tearing his flesh.

Damien shrieked in pain. "Let me go!"

I smiled down at him, showing my fangs, the glow from my red eyes lighting up his face. "Okay," I said, and I dropped him.

11

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It Was The Raccoons

__

_Hudson River_

I LET GO OF DAMIEN about two kilometres above the Hudson River.

He didn't scream as he plummeted through the night sky. Just kind of...tumbled, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish. Over and over like a human pinwheel, falling until he hit the water with a splash too distant to hear, barely a dot on the waters of the Hudson.

At the speed he went in it was like hitting concrete. Damien's body would be intact from this height, but I knew all his bones were broken and organs mashed to pulp. His twitching, broken body sank below the waves.

Tiny drops of blood fell from my claws. The rage inside me slowly died down to a bitter simmer and, slowly, the realisation of what I'd done sank in.

I'd just killed Damien.

Killing mortals was a huge problem. Angels and demons weren't supposed to interfere with the mortal realm, the nephilim—a neutral people who could adopt the form of giants—forbade it. Both sides, Heaven and Hell, did all the time, of course. The only rule was: don't get caught.

Fortunately this wasn't as big a problem as it might have seemed. I internally spun a narrative for what might happen. How the media might report it. A drunk teenager crashed his boat and drowned in the Hudson. Pretty simple story. And I had time...human bodies only floated when they were long dead and full of gas. His corpse would be gone for a while. Plenty of time to make the arrangements, get the hell back to my safe house and away from the scene. Nobody would suspect me.

I hoped.

Pondering what that nasty motherfucker would look like blown up like a balloon, and looking forward toward visiting his damned soul in Hell, I flapped my wings and drifted down toward the _Cythera_. It was so pretty, so expensive, it seemed like a waste; but I knew I had to get rid of it.

I went back into the yacht's superstructure, down the stairs to the lower levels. Two rows of bunk beds and a floor freezer-fridge combination. Freezing water could expand and break the hull, but...there was no time for that. Instead, I decided to go for an entirely demonic approach; I put my fist through the hull.

Freezing cold water sprayed into the inside of the yacht, the pressure knocking me back off my feet. I spluttered inanely, wings crumpled and splayed, as a jet of water gushed into the hull. The yacht began to list downward almost immediately.

Shit. I hadn't expected it to be so violent. I spat out a mouthful of water and struggled to the staircase, using my strength to fight the power of the torrent. The railing twisted as I pulled myself out of the hull of _Cythera_ , onto a deck which was pitching at almost thirty degrees.

The ship was sinking. I spread my wings and took flight again, zipping over to the shore, landing in the mud of the shore. The lights of the nearby houses cast long shadows through the trees.

If any of the humans had seen me, they'd given no sign. I focused myself inward once more, shifting my body back to Tatanya's image. My clothes were mostly torn off and ruined, but my hoodie had largely survived the transformation, apart from where my wings had shredded the back. I was soaking wet from the boat but I'd be fine.

"Grace?" came a voice from nearby, so close it made me jump. Gabe stepped out of the tree line. He had his shirt off and was a long way away from Damien's house. "What are you doing here?"

"Just...having a swim," I said, putting on my best dumb smile. That stupid guy...

"In your clothes?" he asked, sceptically.

"I didn't go swimming _in my clothes_ ," I said, somewhat more angrily than I needed to. "They just...got wet after I put them back on."

"Trying on a new fashion trend?" asked Gabe, pointing to my hoodie. "That thing's ruined."

"A raccoon ate it," I lied. "It, uhh, attacked my stuff while I was skinny dipping. Before I...put my clothes back on, of course."

Gabe considered a moment. "So you...went to Damien's boat. Took off your clothes. Dove into the water. Put your clothes back on. Then...a raccoon ate your clothes _that were on the boat_ , then you put the torn clothes back on and swam to the shore." His eyes fell to my feet. "And what happened to your shoes?"

"Damn raccoons," I said, turning to face him properly. "They steal everything."

"Mmm hmm. And I suppose," said Gabe, nonchalantly, "that a raccoon ate your wings as well?"

I kept my face an expressionless, stupefied mask. "What wings?"

"Your wings. The wings you can extend and retract into your body. I saw you fly to the shore. You looked _real_ different."

I laughed, waving my hand dismissively. "You've had too much to drink, Gabe. I don't have wings. See?" I turned my shoulders a bit, showing him. Showing him the two holes in my hoodie where my wings had burst from. Damn...not smart.

He didn't answer. Not right away. Just stared at me, intently, with a gaze that was at once angry and sad. Ice and fire. Steel and powder. "Where is Damien?" he asked.

"Last time I saw him," I said, smirking slightly, "I think he was falling for me."

"Well," said Gabe, "I have to talk to him. I saw you two get on the boat. I heard a splash. Now I see you here."

"He's dead," I said, flatly, not seeing a reason to lie at all.

Gabe's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," I said. "From the height I dropped him, there's no way he's walking that off."

"Wait." For a moment, Gabe seemed terribly confused, holding up his hand and squinting in disbelief. "You _killed_ him?"

"Yeah."

Gabe swore softly under his breath, cupping his mouth with his hand as though to stifle the noise. He looked away, then back at me, studying me intently. "Are you a nephilim?"

The name itself made me feel cold. "No," I said, trying to study his face in the dim light. "Are...you?"

"Of course not," said Gabe. Nephilim couldn't lie, so that was a relief. "I'm here to talk to Damien Anderson. He's in great danger. A demon from the pit was sent to seduce him, and I was forced to destroy it."

Jessica. Gabe had taken out Jessica. But...Asmodeus had said that a celestial had destroyed the other succubus.

The two of us stood there for a brief moment. "You're not from the pit, are you?" I asked, cautiously.

"No," said Gabe. Which left only one place he _could_ be from.

12

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Safe as Houses

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_Bank of the Hudson River_

MY CLAWS EXTENDED. SLOWLY. CAREFULLY. I didn't want to tip him off. Celestials were powerful; they had flaming weapons and strong fists. I just had to get close enough to tear his throat out. One moment was all it would take; one quick action and—

"So...what _are_ you?" asked Gabe, considering me. "I know you're not from the pit. You're obviously not from Heaven, yet you're extraplanar."

Out, out came my claws, slowly and gently, hoping he wouldn't notice. I folded my hands behind my back. "How do you know I'm not from the pit?"

"I didn't sense any evil in you," said Gabe. "And we kissed—technically—so that makes sense. But I didn't sense any good, either. I thought you were just...you know. Indecisive. Neutral. But only mortals and nephilim taste that way. And mortals don't have wings." He scratched the side of his head. "But nephilim can't lie. So what are you?"

Huh. Angels had the same power we did. That I did _not_ expect. Celestials kept their powers closely guarded, as did demons. "It doesn't matter right now," I said. "Let's just go our separate ways and pretend nobody saw anything, okay?"

"I think it matters," said Gabe, scowling. "If you really did kill Damien, then you've probably caused enough fuss for the nephilim to get involved, and if they are, I don't want to mess with one of their agents."

That was fair to me. "You're right. The nephilim are likely on their way. We should move."

Gabe obviously wanted to talk to me more, but the nephilim's single concern was to prevent both Heaven and Hell from interfering with the mortal realm. They would punish him too if they caught him. "We should head to my safe house," he said, "and wait for this all to blow over."

Ooooh no. No no no no no no _no_. I wasn't going to some celestial's den. "Whoa. Hey, just because I played Lewinsky with you _once_ doesn't mean I trust you, okay?"

"I know," he said, stepping toward me. "Look, we don't have time for this. Do you have a better idea?"

"Come to _my_ safe house," I said. It would be better to fight him there. Asmodeus would be there to help. Or, at least, throw things and distract him. Plus it was an apartment block. He'd want to hold back.

"Fine," said Gabe with palpable reluctance overridden by his obvious concern. "Lead on."

I felt even _less_ comfortable about walking ahead of him, but I had no choice. I let my claws sink back into my body and, reluctantly, headed off back toward New Jersey. Toward the apartment block. Asmodeus would no doubt be super happy to hear that I'd gotten what I needed, and the story of Damien's body splashing down into the Hudson would probably make him pretty happy. Sadistic little shit.

On the way, though, I felt...vaguely nauseous. I'd killed a man with a full-on angelic being in the immediate vicinity. Not even Lucifer could pull off something like that; and if he turned on me, I was fucked. Normally taking out a celestial took a small group of high ranking, powerful pit lords, or a small army.

Sometimes being brave was simply not knowing the true extent of the danger until it had passed.

It took us almost two hours to walk to the apartment block following my phone's GPS. I didn't know the way and Gabe, for some insane reason, didn't know either and didn't have any kind of electronic device. Which was...weird.

Finally, we ended up back at the dank alleyway with the fire escape where Asmodeus had let me in the building. I still hadn't gone in through the front yet; next time, I promised myself.

"Okay," I said, pushing open the fire exit door. "Room 313."

"I should wait here," said Gabe, suddenly looking a little nervous. "Probably for the best."

"Hell no," I said, grabbing him by the collar and glaring at his face. "You're coming in with me. No way I'm going to let you just run off and report my location to your masters."

He brushed off my hand. "I promise that I won't," he said. "And you know that means something coming from me."

I had to begrudgingly accept that. Celestials were pieces of shit in many ways, but they didn't lie. Not like we did. Weirdos. "Fine," I said, wheeling back to the fire escape and yanking open the door so hard the hinges creaked. I was reminded how shitty this building was. "Okay, this way."

Stomping my feet with every step, I trudged up the stairs to the third floor, to room 313. The door was closed. "Home sweet," I said, pushing open the door. "Home."

Asmodeus was buzzing around the main living room like a mad hornet, his hands on his ears, seemingly having four conversations at once.

"Yeah, I know," he said, his voice high pitched and stressed. "Look, I don't know. Yes. Yes. Okay. I'm on it. No, trust me, I'm on it. I'm going to fix this. Don't stress. Yes? Of course. Right. No. Okay. Twenty minutes, no more. Maybe ten. Hey, fuck off. I'm working on it. No—"

"Hi," I said.

I could have thrown a grenade into the room and gotten a smaller reaction. Asmodeus's head snapped toward me, voice cutting out. "She's here," he said, taking his hands off his ears. He buzzed over to me, hovering a few feet in front of my face. "What. The. Fuck. Happened."

"Demon!" hissed Gabe. He snapped his fingers, a flaming pistol appearing in his hands, the weapon glowing with holy light. He levelled it at Asmodeus.

Oh shit.

13

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****

Fucking Up

__

_Asmodeus's Safe House_

_New Jersey_

ASMODEUS HISSED LIKE A FERAL cat, brandishing his tiny claws, his snake-like tail whipping back and forth, looking for all the world like a predator about to pounce.

Gabe coolly drew up his pistol, bright yellow holy flames licking from the barrel as he pulled back the cocking handle.

"Lucifer's Teeth," I said, stepping between the two of them. "Stop. Both of you."

"Who is this?" hissed Asmodeus. "He has a flaming weapon. A celestial?"

"He was at the party," I said, trying to diffuse the situation. "It wasn't deliberate. We were worried about nephilim—"

" _You're_ worried about the nephilim?" Asmodeus snarled viciously. "You understand what this means to me? My ears are full of the pit—I have ten thousand fucking voices all screaming at me in unison trying to sort this shit out. I swear, the whole fucking realm is pissed. They're _all_ watching."

"What do you mean? I did what you asked, I got the information. How did I fuck up?"

"I don't know, you tell me! Everyone's talking at once and I can't make out the details. Honestly don't think they know either, and—" Asmodeus swished his tail angrily, staring daggers at Gabe. "Put that fucking thing away, glowboy."

Gabe kept his pistol lined up at Asmodeus. "Demon of the pit," he intoned, his voice deep and righteous. "Traitor to Heaven and betrayer of men. I hereby sentence you to—"

I swatted his pistol away, glaring at him. "Stop. Idiot." I pointed at the gun. "Away."

Gabe hesitated then, very slowly and carefully, re-holstered the weapon behind his back.

Asmodeus buzzed over to Gabe, hovering above him, leering down like some kind of angry boss. "You. What the fuck happened?"

"Ask her."

"What happened is simple," I said. "At the party, I killed Damien."

The imp spluttered. "You killed Damien?!" Asmodeus stared at me with a mixture of anger and shock. "You fucking iced him?"

"She killed Damien," said Gabe, somewhat unhelpfully.

Silence. For a moment I thought Asmodeus might explode. His whole body turned an angry purple-red and shook like a psychotic little winged mouse. "So that's fucking it. You fucking killed a mortal. Just like that. Bam! And then you brought a celestial into a Hellish safe house. I...you—and I can't believe I have to say this again— _you killed a mortal_. What part of reconnaissance do you not understand, you dumb bitch? I told you to blend in!"

"He tried to drug me," I said, folding my arms defensively. "He was evil."

"So?" Asmodeus's whole face turned a bright shade of violent purple and flames poured from his hands. "DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER WHO YOU WORK FOR?!" His voice roared from his tiny throat, shaking the walls of my apartment. "You're a _demon!_ Evil is what you _do!_ It's what you _are!_ "

"So," said Gabe, glaring at me with a dark, judgemental scowl. "You _are_ from the pit."

"Surprise." I waggled my fingers teasingly. "Getting your lollipop licked by a demon ain't so bad, is it?"

Rather than being angry with my teasing, Gabe seemed more confused than anything. "But...like you said. Licking. I _know_ you aren't evil."

"Babe, I'm from Hell. Literal Hell. I promise you, I am evil."

"But I sensed—"

"Shh!" Asmodeus put his fingers back up to his ears, squinting as he listened intently to some voice neither of us could hear. Silence reigned.

"Maybe we should abandon the safe house," I said. "You know. Lay low for a while."

A brief moment of silence.

"Probably," admitted Gabe, touching the bridge of his nose. "Oh my God...what a disaster."

Asmodeus's communication seemed to end. Hissing angrily, he buzzed around in front of my face, snapping his fingers in a furious blur. "Hey, are you two loco in the coco? We can't run from this."

I swatted at him. "What the fuck's a coco?"

"Never mind that—look." Asmodeus rubbed his temples furiously, little wisps of smoke trailing up from his fingertips, drifting up like little claws. "The big guy is getting interested in this. Okay? I have it from a good source that he's looking into it _personally_."

"The big guy?" Aww, crap. My boss in the pit; a huge, brutish bully. "I don't want Azazel to come here. Dammit, fuck!"

"No, you bimbo! It's not Azazel!" He glared at me with eyes that were pure flame. "The... _big_ guy."

"Surely you can't mean..." My brain shut down. "The Morning Star? Lucifer?"

"Yeah! Him!" Asmodeus whimpered as though in pain. "Turns out you really fucked up—you really fucked up bad!"

"Oh shit," said Gabe, turning to me, ashen faced. "You really fucked up bad."

14

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Fucking Up Bad

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_Asmodeus's Safe House_

_New Jersey_

MY STOMACH FELT LIKE IT had dropped all the way back to Hell and left me behind on the mortal realm. This was much worse than the nephilim; if _they_ got involved, they were cold, emotionless robots but they were rational. They could be talked to. Reasoned with.

But the big guy? Lucifer himself, first of the fallen angels? Not so much.

"I've never met him," I said, trying hard to keep the fear out of my voice. "I don't know anyone who has. I mean, I _saw_ him a few times, always from a huge distance, but..."

"I haven't either," said Asmodeus, a similar tremble in his tone. "But Jessica once told me, you know, that he was really tall up close. And I mean _really_ tall. He's a monster. Built like a giant, with horns and teeth and fists and...no, no. This is not good."

"Jessica?" Gabe hesitated, his eyes flicking between us. "Wait, do you mean the succubus that was supposed to be at the party?"

"Yeah," said Asmodeus. "Some shitty celestial took her out, and..." his voice trailed off, eyes focusing on Gabe, suspicion creeping into his voice. "And I don't mean to dinner."

Awkward silence.

"Sorry about that," said Gabe, shrugging. "It was her or me. I couldn't let her get close to Damien." He shot me an annoyed look. "Turns out I shouldn't have let _you_ get near him either. Just...for a different reason."

"Nice," spat Asmodeus, bitterly. "You killed my friend, you bastard."

I squinted at him. "Was she _really_ your friend? You didn't seem too upset when you told me she got killed before."

"Shut the fuck up!" hissed Asmodeus, then turned back to Gabe. "Murderous bastard!"

"Foul waste of air," said Gabe, hand drifting back around to his back where his pistol was.

Asmodeus stuck out his tongue. "I know you are, you said you are, but what am I?"

We didn't have time for this. "Ladies, ladies. You argue like you're on Reddit. You're both pretty, okay? Sheesh." I took a breath, trying to steady myself. "Anyway. Whatever. We need to find a way to fix this."

Both of them fell into their thoughts. Gabe ran his hand through his hair, and Asmodeus drifted around my head rubbing his chin.

"I just can't believe this," whined Asmodeus. "Lucifer himself. Getting involved over a single dead mortal? It's...it's mind boggling."

"Are you always so easily boggled?" snipped Gabe. I glared at him and he shut the hell up again.

Asmodeus put his head in his tiny hands. "Wanna know a fun fact? _Desperation_ is an anagram for _a rope ends it_. I want you to know this. I want you to know how I'm feeling right at this very second."

"That fact," said Gabe, "was not very fun."

Asmodeus managed a little smile. "Man, speaking of fun...remember that time the whole of Hawaii thought they were going to get nuked because of a false missile alarm? That was me. All me. Oh, I laughed for days. All their fucking little faces." His voice became high pitched and squeaky. "Oh, oh, we're fucked, we're so totally fucked! Ahh! The norks are dropping the big one! Duck and cover, duck and cover!"

Gabe didn't smile. "A lot of people believed they were about to die in nuclear fire. It wasn't funny."

"It was _crazy_ funny," Asmodeus's smile widened. "All that fear...all those people crying on Facebook and Instagram, talking about how they were going to be burned to a crisp, texting their crushes and telling them they loved them. Beautiful."

A spike of anger surged through me. It was becoming obvious that if we didn't do something soon, Asmodeus and Gabe would just sit here sniping at each other until one of them snapped and started a fight. We had to get the hell out of here. We had to—

A faint chime rang through the room, three soft notes like a doorbell.

I looked at Asmodeus. "Are you expecting someone?"

"Nope." Asmodeus looked at Gabe. "Are _you_ expecting someone?"

"Nope," said Gabe, turning finally to me. "We should get out of here."

"There's only one way in and out," said Asmodeus, worriedly wringing his hands together. "The door. Unless we can climb out of the window..."

The doorbell chimed again, a little more insistent this time, and I grit my teeth. "I'll stall them," I said, jerking my thumb toward the window. "Get out. I'll give you as long as I can."

Gabe nodded firmly. "Meet back at Damien's house," he said, and then he turned to the window. "See you soon."

"Yeah," I said, with absolutely no conviction in my voice at all.

The bell rang again and I knew I had no more time.

15

****

****

The Nephilim

__

_Asmodeus's Safe House_

_New Jersey_

I STEADIED MY NERVES AND, once the window closed behind Asmodeus and Gabe, I pulled open the door.

A woman stood on the other side of the door, wearing a perfectly tailored three piece suit complete with bowler hat and clipboard held comfortably in both hands. She had dark hair cropped into a perfectly neat bob, tanned skin and a face completely symmetrical, almost to the point of being unnerving. She seemed like she was made out of plastic, as though she'd been sculpted out of clay and then animated through some arcane process.

"Lady Grace?" she asked, formally tipping her hat. Her lips didn't move as much as they should have. "My name is Juliet-Tango-Delta-Five-Eight-Eight. I represent the Nephilim Establishment. I am here to ask you some questions about a recent incident."

"Alright," I said, leaning comfortably up against the doorframe. "Mind if I call you Juliet?"

"You may address me however you wish. It is irrelevant to the matter at hand."

Time. I needed to stall for time. "Well, names are important," I said, firmly. "JT, then? Or maybe Eight-Eight? Your full name is just a very big mouthful, that's all, and being a succubus I know a _lot_ about mouthfuls, _if you know what I mean_."

The nephilim stared blankly at me.

"It's a joke," I said, slightly defensively. "Relax."

"The nephilim have no sense of humour that we are currently aware of." She turned the clipboard toward me. "This is a brief summary of the charges laid against you."

Oh boy, paperwork. "I'm a slow reader," I said, scanning the paperwork slowly and carefully. But as I did so, the words rearranged themselves, forming a simple language version of the previously complicated document.

_1x MASQUERADE VIOLATION_

_1x MURDER (Mortal)_

_1x UNAUTHORISED SURFACE EXPLORATION_

__

_(reading this text indicates a full and _

_proper understanding of the charges laid against you)_

"Having read the charges and acknowledged a full and proper understanding of the charges laid against you," said Juliet, "I am hereby advising you of your punishment."

"Punishment, huh?" I said, giving a lopsided, teasing smile. "What is it? Whips and chains? A rough spanking?"

Juliet paused, adjusted her bowler's hat, then continued. "You will be destroyed and your spiritual essence committed to the diaspora."

Well, that wasn't what I want to happen at all. I tried to keep my whole body relaxed. Gabe and Asmodeus needed time to get away. "Okay," I said, slowly. "How soon will this happen? I'd like to appeal this decision."

"The sentence will be rendered as soon as the appropriate documentation is filled out and signed," said Juliet. "And, unfortunately, all avenues of appeal have already been exhausted on your behalf."

Lovely. Stall. I needed to stall. "Okay," I said, cautiously. "I understand this. However, my concern is for the mortal realm at this point. How will this incident be handled?"

The nephilim gently folded her arms. "Our agents have damaged the boat further to make your crude deception seem more plausible. The official record will show that a submerged floating shipping container sank the _Cythera_. We have also affected the body so that its wounds more accurately represent the kinds of injuries a boating accident would inflict."

_Affected?_ I decided not to ask too many questions. "Right," I said. "And, uhh...what about Gabe? And Asmodeus?"

"Lord Asmodeus will be issued a written warning, as will Lord Gabriel. We will not be warning either of them again. It is the opinion of the Nephilim Establishment that your destruction should serve as sufficient warning to both parties and ensure their further compliance and discretion."

"Oh," I said, my brain drawing a blank on more topics to discuss. "That's...great. And uhh—"

"Sign the document," she said, holding out a black, simple, cheap ball-point pen.

I took it, slowly and carefully, making like I was going to sign. "Actually—"

"Sign," said Juliet, insistently.

"I was hoping to discuss this like rational—"

"The time for discussion is over." Juliet unfolded her arms, fingers crackling with electricity. "Sign or prepare to face oblivion."

With a sigh, I slipped the pen into my pocket. "Oblivion isn't really my jam," I said, smiling sheepishly and moving to close the door. "Thank you, come again some other time—"

Juliet put her fist through the wooden door, splintering it into hunks of wood. The crackle of electricity followed the intense smell of burning oak.

Shit.

I turned and ran toward the window, feet pumping on the plush carpet. Behind me, Juliet pulled the door right off its hinges, breaking the thing into splinters and stepping into the foyer.

I shielded my face and crashed bodily into the glass, smashing it and falling through, into the air, surrounded by long shards of falling glass.

Wings. I needed my wings. I put all my focus onto my wings—feeling my bones creak and stretch, tiny little nubs growing out from my back...faster, faster, faster—

The ground rushed up toward me. I strained, extending my tiny, shrivelled wings out as far as they could, urging them to grow as fast as they could. The pavement grew closer...

Just in time, I swooped and pulled up, barely a foot above the ground, my toes bumping and scraping against the ground. I climbed, pulling up into a hover, turning back toward the broken window.

Juliet ran toward me, jumping into the air just as I'd done. Which was dumb, because nephilim couldn't fly.

Her legs extended, becoming massive springs. She landed on the ground and bounced, hands extended out to me, fingers crackling with power.

Shit! I swerved, dodging out of the way barely in time. Juliet sailed onward, landing on the pavement again, crouching and pressing her hands together. A bolt of lightning jumped from her fingertips and splashed into me, burning my skin. A thunder crack echoed around me. My wings trembled, jerked, and stopped working.

I began to fall again, but this time I was ready. I snagged a streetlight, swinging around it and crashing heavily to the ground. Juliet began striding toward me, her massive legs giving her an impossible advantage.

Escape. I needed a way out...

I'd fallen on something metal. Not concrete. It was a JCMUA Sewer manhole cover. Jamming my fingers into the holes, I flung it at Juliet, then rolled into the reeking sewer.

16

****

****

A Shitty Escape Plan

__

_Sewer Network_

_New Jersey_

I CRASHED INTO THE SEWER, landing with a _splash_ in some stinking, rancid water.

The sewers were a lot smaller than I was expecting. Maybe it was just a district thing, but the tunnel I'd fallen into was barely big enough for me to crawl through and was full of water that came up to my chest.

At least I was really, really, really hopeful it was water.

Knowing that Juliet was only seconds behind me, I wiggled around onto my hands and knees and began sloshing through the pipe, keeping my head as high as I could so the... _water_...could not get in. Above and behind me, Juliet scrambled down the pipe, chasing me into the sewer hole.

But falling down had given me an advantage. She had to climb. I did not.

I came to a junction and, hands scrambling over the slime covered tube, turned left. The sloshing continued unabated. Another junction. Left. More sloshing. Even closer this time.

Another junction. I shrugged off my torn and ruined hoodie, tossed it into the left hand pipe, then half crawled, half swam into the one on the right.

Water picked up behind me, pushing me onward. I no longer had to crawl. Instead, I found myself fighting the tide, trying to avoid being sucked down with the rushing water. My fingers dug into the sides of the sewer pipe. I extended my claws, scratching thick jagged lines down the length of it, dragging me helplessly along. Lucifer's Teeth, it stank.

The pipe emptied into drop. I tumbled down the miniature waterfall into a much larger pipe, sinking into the water. Closing my eyes and holding my breath, I kicked and thrashed until, finally, my head broke the surface.

It wasn't that deep. At least I could stand. I did so, keeping my lips pressed together and hoping none of the stuff had gotten into my mouth. I sunk my claws back into my body, hoping I wouldn't need them right away again.

Completely lost, but at least fairly confident Juliet wasn't behind me anymore, I sloshed through the larger sewer pipe, until the water got shallower. Up to my ankles. I took random turns and bypassing ladder after ladder, hoping to further shake off any pursuit, until I felt brave enough to head up.

I scaled the ladder, then pushed up the manhole cover. The sun was coming up, and the pre-dawn light had cast Jersey City in a pale hue, washing out all the colours, street lights still providing most of the illumination.

Trying not to breathe through my nose, I clambered out of the sewer and, acting like it was totally natural of me, kicked the manhole cover back over the sewer and began my best attempt at a casual stroll down the street, each step leaving muddy footprints behind me.

Yeah. "Mud".

I knew I had to find Asmodeus and Gabe. The thought of the two of them being stuck together made me grumpy. Those two were cats and dogs. If one of them hadn't stabbed the other by the time I got there, it would be a miracle. If Juliet or some other nephilim didn't track me down and end me before I could, that would also be a miracle.

My survival hinged purely on luck.

Even at this un-Satanly hour in the morning there were joggers. Fat people trying to be thin, and thin people trying to be buffer. A woman with a little barking dog came power walking along the pavement. She held her nose as she passed me by. Fortunately being stinky meant people would avoid me. Hopefully.

As the minutes passed, I began to relax and my mind turned to how I was going to get to Damien's place. It was by the water, but...that was a lot of foreshore. I couldn't just wander aimlessly.

I passed joggers and dog walkers and jogging dog walkers, all of whom barely gave me the time of day, despite my caution. Morning people. Yeesh.

Finally, after what felt like far too long, the sun came up properly and my clothes finally dried out, even though the smell around me lingered. I saw no sign of Juliet, so I finally pulled out my phone, fired up the GPS, and followed the map toward Damien's house.

It was a long way to walk, especially smelling to high heaven, but I made it. As I got close, I could see Damien's place surrounded by cop cars, the front of the house bathed in strobing red and blue light. Wherever the rest of the party had gone, I had no idea, nor did I care.

This was a bad place to meet someone. Surrounded by cops. I hadn't expected to come back here ever.

I pulled up my texting app. I had a bunch of messages from Asmodeus.

_Hey, I'm here. Across the street._

_Hey. Hurry. Where are you?_

_Hey! There are a lot of fucking cops here!_

Okay, okay. I casually walked across the street to the house there, a similar building to Damien's house, probably built by the same company. It had an extensive lawn out the front and the whole property was ringed in a massive line of thirty foot tall trees. I pressed the doorbell.

A withered looking woman pulled open the door, smiling warmly as she saw me. "Well," she said, in a creaking, ancient voice. "You took your time."

Gabe, I presumed. It made sense that they could adopt different shapes like I could. But I needed to test him. "Hi," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "How did we meet?"

She—he?—smiled. "In a game of seven minutes of heaven," said Gabe, beckoning me inside. "Come on."

I was pretty sure it was him, but I just wanted to see him squirm a little. "And what did I do there?" I asked, deliberately injecting a little teasing into my tone.

The slightly nervous shuffle he made revealed that it was a disguise more than anything. "We played around," he said, an edge of his normal voice creeping into the ancient, grandmotherly air he was trying to project. "Come on in before someone sees you."

"I gotta be sure," I said, unable to keep a cheeky smile off my face. "Be _specific_."

"You sucked my dick," he mumbled.

Right. Well that was good enough for me. "I call it 'Climbing the Corporate Ladder'."

"Uh huh," said Gabe. "Truth in television, I guess." Felt good to make a celestial uncomfortable.

I stepped inside and Gabe closed the door, his grandmotherly form melting away and his normal appearance returning.

"You smell, by the way," he said, turning back to me. "What happened?"

"I literally crawled through a sewer," I said, scowling. "But I lost her. I think."

"Good." Gabe smiled sheepishly. "I still think you look great." He coughed, waving his hand in front of his nose. "Not _smell_ great, obviously."

"Yeah."

He smiled. "Anyway. Welcome to heaven's safe house. We have cable."

"We have a better wardrobe," I shot back.

He didn't seem to want to argue that point. "Anyway, I just want to check. You're okay, right?"

I don't know why, but him being concerned about me was actually kind of nice. "I'm fine," I said. A thought occurred. "Where's Asmodeus?"

"Here," he called from what I presumed to be the kitchen. "But hey, you should come check this out. We got a problem."

17

****

****

And Then Things Got Worse

__

_Heaven's safe house_

_Near Damien's Place_

_New Jersey_

I FOLLOWED THE SOUND OF Asmodeus's voice into the kitchen. He'd set up a small phone as a tiny TV, streaming from some web service. It was a news broadcast. Gabe came in behind me.

"...come to you live from New Jersey, where we are covering a series of confusing and strange events."

I leaned around Asmodeus, trying to see what the tiny screen was showing. Shaky footage of the night sky. For a brief moment, my winged form flew in front of the moon, dragging Damien's helpless body higher and higher.

"No wonder the nephilim are so pissed," said Gabe, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Cell phone cameras are everywhere these days."

"I'm well aware of that," I said. It was pretty frustrating to be caught out like this, which was in turn making me more angry. I should be able to keep a better control of myself. Why was I acting this way?

Was I _trying_ to impress Gabe? What the hell was the point of that? Even the thought fed into the negative cycle, and I felt my hands ball into fists at my sides.

"Well," Asmodeus mused, "there's no way we can get rid of that tape now. It's been over broadcast television, and the Internet never forgets. Fortunately it's pretty blurry. I'll talk to some of my contacts in the pit, see if we can spin this into something useful. You know, something like...it was all computer generated imagery, you know. A fake."

"Or a viral marketing move for a new movie," said Gabe, leaning in a little bit. "That could definitely work. We just need to pump out some kind of shitty shovelware mobile app focused around bats abducting people and say it was part of that. Good idea."

Lying? Gabe was suggesting we _lie?_ I cracked a big smile. "That doesn't sound very much like Heaven's way to me," I said, teasing him.

"It's his idea," said Gabe, frowning at the little imp.

"Please," said Asmodeus, waving his hand modestly. "You give me too little credit."

Still, the notion gave Gabe obvious cause for pause. "I wouldn't normally suggest something like this if there was any other way," he said, sombrely. "Heaven tends to agree. We aren't in the business of manipulation and deceit as a general rule, but with the nephilim involved, we have no choice. Preservation of the masquerade must come before all other concerns. Humanity are not yet ready to know the full, true extent of their reality."

"He's right you know," said Asmodeus, sticking out his tongue in disgust. "Even though it's fucking terrible to even consider agreeing with someone like _him_ , human beings suck."

We all sat there in relative silence for a moment, watching the screen play the same recording over and over. That was a relief to me. If they had more footage, more conclusive evidence, they would play it too. This was no 9/11. No Charlottesville Car Attack. The media didn't know what to do with the scraps they had, but the idea that they might look for more was worrying.

"Okay," I said. "I stink like _literal_ shit, so I'm going to have a shower."

Asmodeus flashed a leery smirk. "You should take him with you," he said, jerking his thumb toward Gabe. "Let off a little steam, you know?"

That was actually a really good idea. "Saving water is noble," I said, playfully resting a hand on my filthy hip. "And I'm pretty sure a house this fancy has a little more than seven minutes of hot water..."

Gabe's flustered stammering was actually almost adorable in a way. His whole face turned several shades redder and he fumbled idly with a stray string on his shirt. "Uhh, well, I'm pretty sure my bosses wouldn't like me doing that."

I snorted and shrugged. "You think _I'm_ going to tell them?"

That didn't seem to sway him at all. "They'll know," he said, looking genuinely to be tempted by my offer.

"Oh, right," I said, nodding politely. "Right. Because they're always watching and all that. Hey, that's totally fine with me, baby. If heaven gets their motor running that way, I am not about to kink-shame them at _all_. Some of the Hellish orgies I've been part of are much more public than that." I couldn't help but smile, thinking of all those pleasant memories. "You know, they keep succubi and incubi separate from each other in Hell, just to make sure we at least _try_ to do some work, but I mean, succubi can turn into guys too, sooo...it doesn't really help much."

Asmodeus snickered like a hyperactive cat. "I hear really intriguing things from those orgies," he said. "Like—"

Gabe held up a hand. "I'm good," he said, firmly. "No need to overshare."

It was really cute seeing him get all flustered. "Yeah," I said, reaching out and grabbing his hand in mine and gripping it tightly. "No more words. C'mon. Let's go get cleaned up...and then get all messy again."

18

****

****

Scrub-a-dub-dub

__

_Heaven's safe house_

_Near Damien's Place_

_New Jersey_

I HALF LED, HALF DRAGGED the bewildered, stammering Gabe into the house, toward what I presumed would be the master bedroom. He didn't really say much, and I could tell that—despite my obviously dirty condition and the deep philosophical divide between us—he was kind of into me.

Maybe not quite as much as I'd liked, as sexual power over others was the hallmark of succubi and incubi, but I had something.

The master bedroom had, as I predicted, an en suite. Its own private shower and bathroom, tiled in blue and off to one side. There was heaps of room, with a fancy vanity and more than enough room for two people to stand in the shower in comfort. I pulled Gabe straight in the room. Ooo, heated floor tiles.

He slid his hand out of mine. "Okay," he said, flushed beet red. "Now...we're here. In the shower. We did it."

Now I could see his hand was messy too. I just glanced at it, letting his eyes follow mine.

"You really are filthy," he said, wiping his hand off on his shirt disdainfully.

"Boy, you don't know the half of it," I said, flashing some teeth. "You heaven types seem to be voyeurs, maybe I can share some of the details. You ever had _six_ guys fuck you at the same time?" I giggled teasingly, almost unable to help myself. "I mean, you probably can't even imagine where they all _fit_ , right? Well, they're _super_ creative..."

"I bet they are. Look, I'll just wait outside while you get cleaned up, okay?"

I smiled to him over my shoulder, showing off my butt. "I thought I was pretty clear that I didn't want that," I said, reaching up under my torn, ragged, mud-splattered hoodie and pulling it over my head. "I kind of wanted you to stay."

"Is...that what you want?" asked Gabe. I removed the hoodie and tossed it aside; he had his gaze averted, even though I still had my shirt on, even though I still had my back faced toward him. "I'm just not sure if it's what _you_ wanna do, or what the pit wants you to do, given who... _what_...I am."

It was a pretty valid concern, to be honest, and had our situations been reversed it would probably be the first question I would be asking. I wasn't sure why it frustrated me so much—maybe I just hadn't been properly laid in a while and all the talk of Hellish orgies had got me fired up—but I really wanted him to step into that shower with me.

"I already swallowed your baloney pony," I said, demurely hooking my fingers under my top and pulling it up and off me as well. "Do you think that doing more stuff with me will...somehow make things any worse than they already are for you, in the eyes of Heaven?"

Gabe stared at me, incredulously, and I was glad I finally got him to look. "Swallowing the baloney..." He shook his head, seemingly barely able to suppress a little laugh. "Did you just make that up? Do you have a list of those euphemisms hidden somewhere?"

"You're deflecting," I said, unhooking my bra and tossing it playfully over my back. "What? Don't want your, you know...Heaven buddies watching you nail a succubus in the shower?"

"I...I don't think I do," said Gabe, squirming visibly.

"Oh," I said, wiggling my fingers into my jeans and giving them a little tug downward. I felt Juliet's pen in the back pocket as they descended. "I just assumed that's how they would know. I'm just not sure how you're okay with a whole bunch of angels and creepy Cherubs watching you get off."

"That's not how it works," said Gabe, obviously becoming more flustered as he talked. "I...they just _know_. They don't literally _watch_."

"So it's totally okay for you to come in and shower with me, because the only ones here are going to be us?"

He didn't seem to have an answer to that.

I slid my jeans down past my ankles, bending over as I did so. I could _feel_ his eyes on me; feel that he wanted me, even though he knew he had to say no. My nature was as a temptress. This was what I was _meant_ to do.

I straightened up, kicked off my panties, and then slowly turned around.

Yeah, he was definitely staring at my full frontal nudity. It was trashy as fuck but I loved it.

"I spent some time in Australia," I said, grinning widely, my hands on my hips. "There, they call a woman's crotch her 'Map of Tasmania'."

Gabe stuttered nervously.

"Eh," I said, "you have to have lived there to get it I guess."

"Or understand basic Australian geography," said Gabe.

I waited, just a little bit, to see if he would give in, but he didn't. He was obviously sorely tempted; he stood there, wringing his hands and barely looking at me, and I knew I'd planted the seed of future temptations.

Carefully, I reached in and turned on the tap. "You _do_ have spare clothes, though, right?" I asked, stepping into the shower. The hot water billowed into steam around me, fogging up the glass, and the filth and grime splattered onto my body.

"Yeah," said Gabe, retreating backward out of the bathroom. "I'll go get you some."

"Giving me some _would_ be nice," I teased, right as he closed the door.

The warm water felt good over my skin. I scrubbed my arms, legs, and body, running my hands through my hair, straining out the brown grime and watching it circle around the drain. I lathered on some soap, washed it off, then applied another round. My nose tingled and finally the stink began to reside. Gabe passed a clean set of clothes through a crack in the door, still unable to look at me. I was able to provoke that level of embarrassment while I was covered in literal sewer water. I wonder what I could accomplish when I was clean?

I couldn't help but smile. Things were actually looking up.

Then the whole room started to shake, gently at first, then more intensely. The soap fell off the holder and onto the floor. The water shook. The glass rattled.

Louder.

19

****

****

Shaking Things Up

__

_Heaven's safe house_

_Near Damien's Place_

_New Jersey_

AN EARTHQUAKE? I WASN'T SURE if they were common in New Jersey. Maybe they were.

I shut off the shower. The rumbling faded, quiet returning to the neighbourhood, with nothing but the dripping water around me and the distant noise of police sirens.

Asmodeus fluttered into the shower. "What the fuck was that?" he asked, frowning at me. "What did you do?"

"Me?" That question made no sense. "I'm not the queen of earthquakes. I didn't make that happen."

He hesitated for a moment, as though trying to discern if what I was saying was the truth or not, but then he shrugged it off. "Probably just an earthquake," he said, with a suspicious lack of conviction.

"What else do you think it could be?" I asked, opening up the shower and stepping out, grabbing a towel. "Do you think it's something to worry about?"

"No," said Asmodeus, then seemingly revised his position. "And yes. You think it's a coincidence that this happened, right as the nephilim got involved?"

I towelled off my hair. "I don't really know much about them," I said. "Knowledge is for imps. Seduction and influence is for succubi. They are not my area of expertise."

Asmodeus reluctantly beat his wings, floating over and settling on the edge of the sink. "Nephilim means _giant_ ," he said, "they're a race of beings devoted to preserving the balance on the mortal realm. They can shift their form, or part thereof, in size; becoming tiny as a fingernail, or big as a house, or bigger." He groaned. "They are...not stupid, but they aren't very clever either. They have a very simplistic view of the world."

"Sounds familiar," I said, glancing to the door.

"Yeah."

I ran the towel over my body then tossed it away in frustration. I couldn't help but shake a dark feeling in my gut. "Did...did I really fuck everything up?" I asked, simply.

Asmodeus narrowed his red little eyes at me. For a moment, I thought he was going to be blunt and angry, but instead, he seemed to relax. "Eh. If you hadn't killed Damien he was likely fucked anyway. He's third generation rich and his parents had never instilled in him a respect for money and an understanding of investments, returns, and finance. His understanding of money was limited to 'it never runs out'. You know what they say... _the first generation sows it, the second generation grows it, and the third generation blows it._ In all likelihood he would have died poor and bitter and alone."

Convincing, but not quite. "Still," I said.

"Look. The truth is. You _did_ fuck up. Quite a lot. No shit, right? But he was drugging chicks at parties, and the sooner he came to visit us in the dark, hot place, the sooner we'd be able to have a little fun with him. Right? And the point is...we can fix it. We can fix this. We can fix all of this. And, you know, you can work on your anger issues some other time."

It wasn't really anger issues I didn't think. Okay. I had to admit that _maybe_ I was impulsive, even reckless, and I probably had some problems controlling my temper when I felt manipulated. I was a demon, sure, but I could admit that much. Reluctantly.

Before I could say more, the ground shook again. Asmodeus and I exchanged a cautious look.

"Okay," said Asmodeus, holding up his hands. "Maybe we can't fix this."

"Feels like it's getting closer," I said, touching the glass. It shook slightly against my hand. "We should consider getting out of here."

"Get dressed," said Asmodeus, urgency filling his tiny voice. "Quick. Quick!"

I snatched up the bundle of clothes, socks spilling onto the wet tiled floor. I pulled up the set of short pants—I wonder why Gabe had picked these?—and jammed on a t-shirt. There was a new hoodie, a replacement one in my size. I pulled it on too. It was black and had inscribed upon it in white letters, _Daddy's Little Angel_.

Despite another distant thump growing worrying closer, I couldn't help but snort at that.

"Hurry!" hissed Asmodeus, throwing a toothbrush at me. "What the fuck are you staring at your own tits for?"

That was a good point. I grabbed the dirty pair of jeans, thrust my hand into the back pocket, and withdrew Juliet's pen. It still stank, but there was no time to do anything about it. Holding the messy thing I ran out of the bathroom.

Gabe was waiting for me on the other side, his flaming pistol held comfortably in both hands. "Let's go," he said, and together the three of us bolted out of the master bedroom, Asmodeus buzzing ahead of us.

A colossal foot descended down through the ceiling, crushing the room we had just left, blasting the walls into splintered wood panels and broken bricks.

"Whelp," said Asmodeus, despondently. "This is why we can't have nice things." Then, with a shimmer of dark energy, he vanished into smoke, leaving a smouldering imp-sized pentagram underneath where he had been flying.

If only I, too, could helliport out of this place.

"Come on!" shouted Gabe, this time grabbing my hand instead and dragging me through the front door.

Towering over the house, a version of Juliet, standing almost as tall as the ring of trees around the property—which neatly shielded her from public view—stood with one foot through the roof of Gabe's safe house, staring down at us with eyes that crackled like twin orbs of electricity.

"So much for the masquerade violation," I said, staring up at the giant person above me.

20

****

****

Surprise Meetings

__

_Outside Heaven's safe house_

_Near Damien's Place_

_New Jersey_

A MASSIVE VERSION OF JULIET the nephilim looked down at me. I looked up at her. Her face was bathed in the blue and red light of the police cars across the road.

For a brief moment, everyone stood in shocked silence. I risked a glance at Damien's house; at the cars parked outside. The officers within were slumped over the wheel, or passed out on the lawn out front. All asleep.

Had they been killed? Had the nephilim killed them? That seemed not possible, but there it was. They were just lying there.

"Lady Grace," boomed Juliet, shifting her foot inside the building, causing the structure to crumble even further. "There is no need for further hostilities. Come with me, face your termination, and all this incident will be put to rest. A charge of theft will be added to your record, and then this disturbance is over."

"Theft?" I scowled at her. "I didn't steal jack shit."

With a colossal finger, Juliet pointed at the pen in my hand. I threw it angrily to the ground. "There!"

"The charge of theft will be removed," said Juliet. "But the other charges remain. Submit to destruction."

There was no way I was doing that. "I don't even want to be here!" I shot back, waving a fist at her. It seemed a hopelessly impotent gesture but I was angry. "I didn't _choose_ to come to the mortal realm. I didn't _choose_ to go to that party."

"But in regard to the dead mortal, you did choose," said Juliet, her voice thundering way, way too loud. "Nothing in your mission mandate included murder."

"He was a dick," I said.

"He was definitely a dick," said Gabe. Wow. Supporting a demon against a fully battle-ready nephilim. He must _really_ want me. My "secretarial duties" game must be even more lit than I thought.

"His behaviour is of no consequence to the Nephilim Establishment. All mortals, no matter their temperament, are protected beings. His sins are to be punished in the afterlife, not here. Not now. Impatience cannot be tolerated."

Impatience wasn't why I'd done it, but fine. Fine. I let the words slide. "Well, I'm not going with you." On this I was sure. "So if you're thinking you're going to be taking me by force, or killing me here, then you're sorely mistaken."

"Hey," whispered Gabe, worriedly. "Maybe now's _not_ the best time to be offering the gigantic enforcer of interplanar law a _give-me-freedom-or-give-me-death_ ultimatum, you know?" He turned back to Juliet. "I'm sorry, Lady Juliet-Tango-Delta-Five-Eight-Eight. She doesn't know what she's saying."

I twisted around, raising a curious eyebrow at that. I never told Gabe her name. "You know this... _thing_?"

"Mmm hmm," he said, nodding slowly. "We...have met."

Met.

_Met_.

I laughed. I actually, genuinely laughed. "You fucked her? You fucked... _her_?"

Gabe shuffled uncomfortably, bouncing his pistol in his grip. "It's a very long story," he said. "Nephilim don't really date, so...it's complicated."

"Not really," I said. "Demons don't really date either."

Gabe didn't really have an answer to that. I followed his gaze back up to Juliet. "Right."

The nephilim, Gabe's ex apparently, just stood there, waiting for us to finish. So polite.

"So," boomed Juliet, "Lord Gabriel of Heaven, let this be your formal warning; a verdict has been rendered against Lady Grace, and her punishment has been clearly communicated to her. Are you prepared to assist us in the dispensation of this, our justice?"

"If you want to destroy someone for killing a rapist who drugged innocent people, then I feel that this is not justice. I will not assist you."

There was a brief moment of silence. Juliet was probably communicating with some agency I could not see or hear, just as Asmodeus was able to do. Both angels and nephilim had more in common with us than we liked to admit...and the same was likely true of them. We were all spun of extraplanar matter, subject to many of the same limitations and benefits.

It seemed, however, that the Nephilim Establishment were slower talkers than the pit. Probably a committee on the other end.

"Then," boomed Juliet, finally. "You shall join her in death."

21

****

****

Stomp, Stomp, Stomp

__

_Outside Heaven's safe house_

_Near Damien's Place_

_New Jersey_

WELL...SHIT. NOW GABE WAS going to die as well.

Juliet began to move, lurching forward in a distinctly animatronic monster, her fists crackling with energy. I'd seen the strength of her hands when she was the same size as me; I couldn't imagine what kind of power would be behind them when she was as tall as she was.

Instinctively, I took a step back down the driveway, then another, and another until I was standing beside the letter box. Which was useless. We couldn't run forever. I focused internally, shifting my form, letting my claws slide out of my body, horns growing out of my forehead. I made sure to keep my wings inside, though. No need to ruin another hoodie just yet.

Gabe, however, seemed to have another idea. He leapt back, broad wings bursting from his back and shredding his shirt, leaping into the air and aligning his pistol to Juliet. "Don't make me do it," he said, in a loud, firm shout. "I don't want to harm you."

Juliet continued her advance. I knew how this would go; Gabe's flaming weapon would probably hurt her, or at least he felt confident that it would, but someone would need to keep her busy on the ground. Give her a target to focus on.

Guess who.

I stepped forward, growling angrily, letting my natural voice slip out. "Come on then, you stupid robot," I hissed, brandishing my sharp claws in front of me. "I'm going to steal your man just like I stole your fucking pen."

Juliet said nothing, stomping toward me, raising her other foot as though to squish me flat.

"Is this really a good time for that?" asked Gabe, incredulously. "You stole her... _pen_?"

"Shoot her!" I shouted. Lucifer's Teeth. "Stop worrying about the damn pen and shoot her!"

Juliet's foot came down. I leapt to one side, rolling on the grass as the massive foot—Monty Python style—smashed into the letter box, splintering it to a billion pieces. I sprung back up to my feet, then leapt forward at the foot, both hands leading the way. I sank my fingers up to the palm into her ankle, the sharp tips sliding into her plastic-looking fake skin far too easily.

"Gabe!" I yelled over my shoulder. "Now!"

He hesitated, pointing the pistol at Juliet, wings beating gently in the air.

Juliet raised her foot again, and I hung on, my claws tearing long jagged strips in whatever passed for her skin. She tried to shake me off.

_Bam!_ Gabe fired, a yellow-white holy streak of fire slamming into Juliet's chest. _Bam! Bam! Bam!_

They all hit. Juliet staggered backward, slamming her foot back into the ground, the impact throwing me off. This time I was much less prepared and went sprawling on the ground. Dammit. I had only just gotten clean...

"I warned you," shouted Gabe. "Let this be a warning to you; abandon this unjust pursuit, Juliet-Tango-Delta-Five-Eight-Eight!"

"Call her Juliet!" I leapt back up, claws out in front of me. They were slick in a black, oily substance which I assumed to be nephilim blood...or whatever they had that passed for blood and came out of them when they were injured.

"I will crush you both," intoned Juliet, advancing toward me once more.

Gabe unloaded, blasting her from above with a volley of shots that struck her face, chest, arms and shoulders. His weapon seemed to have an infinite ammunition supply; it was shaped, perhaps, like a pistol to simply assist in disguising it. Over and over he shot, each round splashing into her, spraying black blood in all directions.

I crouched, coiling my legs, then leapt into the air, springing off her knee and up to her abdomen. I dug my claws in deep, letting my weight carry myself down, raking my thick claws down her body and tearing it open like an overripe fruit.

Juliet slumped back, falling heavily onto the roof of the safe house, crashing through it and ruining any chance that the building could be repaired, crumpling it into ruin. Her feet stuck out from the house's ruined walls. From within the house, a burst gas line ignited, and angry orange flames leapt up from the building's walls.

She didn't get up.

"I think we got her," I said, barely able to believe it.

Gabe shook his head, landing down beside me and folding his wings in against his body. "Nephilim regenerate their bodies," he said. "They feel pain and they don't like it, but they can recover from almost any form of injury."

Slowly, as I watched, her feet began to shrink down. She was shifting to be our size.

"Now's our chance," I said, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. "Take your shirt off."

Gabe stared at me. "This is not the time—"

"Because it's _ripped_ , you dickhead," I said, giving him an angry stare.

"Oh, right. The wings." With a single motion, he tore it right off his body, revealing his bare, muscled chest.

Aww, nice. But I didn't have any time to linger on it. "C'mon," I said. "Let's get the fuck out of here before any more cops arrive."

22

****

****

Better Part of Valour

_Liberty State Park_

_New Jersey_

DISCRETION WAS DEFINITELY THE BETTER part of valour. The two of us legged it, sprinting away from that cluster-fuck as fast as we could go. Fortunately Gabe was able to keep up with me. Maybe he was thinking the same thing.

I knew Juliet couldn't chase us in her giant form. Heaven had obviously picked that safe house because of the tall trees, but they obviously hadn't anticipated being attacked by nephilim.

Made sense.

A jogger lay passed out on the footpath, their nose bloodied but otherwise okay. Gabriel touched her neck, obvious relief coming across his face in an instant. "She's alive."

The cops back outside Damien's place had been unconscious too. "I'm guessing the nephilim didn't want anyone to be spotted," I said.

Sirens began to wail in the distance. Whatever had happened to the cops back there, and to this jogger right here, we didn't have time to figure out. We kept moving.

After about twenty minutes we came to a small park. The sun was up and people were about, but since our clothes were clean and undamaged—except Gabe being forced into being bare-chested which, you know, I was totally okay with—we actually managed to blend in fairly well.

"Well," said Gabe, the first words we'd shared since the jogger, "that went well."

I knew he was being sarcastic but I actually felt it was true. "Honestly, that was pretty sick," I said, letting the corner of my mouth turn up. "You actually fought pretty well for a feather-brain. That moment when she went all _fee-fi-fo-fum_ and tried to crush me, and you shot her right in the centre of mass? Beautiful. Basically poetry."

"Feather-brain," said Gabe, sceptically.

I stuck out my tongue.

Finally, after a brief moment seemingly resisting the notion, Gabe smiled too. "I guess," he said. He was actually really muscled with his shirt off. How much of his appearance was an affectation? An attempt to try and blend in, be inconspicuous, fly below the radar?

Thoughts for another day.

"So," I said, grinning a bit. "What's it like to fuck a nephilim?" I gave him a playful nudge in the side with my elbow. "Was she better at kneeling at the altar than I was?"

"That mental image's just terrible for someone like me," said Gabe, but the amused smile grew on his face, too. "And...like I said. It wasn't like that. We just hung out and stuff."

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?" I considered. "Butt stuff?"

His eyes went wide. "No! Nothing like that."

I struggled to stifle a giggle. "Okay, it was definitely butt stuff."

"It was... _not_...butt stuff."

"Oh, so you were saving that for me, huh," I said, grinning teasingly.

Almost churlishly, Gabe shook his head. "You're assuming I haven't done butt stuff before."

I let out a mock gasp. "Oh, well, now you have to tell me," I said, elbowing furiously. "Tell! Tell!"

He laughed. I laughed. It was mostly the laughter of people who had survived a battle. At once hysterical, relieved, amused, joyous. People kind of stared, but we ignored them. They were morning people anyway. Only people by the technical definition of the term.

"Okay," I said, when we had both gotten our breath back. "So...Asmodeus bailed on us, which I'm sure you're not surprised by in the least. But you stayed."

"I did," he said, but then nodded to me. "You stayed, as well."

I didn't want to share that I couldn't helliport. I wasn't sure exactly _why_ , but I think he was secretly glad that I'd stuck around. More surprisingly, so was I. "She pissed me off," was all I could say.

Gabe smiled knowingly. "Also," he said, "you said you were going to steal her man. I'm guessing you were talking about me."

"That was as much making fun of you as it was of her," I said, suddenly a little uncomfortable. "Don't read too much into it, feather-brain."

"Okay," he said. "Horn head."

I rolled my eyes but, also, couldn't help but smile. I looked at Gabe.

He looked back at me.

There was a strange moment. A little hesitation. Something inside me spoke up. That I should lean forward and kiss him, right in the middle of the park. It came from a strange place in me; normally kissing someone was useful for knowing if they were evil, or to try and seduce them, but...at that particular moment, I knew the answer to any question I could reasonably ask, and as my little bit in the shower had shown, he was plenty seduced already.

And yet, I still wanted to do it.

Something had happened between us. Some unspoken connection had been made that I couldn't really explain.

"I should head back to the clouds," said Gabe, coughing politely and breaking the spell. "And...pick up a new shirt, I suppose."

Probably. That was the smart call. He could teleport—heaven-port just simply didn't have the same ring to it—and it might be a good idea to get some information. At the very least, he could get dressed properly. "Okay," I said, a little reluctantly. "Go for it. I'll find a place to lay low for a little while. See if Asmodeus, that snivelling little worm, decides to crawl up out of the ground and re-join us."

"Sounds good," said Gabe. He gestured to the nearby public toilet. I knew he couldn't be seen teleporting in public, so together we walked over to the gents.

"Good luck," I said, nodding firmly. "Text me when you get back."

Gabe gave me a little playful salute, stepping into the concrete structure. My sharp ears heard the faint creak of an opening door. Then nothing.

I shook myself. What the hell was wrong with me, all of a sudden? I'd gotten all...weird...around Gabe. Staring at him. Trying to kiss him unnecessarily. Not wanting to disembowel him for being a horribly warped, twisted creature of the light.

When I got back to Hell, I was going to fuck the hell out of the first demon I came across. And the next. And the next. I was going to get the biggest, most nasty, spiked strap-on from my collection and I was going to bend some mortals over a flaming spire of basalt. I was going to have so much sex. Get it out of my system.

That must be what was wrong with me...pent up sexual frustration. Common problem amongst succubi and incubi. Totally normal. Nothing to worry about.

Maybe I wouldn't wait that long. There were plenty of mortals in this city, and plenty more who would love to take me for a spin. I could get laid right now if I wanted to. Right in this very park. In this very toilet block. The next guy who came out of there, I would fuck his brains out.

Yeah. It was time. I turned to the exit of the men's, waiting for my prey. The very next guy...

Was Gabe.

He came out, his eyes wide and confused. For a moment he almost didn't see me there, even though I was right in front of the entrance. He looked like he had been smacked in the head with a hammer. Confused.

"What the fuck happened?" I asked, careful to keep my voice down. "You're supposed to be...gone."

"I tried," said Gabe, sounding dazed. "But it didn't work." He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose in confusion. "I think I'm banished."

23

****

****

For Heaven's Sake

_Liberty State Park_

_New Jersey_

GABE LOOKED LIKE HE HAD lost his favourite puppy.

I took his hand and guided him over to a wooden bench nestled in underneath a tall tree. He didn't resist in any way. Just kind of stumbled along beside me. I sat him down, then slid in beside him, resting my hand on his knee.

"Hey," I said. "You sure?"

He didn't answer me. Just kind of stared off into the distance. "This has never happened to me before," he said, a hollow emptiness to his voice.

I tried to be funny. "I've literally _never_ had a guy say that to me before," I said, giving him a teasing little elbow in the side. "So...this is a first for both of us."

He didn't laugh. He didn't even manage a smile. "This is a disaster."

Right at that moment, I actually felt a bit sorry for him. It was a strange, alien feeling that demons were not supposed to feel, but it came from a genuine place. "You'll be fine," I said, trying to put a positive spin on things. "There's a lot of reasons why your helliport—or whatever you celestial-types use—didn't work. Maybe the gatekeepers just decided to keep you away. Maybe that toilet smells too much for the Heavenly choir. Maybe..."

"Maybe," echoed Gabe.

"Just try not to worry." I put my hand on his knee. "Look. If it helps, I can't even helliport back to Hell, either. I should have told you earlier but I know..." I trailed off. He wasn't listening.

"Banished from Heaven." Gabe just ran his hands through his hair, his voice tightening. "This hasn't happened since the Morning Star. Am I going to become the next Lucifer?"

"Maybe you can move in with me," I said, kind of mostly joking, mostly. "Living in Hell is good for you it. It builds character." I snickered. "Assuming that character is paranoid, violent and sadistic of course."

He still didn't laugh. "This just can't be happening. I don't believe it. If it wasn't biologically impossible for angels to have a stroke, I'd be checking if I smelled toast." Finally, finally he managed to look at me. "Isn't Hell kind of...evil?"

"History is written by the winners. Guess who wrote Heaven's history. Wasn't us. So of course you think it's evil. And...truth be told, it is. But I like to think of us as the mortal realm's garbage disposal. It's a shitty job, nobody wants to do it, and we certainly aren't too happy with what we get up to—but our job is very important, and in that respect, we're proud of what we do. Besides, we have the best parties. What's Heaven got...a bunch of robed guys sitting around praising goodness or something."

Finally, the ghost of a smile began to find its way to Gabe's face. "We do like robes," he said, shaking his head.

"There we go," I said, squeezing Gabe's knee firmly. "And hey. If you really do end up in the pit, don't worry. It's easy to find your way there. It's like an _all-roads-lead-to-Rome_ situation."

"Sure," said Gabe. "But I just want to say, the fact that there's a stairway to Heaven and a highway to Hell says a lot about expected traffic volume."

"And," I said, letting my voice get all teasing again. "We'd have all the time in the world to go charming the snake. Or...whatever else sexy stuff you wanted to do."

"I'm just waiting for you to run out of euphemisms," he said. "I'm sure it'll happen eventually."

"Eventually," I conceded.

We sat there a little while, in quiet, my hand on his knee, leaning up against each other. It was actually real nice. The wind picked up and the sounds of the city bustled all around us. It was almost enough to make one forget that we had committed a major infraction of interplanetary law and were being hunted by ancient, semi-sentient constructs who wanted to dispassionately wipe us out. And Gabe had been kicked out of the only home he'd ever known.

Then again, so had I, and at least he still had his memories. Still. Maybe that actually made it easier for me.

I couldn't clearly remember what I'd lost.

A pop nearby made us both jump. For a moment, adrenaline surged through my body and my fight-or-flight reflex kicked in. Surely the nephilim wouldn't attack us in an open park in broad daylight...surely not.

Instead, it was Asmodeus's voice that came to me. "Hey, fuckers." He had appeared underneath the seat, hiding between the gaps in the wooden planks. "Good to see you're still alive, Grace."

"No thanks to you," I hissed, casually reaching down and poking him through the gap. "You fucking left me."

"Them's the breaks, babe," he said, kicking at my finger angrily. "No sense us both dying. But hey! Turns out you didn't need me at all."

"Right," I said, grumpily rubbing Gabe's knee. "Look, if you don't want to stick around when we get into trouble, how about you just fuck off and don't come back, okay? I don't need you making shitty little quips and vanishing every time there's a _little wee_ giant destroying our safe house."

Asmodeus hissed at me. "Hey, you stupid bitch, you think I _want_ to be here?" He grumbled. "Maybe I _should_ just leave."

I almost said more things to him, but then I realised. Asmodeus had, in fact, come back. "Okay," I said. "Why _are_ you here?"

"Firstly, I didn't return from the pit empty handed. I got a little something for you given your current...problems."

That might be useful. I hoped. "Secondly?"

"Have you forgotten?" asked Asmodeus, rolling his eyes. "I told you I'd tell you why you got kicked out of Hell if you got the information from Damien. Whatever _else_ you did, you did earn that."

Of course. I had almost completely forgotten. "Tell me," I hissed.

"Not here," said Asmodeus, risking popping his head up above the gap, looking around worriedly. "This is too exposed."

I pushed his head back down into the gap. "Okay," I said. "Where?"

24

****

****

The Contact

_Liberty State Park_

_New Jersey_

ASMODEUS CRAWLED UNDER MY HOODIE, and I made sure to keep it pulled up around my head. He led us out of the park and inland, past the Liberty Science Centre and into Communipaw.

Gabe didn't say much and dragged his feet as he walked, which was wherever we took him. Rather than talk to him, I just grabbed his hand and guided him wherever Asmodeus instructed. Taking orders from an imp pissed me off, but this was no time to worry about the inter-pit hierarchy.

The green of the park was soon replaced by the suburban grid. We walked through Bergen, then to the campus of New Jersey City University. Asmodeus spooled out earbuds for my phone and stuck them in my ears, under my hoodie but visible coming out from behind my bangs. No music played through them, but I understood their purpose. This way I could talk to him as we walked, all without looking like a pair of crazy people.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, feeling a rising spike in anxiety. This place was full of students. The risk of us getting discovered was pretty high. "This was a dumb plan."

"This is a smart plan," said Asmodeus, firmly. "Listen. I had a bit to think while you guys were fighting and running for your lives. The nephilim want to preserve the masquerade, right? Well, that means that hiding out in the suburbs is a really dumb idea. We don't want remote, private. We want exposed, public. There's a guy here who owes me a favour. I can lean on him for a little help. He'll give us lodgings, food, and he won't fuck with us. Room 3474, Frost Hall. It's new."

"Frost Hall," I said, nodding in understanding, but not too much. I didn't want to knock him off. "Okay."

Without any other option—I dared not ask for help, lest I attract attention to myself—I wandered the NJCU campus with my head down, trying to spot the residential colleges. Finally, I came upon an area on the west of campus that looked like some kind of residential area. A big red building, three stories tall, with a central foyer made of tall floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked very fancy. There were shitloads of students milling out the front, some glued to their phones, others chatting in small groups.

"This the place?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Asmodeus. "I had our contact meet us out the front. Should be around. Try to spot 'em."

Oh, great. "How about a little hint?" I asked, grinding my teeth. "You know. Name. Gender. Appearance."

Before he could answer, I heard a familiar voice. "Grace? Gabe?"

Emily. The girl from spin the bottle. "Hi," I said, grimacing slightly to myself despite my best efforts to keep it under control. "How're you doing?"

She shifted her posture, casually reaching up and touching her hair. "I didn't realise you were a student," she said, smiling shyly.

I didn't want to say I wasn't, so I spun a quick lie. "I wasn't then, but I'm...I've signed up. I'm a student now."

That seemed to make he really happy. "How're you doing, Gabe?" she asked, her eyes briefly flicking to our held hands.

"He's lost his voice," I said, frantically trying to cover for him. "Real sick. Like, super bad. He's got the cold from Hell."

"Ooh, that sucks," said Emily, her posture changing again, becoming more defensive, folding her arms in front of her. The smile remained on her face. "You two are together now, huh?"

"Yup," I said, giving Gabe's hand a firm squeeze. "Turns out blowing a guy in a cupboard can work out for you."

Emily flushed in a way that was honestly pretty cute. "I probably should have done that," she said, her tone joking, but there was an air of hesitance that made me smirk internally. "It seemed to work out for you..."

"If you wanna be with Bulldozer," I said, "you just gotta show him you like him. Women and men are different...what works on one usually won't work on the other, although exceptions exist of course. But dragging him into a cupboard for a little bit of snake charming will do the trick I think."

"Okay," she said, smiling nervously.

"If you need a little help," I said, simply unable to help myself. "I can show you a few kissing tips...and not just on the lips if you know what I mean. With a little practice you'll be a pro."

Emily gave a slightly-too-loud, nervous laugh that betrayed her interest.

Anyway, enough playing with my food. "So," I said, trying to put the mental image of Emily naked out of my head. Tantalising and intriguing for lots of different reasons, but...distracting. "We gotta get back to Hell, and we need a safe place to hang out until we can do that."

Emily stared at me blankly. "To...Hell?"

"You idiot," hissed Asmodeus into my ear. "That's not our contact!"

Then why didn't he say something earlier? Dammit. Blasted imp...

"Uhh," I said, trying to salvage this. "It's...uhh, my place. In Hell's Kitchen. I like to call it Hell."

Emily scrunched up her face. "Oookay. Well, uhh...why do you need a safe space?"

"Stalker," I said, frantically spinning a story in my head. "I've picked myself up a stalker. Some girl who's following me. And Gabe. She's, uhh...she's nuts. So I'm just trying to shake her."

"Oh my god," said Emily. Her eyes went wide. "You should call the cops."

"No cops," I insisted, then changed my tone to be more gentle. "No cops. I don't think they can necessarily help me in this case, and..." I tugged Gabe closer. "I have Gabe to protect me."

"That's true," said Emily, seeming a little more relieved. "Anyway, uhh, I have to head to my economics class. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

I gave her a little wave. "For sure."

She waved back then, looking fondly over her shoulder, walked away.

Angrily, I reached up and grabbed Asmodeus through my hood. "You fucking little rat," I said, squeezing him and digging my nails in. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"It was funny?" he said, coughing in pain. "Anyway, uhh, there's the contact."

He pulled my ear, turning my head, and then I saw her.

Laila.

25

****

****

3474

_New Jersey City University Campus_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

OH BOY.

LAILA, THE SELF-righteous girl from spin the bottle. That game had totally changed my life and more than ruined my week. I wasn't exactly glad to see her.

"Hi," said Laila, folding her hands in front of her, nervously. "I guess you're the people from... _out of town_?"

Interesting euphemism. "You could say that," I said, nodding my head. My hoodie lifted slightly so Asmodeus could look out.

Laila's eyes went wide as saucers, looking directly at him. "Oh my God. It's a demon. It's a real, real, real demon."

"Keep your voice down," I hissed, stepping closer to her and dragging Gabe up to her as well. "Room 3474. You need to take us there. _Now_."

With shaking hands, Laila pointed to the glass doorway. I felt like the middle link in a weird Human Centipede-esque chain of hands, being led by Laila and in turn leading Gabe. In we went, past crowds of milling students and toward the lift.

We rode up in silence. I cast a worrying look to Gabe. He hadn't said anything for a while. Just followed wherever I dragged him.

"Hey," I said, giving his hand a firm shake. "You okay?"

He nodded to me, but didn't say a word.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Laila, a slight tremble in her voice.

"Nothing," I spat, a surge of anger rushing through me. Lucifer's Teeth, what a cow. "Just keep your fucking bitch eyes on the door, okay?"

"Don't kill this one too," said Asmodeus, cautiously, into my ear. Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't. I was annoyed but not nearly as furious as I'd been with Damien.

"Sorry," I said, grumbling. "I'm...cranky. I wanna know what you know."

"Soon," he promised.

Fortunately the lift doors opened and I didn't need to continue with this annoying line of questioning. Laila, Gabe and I walked out of the lift, down the corridor, until we got to a room labelled 3474.

"This is my dorm," said Laila, swiping an electronic card. A mechanical _clunk_ echoed down the corridor. She pushed open the door with her shoulder. "Come on in."

"Thank you," said Gabe, meeting my eyes for a moment. Well, it was good to hear him speak, even a little. "I'll wait outside."

"That's for the best," said Asmodeus. I wasn't sure that was true but I wanted to hear what he had to say, something he wouldn't want to do if there was a celestial in the same room as him.

"We won't be long," I said, then stepped inside.

The dorm room was a narrow, cramped space with a single bed, a chipboard wooden desk with a lamp, and a set of drawers that was tall and narrow, and a small steel sink right behind the door.

With no further ado, I flopped down onto Laila's bed. Asmodeus fluttered out of my hoodie, landing on her desk. Laila sat on the floor looking sad.

"Okay," I said to Asmodeus, wishing Gabe was in here so I could give him a firm squeeze around the middle. "Go. Tell me. Why did I get my perfectly shaped butt kicked out of Hell?"

Asmodeus considered a moment, pursing his lips. "Remember when I said you were drunk?" he asked, cautiously.

"Yes," I said, "but that's not possible because demons can't get intoxicated or poisoned."

"Right, right," said Asmodeus, nodding in agreement. "And you weren't drunk or high or anything like that. You, however, _were_ drunk." He paused for effect. "On power."

That didn't make any sense to me at all. "Plenty of demons let their nature go to their head," I said, gently gripping some of the bed sheet and scrunching it in my hands. "Pretty sure you don't get banned from Hell for that. In fact I think we kind of like it."

"Right," said Asmodeus, clicking his tiny tongue a few times like a weird little bird noise. "But most of the arrogant demons in the pit don't try to kill Lucifer."

I snorted with laughter. "Yeah, _right_. Like I could do _that_."

Asmodeus didn't laugh. He just looked at me stoically. "Obviously," he said, gesturing to me. "That's why you're here. There's only one Lord of the Pit, baby. And he doesn't play well with others."

Insane. The whole thing was insane. I tried to wrap my head around it. "Okay," I said, cautiously. "Fine. Let's go with this for now. But...why can't I remember things?"

"Helliporting takes mental energy," said Asmodeus, as though he were explaining the concept to a child. "The Morning Star put you in the only place you were allowed to be. He didn't want you coming back and taking him out, so he reached into your mind and cut out the bit that allowed you to plane shift. That's why you had that nasty burn on your face when you woke up. Of course, it looks like he scooped out a bunch of memories, too. Probably didn't mean to do that."

"Wow," said Laila. "I've always believed in magic, even when the Bible said it wasn't true." She seemed to get more excited as she talked, but... _magic_? Who had said anything about that? "Or maybe not magic. Luck at least. My cat, Lucky...he was a black cat. He got hit by a car, and when we buried him under a tree, that night there was a storm and the tree got struck by lightning."

"More likely," said Asmodeus, frustration creeping into his voice, "you left the shovel out and the metal attracted the lightning strike."

Laila stammered slightly. "B-but you're a demon. From the Bible. You can't hurt me...I pray to God. I follow scripture."

The very topic seemed to piss Asmodeus off. "You follow _scripture_? Listen, lady, there are ten thousand active religions in the world, and you think we're going to pick and choose based on what essentially amounts to people following the religion of the local area they were born into? No. The books are good, and if you use them or don't use them, either way is fine, but the simple rule is: if you're a good person, you go to the sky place. There's no harps and shit, but it's nice I guess. If you're a bad person, you go to the hot place. And I'm not talking about Arizona here. You dig?"

Laila nodded meekly and lowered her head. I wondered what she had done to end up lending Asmodeus a hand? She was Hell-bound anyway, what did she have to gain? Was Asmodeus lying to her, saying she might be able to buy her way out of a one-way ticket to the pit? Maybe.

No more time to think about it. I didn't pay her any more attention, putting whatever concern she had to the back of my mind. "Look, the point is," I said to Asmodeus, "there's just no way that I tried to kill Lucifer. Why would I even _do_ that?"

Asmodeus grimaced a little, his tiny little tail swaying around behind him. "Maybe the question you should ask yourself is," he said, "why is he so afraid that you might be able to?"

26

****

****

Betrayer of the Pit

_Room 3474, Frost Hall_

_New Jersey City University Campus_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

HUH. SO...APPARENTLY I HAD tried to kill Lucifer.

Attempting to murder your boss was a bad career move in Hell, just as it was on the mortal realm. But one thing didn't make sense to me. "Okay," I said, trying to keep my thoughts in order. "That's fine, I believe you. But...if that's the case, why were they giving me tasks to do? Why did they send me to Damien's house?"

"Because," said Asmodeus, "it's what we call in the biz a 'win-win'."

"Explain."

Asmodeus shifted, dangling his legs over the edge of Laila's desk. "If you went to Damien's house to complete the mission, one of a few things would happen. One: you complete the mission, retrieving the important information and proving your loyalty to Hell. Your memory could be returned to you piecemeal, your moves watched and examined, and you would, eventually, be able to retake your rightful place in the pit."

"Okay," I said. "Sounds good. That's kind of what I'm aiming for here."

"Or," said Asmodeus, his tone developing a slightly ominous edge to it, "the celestial who took out Jessica could take you out as well, solving the problem neatly. Great for Hell's PR department. Or you could take out the celestial, which basically circles back to outcome One. You proved your loyalty, usefulness, yada yada yada."

Yup, all of that made sense. "Or?"

"Or it's possible," said Asmodeus, his tone turning caustic. "You could have tried to get into Heaven." He nodded sagely. "They were worried you were going to defect. At which point, you know, hey. Another soldier in Heaven's army isn't a huge problem. Assuming they would even take you."

I laughed. "You're kidding. Me? I'm a fucking _succubus_."

"You're a succubus?" said Laila, confused. "Wow."

I waggled my fingers at her teasingly. "That's right. And just think...if you hadn't of passed when it was rightly your turn, it would have been _us_ in the Seven Minutes in Heaven."

She reflexively wiped her mouth. We had kissed that one time after all...she reflexively, almost as though to hide herself, pulled out her phone and stared at it. Her eyes widened.

"What's news?" I asked, curious.

Laila turned it around to show me. There were reports of a gas leak in one of the suburbs, right next to Damien's house. A scrolling report said that it had destroyed a house and incapacitated most of the street, including a few of Jersey City's finest officers. Everyone involved was expected to make a full recovery.

Obviously the nephilim put the whole suburb to sleep with some unknown power. Their agents in the civilian government were trying to keep the whole thing under wraps.

"So...you like Gabe?" asked Laila.

Oh, Lucifer's Teeth. Confident that I'd read enough I took my eyes off her phone and glared at her. "No."

"Is it really so far-fetched?" asked Asmodeus, his eyes flicking toward the door pointedly. "I mean...look at you. You're clinging to that lost, winged puppy like some kind of dolt-eyed mortal. Don't think I can't see it either; you're not manipulating him, or abusing him, or trying to get into his skull...you legitimately, on some level, _like_ him."

Anger flooded into me. I should have known, should have realised, that the only thing that could inspire such fury was the truth in Asmodeus's words, but at the time that didn't register with me. All I knew was that I was being accused of having... _feelings_. For an angel.

"Hey, fuck you," I spat, hopping up off the bed, hands twitching by my sides. "You take that back, you little shit."

Asmodeus snickered gleefully, hopping up onto the desk. "You can suck my quarter inch balls, because you know what I'm saying is true. You know it!"

"Is not," I said.

"Is too."

"Is _not!_ "

"Is _too!_ "

Laila stared between us, wide eyed and obviously disbelieving what she was seeing.

"Okay," said Asmodeus, smirking. "Prove it. _Prove_ you don't like him."

I threw my hands in the hair. "How do you expect me to do that?" I asked, hissing angrily. "You wanna take out my brain, have a peek?"

"Nah, babe," said Asmodeus, jabbing a tiny finger at Laila. "That one owes me a year's service. Have your little playboy bend her over that table and fuck her."

"W-wait," said Laila, raising a hand. "Um..."

"Shut it!" Asmodeus snarled at her, the sound suddenly deep and threatening. "You owe me, you little _rat_. You'll give me what I demand. You'll fuck who I want you to fuck. You'll bow and scrape and eat shit if I command you to." His face twisted darkly. "You know what the penalty will be if you do not."

Laila said nothing but lowered her eyes.

"Fine," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "Lucifer's Teeth, I'd actually like to see that. I don't care if feather-brain gets his rocks off to someone else. That's kinda hot really." And yet... _and yet_ there was some part of me that didn't want him to. The time I'd showered off in Heaven's safe house jumped back into my mind. If I couldn't get him to do what I wanted, then, then...it seemed unfair to have someone else just score the prize but not me, you know?

Or was that just a justification I was making for myself?

"Good." Asmodeus stood, grinning a shark smile to Laila. "Oh, come on now. It's not like it'll be the _first_ time you've done something like this."

"I-I know," she said, with obvious, palpable reluctance.

"Okay," I said, as confidently as I could manage. I didn't care. "Fine. Let's do this. Let's get Gabe's rocks off if that's what it'll take to prove to you that you're wrong about me."

Asmodeus pointed to the door. "Get Gabe in here. Make it happen."

Angrily—and far more angrily than I _should_ have been—I stomped over toward the door. It was stupid to be so upset. He was nothing to me. Just a pawn I was manipulating. A strong fighter, a source of knowledge, an unexpected ally I had duped into serving me with a simple sexual act. I was stringing him along to make him give me what I wanted, toying with him like a cat toys with an injured mouse.

So I kept telling myself.

I flung open the door. "Hey fucker!" I roared, barely able to keep the anger inside me in check. "Got a job for you, feather—"

He was gone.

"...brain?"

27

****

****

Taking Flight

_Room 3474, Frost Hall_

_New Jersey City University Campus_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

GABE WAS GONE.

I LOOKED down the corridor. Both sides. Nothing but a long, empty stretch full of doors and musty carpet stained with various...student things.

"Hey Gabe," I called. Nothing. "Gabe! Hey!"

Asmodeus buzzed up behind me, settling on my shoulder. "Where's that glowboy gone?" he whispered, fury in his tiny voice.

"I dunno," I said, gesturing out to the empty hallway. "I left him right here."

"Sure you did," said Asmodeus, but there was no venom in his voice. He knew it to be true.

My gut hurt suddenly, as though some great fear was building within me that I could not properly articulate. This just... _felt_ bad. Celestials were stupid and arrogant and dumb and also very not smart, but they were loyal. Basically mentally challenged puppies. We had told him to sit. To stay. He would sit and stay like a good boy.

Well, apparently not, since now there wasn't hide nor hair of him.

"Um," said Laila, cautiously, from within her dorm room. "Can I go now?"

"Stay here," hissed Asmodeus. Then he shuffled around on my shoulder. "We need to go find that idiot before he does something _really_ dumb like reveal himself to the stupid human idiots."

On this matter I couldn't agree more. "Let's go," I said, reaching up to my shoulder and pulling back my hoodie, letting Asmodeus climb inside again to hide himself.

I closed the door then headed out, slipping out through the fire escape and down the stairs. I felt Asmodeus scurrying around inside my hoodie, slipping the ear buds back into my ears.

"Where do you think he went?" he whispered angrily. "Do you think he's escaping? Trying to betray us, warn the nephilim?"

There was no way that he was doing this. "Not a chance. You think—" I almost said celestial out loud. "That he's the kind of guy who would do that, huh? They're loyal to a fault. There's just no way."

"Maybe he was taking a shit," snipped Asmodeus. "A big, glowing, holy shit literally reeking of high heaven."

"Pretty sure angels don't shit," I said, stepping out of the fire escape and out to the side of the dorm building. The air was cold; night was coming again, and with it, reduced visibility. I was just glad that I didn't need to sleep. Evil never rests, as they say.

I casually pulled out my phone and texted him.

_hey, where the fuck did u go?_

__

Almost immediately, I saw a reply coming back.

_I'm sorry, Grace. This is just something I have to do._

__

Oh boy. That was real helpful. Told me nothing at all. I angrily stabbed at the screen with my fingers, typing furiously.

_well the least u could have done was txt me_

A few seconds passed. Then,

_I know. I should have. I'm sorry. This is...this is driving me crazy. Mad. I feel lost._

Bah.

_deal wit it_

__

There was a delay. And then,

_Don't worry. I am. I'm dealing with this the only way I know how._

__

Well, now, that actually made me feel even more worried. I glanced around to make sure that nobody could see me. We were alone. There were drinking and singing students in the background, but I tuned them out as best I could. I needed to focus on Gabe.

_listen i know u are pissed off bc u got kicked out of your "house" but seriously gabe, this is no time to do something stupid af_

_tell me exactly what u are doing_

_now_

__

I tapped my foot on the ground, waiting for his reply. It took a while. Every passing second was like a little tiny drill boring into the side of my head. Worry for him was causing me a headache.

And the fact that I was worried about him made everything so, so, so much worse.

_I'm talking to the nephilim agent that's been tailing us. I'm going to offer myself to them as a willing sacrifice, and in exchange, they'll leave you alone. Forever._

_It's the only thing I can do to save you._

Aww fuck. Aww fuck!

"Oh wow," said Asmodeus, hanging onto the edge of my hoodie and leaning forward, reading the messages with a huge smile on his face. "Wow. Okay. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"What?" I said, looking at him as best I could. "What are you talking about?"

Asmodeus's smile was a mile wide. "That's a really neat trick," he said. "Even had me fucking fooled. I get it."

"Get what?" I asked, temper rising again.

"Okay, okay, okay." Asmodeus gave a faux-dramatic sigh. "You want me to say it? I'll say it." He cleared his throat. "You convinced Gabe that you have feelings for him so that he would go to the nephilim. It's a win-win for us! Either the nephilim accept him and then leave us alone, or they don't, and we can curry favour with the pit because we took out an angel. Just the two of us." He beamed like a bright light. "You're a genius."

Yeah. No. That wasn't going to happen.

_tell me were u are_

_i'm coming to get u_

28

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****

Wayward Bird

_New Jersey City University Campus_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

"NO," SAID ASMODEUS, IN A tone that booked little argument. "We are not going after him. No. No!"

I didn't pay him any attention, stomping through the NJCU campus, following the little blue arrow on my GPS.

"You need to turn back," hissed Asmodeus. "This isn't a smart idea. What are you _thinking_?"

"Will you shut up? You're..." I struggled to find a suitable insult. "You're more like...Ass-modeus. Like you're the demon of being a pain in the arse."

"Pain," said Asmodeus, tugging on my ear buds annoyingly, "is a signal that something is wrong." He snarled quietly, nestling further into my hoodie. "Okay, toots. Lemme ask you this. Why? Just...why? Are you doing it for him?"

I couldn't tell him the truth even if I wanted to, simply because I didn't know. "No."

"Then...for the humans?"

"No."

Asmodeus's fingernails scratched into my neck. "You sure?" he asked. "Because I could tell you a bit about this place and all its stinky, filthy inhabitants. You're just lucky you didn't choose to blow a _human_ , because I tell you what, you don't want _their_ fluids in you. Disgusting."

This was a very inane conversation that I tried to tune out to no avail.

"It's true," said Asmodeus, ploughing ahead with no concern for my obvious disinterest. "Humans live stupid lives. Their sun is named Sun. Their moon named Moon. The planet they walk on, live on,. Spend their whole lives breeding and fighting and shitting on is named Dirt. People are named People. It's the most nothing, most empty, hollow possible naming system imaginable. Humans are literally retarded."

On this subject I actually knew a bit. "Actually," I said. "The Moon is formally named Luna. Earth is formally named Tellus or, sometimes, Terra."

"Tellus means Earth. Which means dirt." He snorted sarcastically. "Behold, the proud people of planet Dirt."

"I'm not doing it for the humans," I growled, trying to keep my voice low just in case the ear buds didn't disguise, to a random passer-by, the fact I wasn't actually on the phone. We came to the edge of campus and the network of roads with cars on them. I made for a crossing.

"Then what?"

"I..." I marched up to the crossing and thumped the button to cross. It beeped annoyingly. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

"I _don't know_."

"You don't know?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are we going to do this all night?"

"Hope not," said Asmodeus, blowing out a low, long sight right next to my ear. "Damn, girl, are you a newspaper? Because there's a new issue with you every day."

"Demons are hardly pillars of emotional or mental stability," I said, trying to spin this in a way that made sense to him. "Haven't you ever had an urge to do something but, you know, you couldn't explain where it came from?"

"Yeah," said Asmodeus, "but not anything like this. Eating a cat? Sure. Murder some guy? Absolutely. Whip a foul mortal until the flesh peels off their back? More than once. But going out of my way to save an angel? No. No way. Never."

"Listen," I said. "I got a plan. I...just can't tell you yet." I snapped my fingers to cut off his inevitable argument. "It's like with how you couldn't tell me about what I did to get kicked out of Hell. It's a secret. One you'll come to know in time, but not right now. Right now you're going to have to trust me."

That didn't seem to make him happy. He grumbled into my ear, but that seemed to be enough. "Fine."

My phone flashed with a message. An incoming set of coordinates, accompanied by a simple message.

_Help_

I broke into a run.

29

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****

Lost Little Lamb

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

MY FEET BEAT A FIERCE tempo on the ground. I drew up on my demon strength, running faster than I should have, but hopefully not _too_ fast. If there was a masquerade violation, it would be a minor one. I hoped.

Down the streets of Jersey City I ran, dodging cars and pedestrians, back down toward Liberty State Park. Cloaked in night, it looked so different now; the lights of New York City shone through the trees, and although there were cyclists and walkers and tourists, I ignored all of them and followed the blue arrow to the southeast side of the park, with a view of Governor's Island and the cityscape.

The GPS was telling me to go to Ellis Island.

There was a bridge. I could see it through the trees; it was narrow, almost dangerously so, but mostly designed for vehicles with only one lane. The whole thing was awfully exposed. A metal barricade blocked the path, but the toll booth to the right of the bridge looked empty. If nobody was watching, I could easily hop that barricade.

"Coming here is dumb," cautioned Asmodeus, his tail lashing against my neck underneath my hoodie. "Ellis Island is a huge tourist trap. There are going to be people everywhere. Cameras. Guards. This is a not a good idea."

"Trying to kill the Morning Star was also not a good idea," I said, taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves. "Apparently I'm full of them."

"You're full of _something_ ," muttered Asmodeus, but to his credit, he seemed to accept what was happening, albeit begrudgingly. "Best be quick. The infrastructure in New Jersey is pretty old...the cameras won't see well in the dark, especially fast movement. So if you're going to do this, you better do it quick."

A brief white flash on Ellis Island, followed by the distant _crack_ of a gunshot, banished any hesitation. I burst forward, breaking into a run once more, drawing energy into my legs and leaping into the air.

For a second I felt like I was floating. Drifting over the metal barricade and onto the narrow single-lane bridge across to Ellis Island.

Then I realised I wasn't straight. I was going to land in the water.

I tried to focus, to bring out my wings, but I misjudged it; I came down hard on the railing, the metal beam knocking the wind out of me. Fortunately I hung on, dragging myself over the top and onto the other side, flopping down on the concrete like a stunned fish.

Another _crack_ from Ellis Island forced adrenaline into my system. I couldn't wait here. I couldn't just lay here while Gabe and the nephilim fought each other on the island. Groaning in pain, I dragged myself up to my feet, and I kicked off my shoes so I didn't leave them behind. With that task complete I stumbled down the long bridge, keeping my eyes up and focused on the building at the other end. Some kind of tourist reception area...I couldn't see it from this distance, but I made for it anyway.

Another barrier stood in my way, this one a portable one made of concrete blocks and mesh fencing wire, but I—a lot more carefully this time—jumped that one too. My wings came fully out, once more ripping another perfectly good shirt to shreds, but having them there helped me land perfectly on the other side. Now I was in some kind of car park.

The flash I'd seen hadn't come from here, it had been further toward the rear. I sprinted left, following the water's edge around past a pier on my left and buildings on my right, around and then swinging right again, down toward an open garden ringed in trees.

Another white flash. Another _crack_. With a start I realised I wasn't hearing gunshots. At the centre of the garden I could see people; and I could see the source of the noise, too.

It was a whip, held in Juliet's massive, oversized hand.

Gabe was strapped to a cross, back exposed, and she was whipping him with the skill and precision of someone who had done it thousands of times before. She put her whole body into it, striking with her hips and shoulders. Each lash was met with a bright, painful looking flash.

He didn't yell. He didn't cry. He just stood there, back exposed, teeth gritted, taking blow after blow after blow.

"We shouldn't be here," whispered Asmodeus. "You cannot beat her. She will keep coming and coming. If you defeat her now, then what? A day later, a month, a year...she will find him again and keep going right where she left off, without pause. Whatever deal he has agreed to, you have to let him see it out."

I didn't accept that. I wouldn't accept that. I knew I might not be able to beat her, but I could delay her. "She can't be killed, right?" I asked, grimacing as another _crack_ went across Gabe's back.

"That's right."

"But she can be, say...imprisoned, yes?"

"Right," said Asmodeus. "What, are you a sexy cop now?"

"Not exactly," I said, letting my eyes drift to the heavy steel railing. "I got a plan."

30

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****

The Beatings Will Continue

Until Morale Improves

_Ellis Island_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

I STEPPED OUT INTO THE open, out from the meagre cover of the trees and up a slight incline until I was exposed and in the open.

"Well well well," I said, reaching up and pulling back my hoodie. "Fancy seeing you here."

Juliet turned to face me, and for a brief moment, I swore I saw a flicker of anger cross her emotionless features. "Lady Grace," she intoned, her shoulders turning to follow her eyes, followed by her whole body. I had her attention. "You are a wanted criminal."

"Glad to see one of you wants me," I said, smirking just a tad. Couldn't help myself. "

"Your friend, Lord Gabriel, has come to make a sacrifice on your behalf." Her grip on the whip tightened visibly. "I entrust you are not here to dishonour this sacrifice...nor renege on it on his behalf."

I dropped my hip slightly, tilting my head as though considering a greatly important matter. "Do you really care if I do?" I asked, whimsically. "I mean, Gabe didn't consult me about any deal he might have made, and I certainly don't remember signing anything, so...I'm pretty sure that the various forces at play here will consider whatever agreement you've made invalid."

"What the hell are you doing?" shouted Gabe, struggling for a moment against his bindings. "You're ruining it all!"

Oh, what a stupid, stupidly attractive, dumb celestial. I ignored him, smiling ever so sweetly at Juliet. "Tell me, friend, did you ever go peeling the banana with Gabe, back when you two were dating?"

The question seemed to confuse her. "We...did not peel any bananas," she intoned. "Nor were we dating. The situation was—"

"Complex," I finished for her. "Oh, I get it. Believe me."

Juliet's expression seemed to harden. "This conversation is inane and serves no purpose."

"Just like yo mamma!" I beamed like that was the best joke in the world because it totally was. "Buuuurn."

"Burn?" asked Juliet, her hands suddenly crackling with white energy. "Is that what you want to do, demon?"

"No, Grace!" shouted Gabe, kicking and fighting uselessly. "Don't do it!"

Oh, so melodramatic. I leaned forward a little, sliding my foot forward. "Hey Juliet," I said. "Gabe told me you two used to do butt stuff! Is that true?"

If looks could kill, Juliet's glare would have burned a hole in my chest and blasted away half of Jersey City. "We were not dating," she hissed, her tongue sparking with electrical power. "We—"

"Arr, me hearties," I called, putting on my best pirate voice. "Get yeself all lubed up and proper, ye scurvy land lubber, for the good ship USS _Gabe_ be sailing into your harbour ready to plunder ye booty!"

"I will enjoy destroying you," said Juliet, snapping her whip and advancing toward me, the length of it crackling with power.

"Just like Gabe's angel dick destroyed your butthole?" I said, snickering quietly and taking a step backward, slapping my rump to empathise the point. Okay. I just needed to get her to chase me...

It turns out I had probably overdone it. Maybe the taunting about her sexual escapades, alleged or otherwise, was too much. Juliet leapt forward like a hunting cat, sprinting right at me, her whip lashing around like an angry snake.

Time to move. I ran back toward the tree line. It wasn't enough to hide in, but I weaved in and out of the trees, dodging between them, and heading back toward the water's edge. The snapping of Juliet's whip followed me, her expressionless face showing only the faintest ghost of anger.

I extended my wings, leaping over the water and taking flight, flapping up thirty or forty feet, watching that bright line of Juliet's whip drag across the ground. I knew she was going to leap. I was ready for it. Any second now...

There it was. Predictable. Juliet leapt into the air, her legs elongating weirdly into fleshy springs, her lightning whip arching back, ready to strike.

Unfortunately, without wings, she had no way of guiding herself. I moved out of the way, lazily drifting out away from her strike, waiting for her to fall past me and into the water. Such an easy trap.

Juliet's arm extended into a spring just like her legs had done, growing to an unnatural length, the whip reaching out for me, little tiny bolts of energy sparking from the tip. It grew and grew, far too quickly for me to avoid it.

In retrospect I should have seen that coming.

The whip lashed around my ankle, snapping against my skin and discharging a powerful bolt of lightning directly into my body. My wings, arms and legs spasmed wildly, flailing around like I was trying to dance to some unheard beat, and pain—searing waves of agony that truly felt like fire underneath my skin—leapt along my whole body, burning me right down to my bones in a way I'd never, ever felt before.

I tilted toward the ocean and began to tumble.

31

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****

Mistakes Were Made

_Ellis Island_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

THAT LIGHTNING WHIP HURT SO damn much.

I kicked my foot, trying to dislodge the thing. It was wrapped around me pretty tight and, despite instinctively beating my wings, I felt myself falling. Juliet dangled below me, swinging wildly around as she tried to bring me down with her, to crash into the water where I presumed nothing good was going to happen to me.

Gritting my teeth through the pain, I brought my leg up and, with shaking fingers, grabbed hold of the whip's tip. All I had to do was tear it off me, and—

Juliet yanked downward, beginning to climb up the whip, her hands growing out like weird long tentacle things. She scrambled up the length of it, each pull dragging me back down. Dammit...I needed to get her off me. She was dragging me down.

I hooked my fingers up under the whip and, with a roar, tore it free.

Right as Juliet's hand grabbed hold of mine.

Another powerful jolt of energy jumped into me, but I was accustomed to the pain by now. I flapped my wings as hard as I could, violently shaking my arm from side to side, trying to throw her off. Her fingers wrapped around my hand, sealing the grip, and her legs curled around my waist, thick and rubbery, tying themselves around and around behind my back.

Yeah, this was bad. Claws and horns slid out of my skin. I should have extended them earlier but I hadn't anticipated this going this way. I'd gotten cocky, overconfident, and now I was paying the price.

"What did you think you could do?" asked Juliet, hissing loudly in my face, her plastic robot-smile widening in triumph. "You thought you could fight me, that which scares the celestial realms, and win?"

I head-butted her, driving my horns through her plastic face, cracking and breaking it. The damage didn't even seem to bother her, even as her face splintered into dozens of broken shards, my horns stuck through her forehead.

"Are you unaware," said Juliet, her shattered face still somehow able to talk and move and form words, her lips barely an inch from mine, "of how many demons and celestials the Nephilim Establishment eliminates every century? Hundreds. One a year on average." She shocked me again, pumping waves of burning energy into my body. "You are nothing to me but another statistic. Another victory for my belt. You will be destroyed, the mortal realm will be preserved, and you will no longer be a problem to mortals...or to anyone."

Dammit. I yanked my horns free, trashing and kicking and struggling, all to no avail. I couldn't get Juliet off me. Try as I might, she was stuck to me like glue.

And then she began to squeeze. To crush the air out of me, to strangle me. Every breath I took, she tightened her grip, giving me less room to inhale.

"This," I wheezed, digging my claws into her shoulders. "Is kind of...lewd."

"Die," is all she said, giving me another shock.

I waited for salvation. I waited for deliverance. I waited to be saved by some power.

It didn't happen. My vision swam, and dots danced in front of my eyes.

With no strength left in my wings, I plummeted down and splashed into the water, into the cold and black.

32

****

****

Water, Bad!

_Ellis Island_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

THE DARK WATER ENGULFED ME, drenching me to the bone with freezing, light-less cold. Juliet continued to crush me like some kind of humanoid snake, her limbs squeezing the life out of me, her weight dragging me down into the cold and the black.

Demons were tough. Demons resisted cold and heat and injury, but we still breathed. We drowned. A fact I was acutely aware of. My wings made it hard to swim.

Panic started to set in. I clawed madly at Juliet's shoulders and forearms, trying to pry her off me, my razor sharp talons dragging deep gouges in her rubbery flesh. Deeper and deeper they worked, tearing through flesh and finding no bones. No structure beneath. Just rubber.

In my half-drowned, panicked state, an idea flashed into my brain. Less of a concrete plan and more a wild impulse. If she had no bones, no structure, then...what was keeping her together?

Nothing. That was what. She was flesh and blood and that was it. And that was something I could use.

In a frenzy I arched my back and dug into her, wiggling my claws into her shoulder, and then I strained every muscle in my body and tore her arm straight off.

Through the darkness I couldn't see the black blood pour from the wound, but I smelt it, rich and pungent, as it flowed into my nose. I kicked and struggled, wiggling free of the injured—or was it damaged?—nephilim, letting her removed limb fall away to the bottom of the bay.

Air.

I needed air. Which way was up? I could barely see. I could barely think.

Bubbles drifted up from my mouth and I followed them. Feebly, I struggled up to the surface, gasping out loud as my head broke clear. Out, in, out, in. I sucked down air, clearing the spots in front of my eyes and breathing air into my body and life into my limbs.

A hand grabbed my foot, pulling me back under. I kicked at it instinctively and, fortunately, it came free. Fear empowered me once more. I surfaced again, gasping in a few more gulps of air, then swam toward Ellis Island as fast as I could, my arms powering through the water. With shaking hands I grabbed hold of the steel railing and tested it. It was loose.

Perfect.

I wiggled underneath it, careful not to put too much weight on the metal, and dragged myself up onto the surface. I crawled on the ground, my wings hanging limply beside me. I spat out a mouthful of water, sucking in air as fast as I could.

Juliet rose from the water, blood pouring down her shoulder from the vicious wound I had inflicted upon her, her legs giant stilts and her left arm held comfortably in her right. She attached it back to her shoulder with casual nonchalance, the limb re-joining with a sickening slurp.

"I told you that you could not defeat me," she said, taking a slow step toward me, sloshing through the water. "What was your thinking? Did you think you could hold me under the water, drown me, vanquish me with such a mundane power?"

"No," I said, flopping onto my back and grinning up at her. "I just needed to keep you busy for a little while. Until Asmodeus could free Gabe."

Juliet's eyes flicked to the cross, where she had left Gabe tied up. It was empty. Just as we'd planned.

She turned back to me, snorting dismissively. "You think this is any kind of inconvenience to me?" She held out her hand, stretching it out and snatching up the whip that was floating in the water. The device light up with a bright white crackle the moment she touched it. "You will take his place on the wood, demon, and it will be your turn to be beaten."

"I thought you were going to kill me," I said, flicking my wet bangs out of my eyes. "Can't imagine that's any part of my...what did you call it? My sentence?"

"It is a common misconception that the nephilim do not receive pleasure or enjoy things," she said, standing on the edge of the water, looming over me like the damn Marshmallow Man from Ghost Busters. "Of course there is nothing in my duties that means I cannot enjoy hurting you before I dispatch you." Her eyes narrowed ominously. "Believe me, demon, we _are_ allowed to have fun."

"Oh, I'm sure," I said, pushing myself up onto my elbows, coughing wetly. "That's why you loved having Gabe knock on your back door, mmm?"

The taunting was obviously having an effect. Her broken face split further. "You think this will help you in any way, demon? How? What does your taunting...do?"

"Nothing," I said, coughing again. "But it gives Gabe time to get his gun."

I waited. Juliet waited. Nothing happened. She just stood there, water dripping down from her body and elongated limbs, as the distant, faint sounds of New York and New Jersey drifted toward me through the cold, night air.

"Obviously not," I muttered.

Juliet raised her massive fists, ready to crush me. I had no strength to fight, no endurance left to flee. So I waited for the end to come.

33

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****

Just Shoot Her!

_Ellis Island_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

I WAITED TO GET CRUSHED.

Juliet's fists loomed higher and higher, the moonlight reflecting off the water. Higher and higher. Oh, this was going to hurt...

_Crack_. A golden ray of light slammed into Juliet's chest as Gabe's pistol opened up. A volley of shots splashed into her chest, blasting her down to her knees in the water. I knew she wouldn't stay down, though, but hopefully Asmodeus had taken care of that.

Gabe stepped out of the trees, Asmodeus on his shoulder, smoke trailing from his gun. "Well," he said, crouching beside me, "fancy seeing you here."

"Nice shot," said Asmodeus, although he quickly added, "for a celestial."

Juliet hissed angrily, seemingly unable to form words anymore. I clambered woozily to my feet, still soaked through and freezing cold.

"Come on!" I had no idea what to do next, but I knew that it wouldn't matter _what_ we did. She would always come back, like some kind of robot, psychotic, butt-sexing boomerang. "Come on, come finish it!"

She seemed happy to oblige, reaching forward with her large hand.

Moving as quickly as I could, I crouched down and put my weight behind the steel railing, tearing it free of the ground. I raised it up, blocking her blow with the heavy metal.

The railing bent almost in half as her huge fist slammed into it. I flexed my arms, groaning loudly as I folded the thick metal around her wrist, twisting and turning until it was stuck. Then I jammed the tip through her forearm, burying it in deep.

"Now!" I said to Gabe.

He stared at me blankly. Presumably Asmodeus, that little stupid idiot, had forgotten to fill him in on the plan. "Now...what?"

"Now shoot her!"

"Oh, right," he said, raising his gun up. _Crack crack crack crack crack!_

Roaring in anger, Juliet tried swatting me with her other hand, but I jumped back out of reach. Her arm extended once again, reaching out for me, but I was quicker. Summoning my strength, I leapt into the air as Gabe continued to blast away at her, each shot causing black blossoms of ichor to spray out from the entry wounds. She tried to dislodge her hand but the thick metal was stuck fast.

"Keep shooting!" I shouted. "Keep shooting!"

He did so, endlessly squeezing the trigger. His pistol with its infinite ammunition was remarkably useful. Shot after shot poured in, bright holy light slamming into her chest.

"Kill that bitch!" shouted Asmodeus, swinging his tiny fists around as though he were some kind of miniature boxer.

A boat on the water turned on a searchlight, the white beam sweeping the island like the finger of some monster, and a voice—obviously amplified by a megaphone—rang out over the harbour.

"NYPD! Freeze!"

It was going so well. All four of us exchanged a concerned look, all obviously sharing the same thought at the same time.

If the humans found us we would be in huge trouble.

The searchlight continued looking, sweeping over the water, and soon it would find Juliet.

"Truce?" I asked her.

"You are not forgiven," said Juliet, shrinking herself down, until the metal popped free of her flesh and she was able to unravel herself from the tangle I'd made. "This fight is not over."

I waggled my fingers at her as she slipped below the waves, presumably to escape and regenerate.

The boat continued yelling at us, but I knew we were more than capable of escaping back the way we came. "This way," I said to Gabe. "There's a bridge. C'mon."

"Okay," he said, casually rubbing his back. "Ow. That thing hurt."

I bet it did. I glared at Asmodeus. "You took your time," I said, grabbing hold of my shirt and wringing out some of the water. "But nice save on the railing."

"Yeah," said Asmodeus, pointing out to the water. "But hey. The cops are coming."

"I know that. And Juliet'll be back." I ran my hands through my hair, trying to get at least some of the water out. "We gotta find some way to put her down permanently."

"Let's talk about that later," said Gabe, and I couldn't agree more.

34

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****

A Longer Term Solution

_Bridge to Ellis Island_

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

WE LEGGED IT FROM THE cops, away from Ellis Island and towards the mainland, using a combination of our supernatural land speed and flight to _really_ move. The barriers weren't an obstacle for us, and within moments, we were well away from the island, looking to all the world like a pair of tourists. Asmodeus crawled back under my hoodie. All was good. I finally felt safe.

"Well," I said to Gabe, grinning just a little as I reflected his earlier line back at him. "That went well."

He smiled.

Asmodeus pulled on my ear. "No it didn't. It was fucking awful."

I swatted at him through my hoodie. "Sarcasm, little imp. Learn to communicate."

"The lowest form of wit."

It was fun to banter, but in the back of my mind, I knew we were not _truly_ safe yet. Juliet had only left us alone because the humans were in danger of spotting me. What I needed was an option. I needed...something. An edge.

We walked through Liberty State Park, emerging once more into the suburbs of New Jersey. I checked the news on my phone. A report about kids shooting off fireworks on Ellis Island. It was stressed that the situation was well under control, but equally stressed that everyone should stay away from the area for their own safety. The nephilim were hard at work again, covering up for us as usual. I wondered how often they did this kind of thing.

"It's a shame I can't get back into Hell," I said, slipping my phone back into my pocket and musing over the problem. "This really does seem like the kind of problem where if people just talked it over, we might be able to come to some kind of arrangement."

"You tried to kill Lucifer, my dude," said Asmodeus, his voice becoming rough like gravel. "You can't just walk away from that shit."

Gabe grinned to himself at that. He looked away from me, at the lights of New Jersey, seemingly quite amused by the notion.

"Something funny?" I asked, a little more snappishly than I needed to.

"Nah," said Gabe, smiling my way. "I'm just saying...killing Lucifer is a pretty ballsy move. That takes some guts, girl."

"Too bad I didn't succeed," I said, muttering darkly to myself.

Asmodeus pulled my ear. Hard. "You bitch," he hissed. "Never say that!"

I swatted at him angrily. He pulled my ear again. I swatted some more. I must have looked like a crazy person, damp and frantically trying to bash in my own head. "He banished me!"

"You started it!"

"Did I?" Suddenly I was angry again. I tore back my hood. "Did I? I don't remember! And if I'm being perfectly frank with you, Ass- _fucker_ -modeus, I'm getting a little sick of getting beaten up, drenched, and frozen because of something _I don't even remember doing!_ "

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Man," said Gabe softly, "what is it with you and anal intercourse?"

That managed to pry a smile out of me. "Well, it's funny," I said.

"It is funny," said Asmodeus.

Another bit of silence. I nudged Gabe in the side.

"You and your ex," I said, jokingly. "No idea she was into whipping people."

"That one's new for me too," said Gabe. "Man, I got the ex from Hell."

I snickered. "Hey, not yet you don't," I said, nudging him in the side again.

Asmodeus made the sound of a cat throwing up. "You two are fucking gross," he said, a visible shuddering running up and down his whole body. "Blech."

"But seriously," I said, a more serious tone creeping into my voice. "We really gotta do something about this."

"Failure is the opportunity to try again," said Gabe. "But more wisely."

That was true. "I'm not sure shooting her is such a good idea," I said. "Doesn't seem to be working so well for us both times we tried it."

"Nephilim aren't vulnerable to damage," said Asmodeus. "That's just how they are."

Well, that was kind of a very good strength for them. Demons and celestials had power of their own, but obviously, total invulnerability wasn't one of them.

But...it wasn't total though, was it? We had managed to chase her away twice now, but most importantly, I'd managed to disable her arms. So she could be bound, she could be crippled...disabled.

"Do you think," I asked, slowly, thinking it through as I talked. "That...maybe...we could somehow tie her up and leave her there?"

"She can shrink and grow," said Asmodeus. "That'll make any kind of bindings difficult to apply."

True. "Lucifer would probably know," I said, not even really thinking about it.

Asmodeus and Gabe stared at me. I shrugged a bit, feeling awkward. "I mean, he knows a lot of stuff," I said. "I assume. Never met the guy."

"Almost no one has," said Asmodeus, an almost whimsical edge to his voice. "I'd really like to."

"I'll pass," said Gabe, frowning just a tad.

"Oooh," I said, grinning cockily at him. "Afraid of the big tough guy, huh?"

He said nothing, which was fine.

"I mean," said Asmodeus, obviously thinking about it. "You're banned from Hell, Grace. And you're banned from Heaven, Gabe. But I'm not banned from anywhere. If you wanted me to...I could go ask him." He paused, hesitating fearfully. "Or, you know, go ask if I could ask him. And I could bring Gabe. To back up my story."

"Angels aren't allowed in Hell," I said, frowning.

"Actually," said Asmodeus, holding up a finger, "that's not _technically_ true. They _are_ allowed if a demon vouches for them. Lucifer's always looking for more recruits."

Gabe snorted. "And you'll vouch for me, little thing?"

Asmodeus scowled. "Does it look like I have much fucking choice, hot shot?" he threw his tiny hands in the air. "I'll vouch for you, sure. Dick."

That left only one question. "And what about me?"

"Well," said Asmodeus, "this is where it actually gets good. Because...well, you're not banned from Heaven, either."

Heaven? I made a face. "There's no way I'm going to be welcome there," I said, groaning angrily. "They have that place locked up tighter than a Venetian chastity belt. I'll most likely get destroyed on sight. The archangels do not fuck around."

"Unless," said Gabe, "an angel vouches for you. The same rules that apply to you apply to us."

An interesting point, but it was all for nothing. "You know you're banned from Heaven, right? Pretty sure that means that you can't vouch for shit."

"Actually," said Gabe, mimicking—either deliberately or unintentionally—Asmodeus's earlier comment, "that's not _technically_ true. Being banned from Heaven only stipulate that one cannot plane shift there. It doesn't make me not an angel, and it probably doesn't mean that I'm banned from vouching for someone, either."

That...was actually a good point. "We'd be gambling a lot on a probably," I said. "If we're wrong about this, they'll vaporise me instantly. They warned us never to go there for that reason...and I won't have you there to back me up."

"What choice do we have?" Gabe blew out a long, bitter sigh. "Fleeing forever? Constantly fighting? Constantly having to watch out, to battle, until we are worn down?"

Good point.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "All good bitches go to heaven I guess."

35

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****

Heaveni...port?

_Jersey City_

_New Jersey_

I COULDN'T BELIEVE I WAS doing this.

Gabe took both of my hands in his, standing opposite me. He stared into my eyes, with those big ole' beautiful blue ones of his, and he smiled. I couldn't help—could not physically stop myself—from smiling along too.

"Lady Grace of the Pit, I, Lord Gabriel of Heaven, pledge on my honour, on my life, that you are fit to tread on Heaven's shores; I name myself responsible for your actions, and I swear that I shall willingly, knowingly, accept your actions as my own. Entry is granted for one mortal day."

The idea that whatever I did would be Gabe's fault tickled my naughty side, but I kept that revelation to myself. I wasn't going to abuse it.

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"I accept your terms," I said, as seriously and as gravely as I could. "I swear it."

"Very well," said Gabe. He closed his eyes, scrunching up his face. I knew that face. The face of concentration. The face of pleasant enjoyment. It was the same face he'd made when he'd blown his load right against my tongue, so the whole thing actually brought a genuine smile to my face, too.

Yet I was still in New Jersey.

For a few seconds there was nothing. Just a slight tingling in my arms. I had felt a helliport before; the warmth of Hell, the powerful build-up of energy, and the furious, wild shift of perspective from one place to another. It was like getting a firm spank on the rear. Hot, in both a sexual and physical sense. Lewd even.

But this was different. This was...boring, almost. Soft. Gentle. I felt myself lifting slightly off the ground as though becoming physically lighter; I felt like my body had been transmuted into Styrofoam, getting all light and bouncy and airy and...really soft. Soft and nice.

The pressure on my hands eased up as Gabe faded away, as Jersey City faded away, as... _everything_ faded away, drifting away like smoke from a fine cigar, until nothing remained but a wall of white.

And I was not in New Jersey any longer.

36

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****

On the Shores of Heaven

_Heaven_

THE WHITE LIGHT FADED FROM my eyes and, after a brief moment's squinting, I knew it must have worked.

I was standing a beach, golden and rich and clean, that stretched on forever in both directions. Behind me was the most sapphire-blue ocean I could imagine, sparkling as the daylight sun reflected off gentle waves. Beyond were green, rolling fields of luscious grass and the occasional short tree. Nestled in amongst the foliage were little cottages, one or two bedroom affairs, each with a small smoking chimney. The air was cool and pleasant on my skin, and the sun shone but didn't burn me.

Everything else aside I had to admit it looked very pretty indeed.

"Good morning," said a voice so close it made me jump.

A man was standing beside me, looking the same way I was looking, his arms folded politely behind his back. He wore a pair of track pants and a light blue hoodie, and he smiled in a way I couldn't help but find remarkably teasing. He had a similar Australian accent to the one I had, the one I was most familiar with, and he had traditional Aboriginal dot-art around his eyes. "Sorry if I surprised you."

"I'm fine," I said, trying to make myself sound more confident than I really was. "I was just...not really expecting anyone to be here."

"Normally there wouldn't be," said the guy, giving a playful little wink. "But I think we both know, you're not your average arrival to these shores, are you, mate?"

I smelled smoke. A nasty, acrid odour that seemed at once familiar and yet, quite strange. I looked around for the source, then finally looked down.

Little flames licked at my feet, as though my very presence was causing the ground to ignite below me. I lifted up a foot. The sand had turned to coals and ash, hissing faintly as the corruption spread, then slowly retracted, as though my footprints were a fast healing wound on this place.

"Cool, huh?" said the guy. "This place is trying to reject you, but you have permission, so..."

"So." I asked, "Who the hell are you?" Dammit. I shouldn't have said that. "I...I mean, who are you? Sorry."

He nodded understandingly. "You can curse here," he said, "if you want to. It's your place, mate."

"Fuck yeah," I said, smiling widely.

The guy extended his hand to me. "My name's Kuparr," he said. "It means 'red earth' in the Ngiyampaa language. I'm your greeter. We're all very excited to meet you, Miss Grace."

"Cheers," I said, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze. He squeezed right back. Firmly. That was good. "So what do I need to know about this place?"

"Well," said Kuparr, pausing for a moment to consider his answer. "Have you seen _The Good Place?_ "

TV wasn't really my priority. "Don't really get cable in Hell," I said, shrugging.

"That makes sense. Well, never mind then, they explain it pretty good." He took in a shallow breath. "About Heaven, though? The idea is pretty simple. Heaven is...whatever you make of it. It's whatever is good for you. Whatever would make you happy. This is your private little piece of joy."

I snorted. "You feather-brains have it totally wrong," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "Where's the hot guys? Where's the sexy little morsels for me to beat and play with?"

Kuparr gestured towards himself. "What do you think I'm here for? What do you think those cottages are for?" He unzipped his hoodie, revealing that he was wearing a black leather, strapped bondage suit, with buckles and clasps and ties aplenty. I ran my eyes over it appraisingly. It had O and D rings for fixing possibilities, unisex corset lacing, numerous push buttons, tit flaps for access to the nipples, and front and rear access panels.

"Okay," I said, nodding approvingly. "Heaven is kind of cool." The words actually felt dirty on my tongue but I justified them to myself as something I needed to say to fit in. "I'm guessing you don't often get people up here with my... _interests_ , shall we say?"

"You think bondage gimps don't get to go to Heaven?" Kuparr snickered. "All types get up here, as long as they're good folk. There's nothing wrong with being into getting beaten, as long as you're safe, sane and consenting."

"Blech," I said, making a face.

Kuparr made a soft _tut-tut-tut_ noise. "Well, anyway. We probably shouldn't stand around gasbagging for too long, mate. C'mon. Let's find a nice looking cottage and put the kettle on, okay?"

"That sounds lively," I said, and I followed the guy into Heaven.

37

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****

Tea Time with Angels

_Small Cottage by the Sea_

_Heaven_

KUPARR LED ME ALONG A neatly cobbled pathway towards the nearest cottage. Every step I took left a scorched, smouldering footprint behind me and sent thin trails of smoke drifting up from the path. The wind blew gently behind me, tossing my bangs around and generally making me appear—I was sure—about ten thousand times more sexy than I already was.

Or at least I definitely felt that way. There was something distinctly primal about breaking into Heaven, or any other place I wasn't supposed to go. It always felt so... _naughty_.

Which, I was forced to admit, may or may not have been a construct of this place. A feeling that they were deliberately trying to evoke in order to make it seem more perfect to me.

Damn those celestial bastards. They were good.

"Here we are," said Kuparr, putting his hand on the door and turning the handle. "This should do nicely."

Inside was a strange sight; a weird mash-up between "Grandma's Tea Party" and "Baby's First BDSM Bash". A large table stood in the centre of the cottage, with a circle of six teacups resting around it, each place having a corresponding chair. The walls were lined with both erotic paintings and bondage implements hanging on hooks and a kettle was whistling on a small kitchenette.

"Reminds me of home," I said, stepping inside and giving a firm nod to the attention to detail. Either Heaven really did have some kinky fuckers on their payroll, or somehow, this place was able to adjust itself to accommodate my particular...tastes.

Kuparr stepped inside and scooped up the kettle with one hand, fetching teabags with the other. He poured out two cups, dunked the bags in, then gestured for me to sit.

"Tea is great," I said, pulling back the chair and sliding into it, "but as fun as this is, and as tempting as it is to try out that leather suit of yours, we do have business to attend to. Some crazy shit is going down on the mortal realm right now."

"Oh, I know," said Kuparr, smiling widely as he took his seat opposite mine, leaning forward and inhaling the steaming aroma from his tea cup. "I'm guessing that you want us to intervene on your behalf, to either restore your access to Hell, restore Gabe's access to Heaven, and almost certainly to call the nephilim off your backs."

"That is exactly what we want," I said, firmly. "All three of those things. But definitely the last one."

Kuparr dipped his head. "Then everything's totally in order."

"Great." I sipped some of the tea. It was spicy, strangely enough, but quite delicious and piping hot. "Let me know when I can see someone very important because this shit is off the chain."

Kuparr sipped his tea too. "I'm not perfectly informed about the state of the chain _vis-à-vis_ being on or off it," he said, a mildly confessional edge to it. "They don't really tell me anything here."

"Hey," I said, "at least you _remember_ your life."

"Not really." Kuparr sipped a little more of his tea. "I didn't have a life, here or in the mortal realm or otherwise. This is my first day of existence. I came into being the exact moment you appeared on that beach out there, mate." He smiled. "I don't actually look like this. Constructs don't look like anything."

"Constructs?"

"Mmm." He put his cup down. "Imagine the following predicament. Two people are in love. They cannot be without each other. One earns the right to end up here, the other one does not. While the wicked party is receiving their just desserts, from the good party's perspective, living without their companion is a torture."

"Okay," I said, cautiously. "So..."

"So we have constructs. They—we—are built to easily become any living person, real or imagined. We can perfectly, indefinitely, mimic the words, actions, and feelings of that party, to preserve their feelings, and accordingly, preserve the value of their reward."

"Wait." I spent a moment trying to process this. "So you're saying that when good people die and go to Heaven, anyone they wished was there, but didn't make it...gets replaced by a robot?"

Kuparr took a little bit more of his tea. "I'm not a robot, but that's basically the general idea."

That...was _so_ weird and creepy I had no idea how to even respond to it. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," said Kuparr, matter-of-factually, "your version of heaven is one where it's believable to you, but you end up hating it after a short period of time. I'm working towards that goal of yours now." He smiled widely. "I hope you think I'm doing a good job."

Made sense to me. I was already itching to leave and I hadn't been here more than a few minutes. The whole thing with fake people creeped me out. If I was a mortal, the constructs wouldn't be my friends and loved ones; just fakers pretending to be them. So weird. "You're doing great," I said, saluting him with the tea cup then drinking a bit more. "But...I actually do have a job to do. I gotta talk to one of the bigwigs, if you know what I mean."

"A discussion is already taking place on your behalf, mate," said Kuparr, finishing his drink. "We're all working on it."

I knew that. "But you don't have all the facts," I said. "I haven't been allowed to testify."

"The agents of Heaven have been keeping a close eye on you," said Kuparr, smiling politely. "They know all they need to make a judgement on this matter."

I wasn't sure how that even could be true. Unless...a naughty thought flew into my head. "So," I said, considering a moment. "I was right when I said to Gabe that Heaven was watching. They were even watching what we did at spin the bottle, at that party at Damien's house."

"Correct. While it's true that we normally wouldn't be actively watching _all_ mortals _all_ the time, demonic entities on the mortal realm usually do evoke our concern."

Yeah. I bet. "And nephilim?"

"They, too, receive extraordinary attention."

I put down my teacup. "Okay," I said, leaning forward slightly over the table, getting a little sick of all the dancing around. "Here's the thing. I want a few things from you guys. Collectively I mean." I took a deep breath. "Gabe didn't do anything wrong," I said. "First and foremost. He really did nothing wrong. He was doing his job, on an assigned mission from you guys. He took out a succubus, just like me, and he was playing the long game; investigating Damien, probably trying to find out what I was sent to get, but in a lot more subtle, more...better way." I felt my throat tightening up, as though the words themselves didn't want to come out. "It's not his fault."

"Heaven is well aware of that," said Kuparr, "but you have to understand, there are rules. Rules are important. Rules are all we have, and we treat them very seriously. This is why Lucifer is no longer welcome in these hallowed lands...the rules are paramount."

Of course. That made sense. Heaven loved their rules.

"Fine," I said. "When can I know?"

Kuparr sipped his tea. "We should have an answer momentarily."

38

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Heaven Help Me

_Small Cottage by the Sea_

_Heaven_

SHORTLY. I HAD NO IDEA how short or long that _actually_ would be, so Kuparr and I just sat there, staring at each other, our empty cups resting delicately on fine saucers.

"More tea?" he asked, politely.

"No thank you."

"Something else?" he asked, smiling that polite, gentle smile of his. "Maybe you'd prefer to tie me up and beat me?"

I couldn't help but snort out a little laugh. "To be perfectly honest," I said, "I'd rather just sit here and wait for Heaven's verdict on this matter." I sighed, reaching up and pinching the bridge of my nose. "But anything else you can tell me would be really useful, to be honest."

"Well," said Kuparr, considering for a moment. "I know that the major players involved, mostly archangels and high ranking Heavenly agents, are debating the various arguments now. Despite what you might imagine, Heaven encourages diversity of thought, so it's not an easy decision. There was, until fairly recently, a position called the _Advocatus Diaboli_ —literally, devil's advocate—who argued as they imagined the Morning Star might. Unfortunately it was recently abolished."

"Doesn't sound very diverse," I said, trying to find light of the situation and failing.

"We aren't perfect. Heaven does not require perfection."

"Right," I said, sarcasm creeping into my voice. "It's okay if you murder a bunch of people, because the only thing that matters is that you _tried_ to be good."

"Not quite like that. Things are...complex. Outcomes are measured as well as intentions, although if you ask me, intentions are weighed too heavily and outcomes too lightly."

There seemed to be some underlying message there, some hidden meaning I couldn't quite grasp, but it eluded me. "Okay. Isn't that...good for me? Gabe's intentions were pretty damn noble."

Kuparr shook his head. "He, on two occasions, attacked a nephilim. There is nothing about his intentions that were noble in that matter."

"He was trying to protect me," I said, scowling. "He was trying to stop Juliet because she was being loco. She was _causing_ more disturbances to the mortal realm than she was _fixing_. Really, actually, I take that back. It's all _her_ fault."

"I agree with you," said Kuparr. Although, I had to wonder, exactly how much of that agreement was predicated on him being a construct that was designed to make me feel certain ways. Then again, he had openly admitted that his goal was to make me hate Heaven, so...who even knew at this point. I couldn't untangle that web and, if I was being frank with myself, I didn't even really want to. Shit was bananas.

"Fine," I spat, unable to keep the venom out of my voice. "I get it. You're a damn machine. That's okay. I just want to know when the decision is made, so that..." I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this. "So I can get the hell out of here."

"Too right mate," said Kuparr.

We sat in silence. The seconds turned into minutes. I was slowly but inexorably seized with an uncomfortable feeling in my gut; a dark, uneasy feeling that I simply could not shake. This...wasn't right. Something bad was happening; it was almost as though I could smell it.

"We're boned, aren't we?" I asked Kuparr.

"The decision hasn't been made yet."

I ran my hands over my head, trying to soothe away that worried feeling. "I...just—I don't think it's possible for things to get more screwed up than they already are. This is really our last chance."

"This too shall pass," said Kuparr. "It might pass like a kidney stone, but it _will_ pass. Heaven and Hell have always been at each other's throats...this is nothing, believe me."

Quaint, but not that useful. "I just feel that everything's resting on me."

"Gabe is working hard," he said, gently. "It is obvious to all that he wants to protect you. That is something that may play in his favour."

" _May_ ," I said, sceptically.

A faint, electronic beep sounded. Kuparr checked his watch, one of those fancy smart-watch things. "Gabe's mission to the pit has been completed." Kuparr scrolled on the tiny screen. "Unfortunately, it appears as though he was not successful in gaining an audience."

The stinging, burning feeling in my gut intensified. "He...didn't even make it past the fortifications?"

"According to this incredibly short report, no. He has been expelled back to the mortal realm."

"Is he...okay?"

"He'll survive," said Kuparr.

I slumped back into my seat. He didn't even manage to gain an audience with Lucifer. That didn't sound good for me. The Morning Star was not a forgiving creature, of that I knew—a brutish, savage thing who ruled through strength—but I expected him to be, at least, open to talk.

Apparently not.

"Sounds bad," I said.

"It is bad," said Kuparr, still smiling that gentle, disarming, almost creepy smile.

I kept forgetting he was just a robot. Just a construct, a programmed image that had nothing behind it. I balled my hand into a fist and gave him the bird.

He sat there, still smiling, staring at my raised finger. "You probably shouldn't do that," he advised, softly. "It won't help your case."

"Yeah, well, if Heaven is going to change their opinion over the way I've arranged my fingers, then I'm afraid I don't exactly trust their judgement and wisdom. They aren't making a good decision for the right reasons."

"A good point, but even celestials have...an edge of humanity to them. They are not perfect. They have emotions. They feel things. They sometimes do very silly, very foolish things." He waved his hand over his tea cup and it refilled with steaming tea. I could smell mine had similarly refilled. "Your... _friend_...Gabe is a perfect example of that. As is Lucifer."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, anger welling up within me again. "I get it. Really. I just—"

Kuparr's watch chimed again, an identical tone to the one that had come from it before. "A decision has been made," he said.

I gripped the edge of the table tightly as I waited for him to read.

39

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War and Peace

_Small Cottage by the Sea_

_Heaven_

KUPARR READ. AND READ. AND read.

"Well?" I asked, glaring at him angrily. "You said a verdict had been reached. What do you..."

He was so busy reading he was not listening to me, flicking his finger over his smart-watches screen over and over and over. What the hell was he _reading?_ Lucifer's Teeth, had Heaven messaged him the entire complete text of _War and Peace_?

"The decision on the matter of Lord Gabriel," said Kuparr, "in brief, is that while there are many factors that have led to events playing out as they have, and while many of these were beyond the control of Lord Gabriel, the fact remains that he has behaved in strict defiance of Heaven's mandates and instructions have led us to an inexorable conclusion regarding his presence in Heaven; specifically that he is no longer welcome here on an ongoing, permanent basis, until such time as this decision is reversed." He looked at me with what seemed to be genuine sympathy. "This decision is not open to appeal at this time."

Normally I would have said something shitty and sarcastic upon hearing that; something along the lines of, _Well, tough shit, Heaven sucks and he'll have to get over it!_ , but as it was, I just felt vaguely hollow and defeated. It was so odd for someone like me to be feeling disappointment that an angel was kicked out of Heaven, but I genuinely felt that he didn't deserve that.

"Okay," I said. "That's...that's a thing that I'll have to process in due time—"

"In due time," echoed Kuparr. "Bad luck, mate."

"Right...in—in due time. But for now," I said, nodding toward the watch. "I'm guessing there's more there. Stuff that I'll be somewhat more interested to hear."

Kuparr almost seemed to look guilty as he read. "Regarding the Nephilim Establishment, the Heavenly Choir have determined that they acted within the bounds of their authority." He lowered his wrist. "Their sentence on both of you stands. The actions of Lady Juliet-Tango-Delta-Five-Eight-Eight are judged to be both fair and just and legitimate."

Well...shit.

"That's not good."

"That is, in fact, not good,' said Kuparr. He pushed back his chair slowly, and then stood. "It's time to go."

"No!" I slammed back my chair, pushing it over backwards. "I'm not done here. I haven't been able to talk to anyone except you about this, and I'm not leaving here until I do!"

Kuparr shook his head. "I'm afraid there is no avenue for appeal on this matter."

I focused my anger, my fingers elongating into thick claws. "I don't think so."

He didn't seem bothered by my display. "It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, Heaven or Hell." He tilted his head slightly. "Buddha said that."

I remembered what Gabe had promised. That my actions would reflect upon him as his own. Not that it mattered, since he was exiled, but...I still didn't want to cause any further problems for him.

Slowly, deliberately, I retracted my claws.

"Fine," I said, exhaling a breath I didn't realise I was holding. "Let's go."

Kuparr moved back to the door, then led me back toward the water.

40

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God Helps Those Who Help Themselves

_Small Cottage by the Sea_

_Heaven_

I FOLLOWED KUPARR BACK TOWARD the beach, where the sparkling, sapphire ocean stood waiting for me.

"I'm guessing that this is the way out," I said, dejectedly.

"The water's fine," said Kuparr, nodding in understanding. "And it will take you back to where you came. I'm sorry that you didn't find what you were looking for."

I should have felt angry. Angry with... _rage_. Fury at being denied access to what I had come for. Yet I did not. Instead I felt a weird sense of calm and surrender. As though it was okay that we were screwed. That Gabe was screwed. That Asmodeus was probably screwed for sticking with us, even though he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Probably didn't even want this assignment. Only came back because he was told to.

Hell was unfair like that. You could easily be punished for something that you had no control over.

"I'm sorry too," I said, and without saying anything more, I stepped forward into the water, a wave washing foam over my ankles.

Inward I waded, feeling the warm sand between my toes, the water sloshing up to my ankles. Waves broke around me as I stepped toward the endless horizon, toward the water, and soon it was up to my knees. My hips. My waist. My shoulders. My head.

When it completely engulfed me, the salt water made my eyes closed. There was, just as when I had arrived, a brief moment of quiet, of peace, of empty silence and gentle tranquillity.

And then I could hear the gentle murmur of traffic in the distance, the beeping of horns, and I was back in Jersey City, in Liberty State Park.

"Well?" asked Asmodeus, buzzing up to my face, his short tail lashing around behind him. "How did it go?"

"Let's just say," I said, grumpily, "that Seven Minutes in Heaven really oversells the idea of a short vacation in the place, you know?"

He laughed at that. "Just tell me," he said. "I wanna know what it's like up there."

"Disappointing," I said, taking a breath to steady myself. "Not nearly as good as the time Gabe and I—"

Asmodeus hissed and held up his hands protectively. "I know about the dick-sucking," he said, sticking his forked tongue out. "Blech. Can't you talk about something else?"

"I'm a succubus," I said, as though that explained everything. Because it should. "Considering that, I talk about sex a _lot_ less than you'd expect."

"This is true, and I'm very grateful for it," he said, slowly and cautiously lowering his hands. "Now. How about starting from the beginning and telling me all you can, yeah?" As though catching himself, he added, "and if you blew anyone, _please_ skip that part."

"Fine," I said, and I started from the beginning.

41

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Alone

_Liberty State Park_

_New Jersey_

I EXPLAINED TO ASMODEUS WHAT had happened. More precisely, what had _not_ happened.

He didn't look very happy, but neither did he look too disappointed, either. He took in what I said to him with remarkable calm and patience.

"Well," he said at last, his tail flopping down against the ground, "I guess we're fucked."

"I guess so." I closed my eyes a moment, taking a breath. "I'm sorry. I did my best."

He hopped into the air, wings buzzing as he climbed up so he was looking me in the eye. "I know you did," he said, with an air of genuineness. "Babe, look. It sucks for me because...well, I'm going to be fine. I'm going to go back to Hell after all of this no worse for wear. I'm probably going to snag myself a nice promotion, I'll probably be able to claim your territory and all the mortals souls under your jurisdiction, and...well." He grinned a little. "I'm an evil prick. I can't say I'm not _really_ looking forward to this. Hell, I might even be able to get some other neat perk, you know? Talk my way into something great. But you..." his face fell a little, grin evaporating. "I don't think you're getting out of this one alive, toots. And that's a real shame."

Yeah. No kidding. There was just no way I could see this ending. Either we fought Juliet until the end of time, or we managed to hide from her. But the more remote we got, the more she would be able to unleash herself fully. If we crippled her, disabled her, or permanently evaded her, the Nephilim Establishment would just send another. And another. And another.

Until we were all dead.

Resolve trickled into my heart. Not a lot. Just a little. I was realistic about our chances—that was to say, we were royally boned—but I knew enough to understand that whining and bitching and complaining about it wouldn't solve anything. We needed to take action and do...something. _Anything_.

But first things first. "Where's Gabe?" I asked, suddenly fearful that he had done something very stupid again and run off.

"He's recovering," said Asmodeus. "The mariliths beat him up pretty good."

Snake-bodied, multi-armed demon women who guarded the gates of Hell. They were one of the few denizens of Hell, apart from the fearsome balors, who genuinely frightened me. "Sounds like he's lucky to be alive," I said.

"Yeah. Well. You know what they're like. Turns out the word of an imp isn't worth all that much in the scheme of things." Asmodeus rubbed his little chin thoughtfully. "You know what the messed up thing is, though? I swear I did everything right. I said the right words, I barely even mentioned him at all and they just...attacked. You'd think mariliths would be more careful about that kind of thing. It's almost as though they were told, in advance, not to let Gabe and I in."

That made absolutely no sense to me. "I..." I really had no idea how to think about that so, in lieu of anything better to do, I just waved my hand. "Okay. Look. Point is, we need to head back to NJCU and plan our next move. I'm guessing your little pet still has to offer us her room?"

"You bet," said Asmodeus. "Sugar, she is my toy to do with as I wish until she dies. That's the deal."

"What did she do, anyway?" I asked, curious.

"Well, she used to be the Devil's Advocate about a year ago," said Asmodeus, waving his hand as though this was all terribly boring. "Until she took an arrow to the knee. Or something. I don't really know what the details were, but she was some kind of mortal who had a special, privileged position in the great harp-place, got the boot from heaven and wants back in. Turns out she was stupidly desperate for this to happen. Desperate enough to pledge her mortal life to me in exchange for a good word in her favour in the pit." Asmodeus tapped the side of his head. "I wasn't just relying on your cute little arse at that party, you know. I had a backup plan."

Comforting to know. And it was something the construct in Heaven had mentioned. Now I knew who the Devil's Advocate was...or at least, had been. "Do you think she can help us?" I asked. "Beyond, like, giving us access to her dorm room?"

He shrugged. "She's a stupid mortal," he said. "Think about how shitty your adventures have been. Now imagine you had to sleep, eat, shit. Imagine you had no money and had to try and survive here with none of your special powers, _and_ the memories of how good life _used_ to be."

True enough. As much as I didn't want to feel sympathy for someone like that, I was also glad that she was around. I wasn't sure why yet, but Kuparr had made a point of mentioning the position—what was it, the _Advocatus Diaboli?_ —and he had also made a point of saying that everything he was doing was for my own benefit and enjoyment.

And if I enjoyed anything at all in this world, it was a continued existence. To secure it I needed to get out of this terrible situation I had found myself in.

"Okay," I said, stretching my arms. "Let's go find feather-brain and see what he's come up with."

42

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Fallen from Grace

_Frost Hall_

_New Jersey City University_

_New Jersey_

ASMODEUS CRAWLED BACK INTO MY hoodie and, without incident, we made our way back to the NJCU campus, and back to Frost Wing.

Back in the pit my home had been much more lavish, as befitted one of my station, not that I would spend very much time there at all. It was a golden, splendid, opulent manor house in the brimstone lakes, full of simpering mortal servants and the finer things in life. Nice tea, for instance.

But there was something... _appealing_ about the mortal realm. Not the constant threat of danger and being hunted by nephilim, of course, but something else. The raw potential of it. The ability for me to go anywhere, do anything, and still have my powers.

I wasn't a God, and I couldn't plane shift anymore, but...it was better to be a small fish in a small pond, right?

Yeah. I knew I was just trying to justify a really shitty thing that was happening to me, but eh. I didn't feel too guilty about doing that. I'd earned a little delusion.

Asmodeus and I rode the elevator to Laila's room in grumpy, sullen silence. Finally we came to room 3474 again. A crummy little dorm room at a stereotypical American university. I stared at the boring, plain wooden door. Was living in this room going to be my life, now? Just constantly pretending to be a university student, taking on a new identity every few years to avoid suspicion? Until...what, exactly?

Didn't matter. Worries for another day.

"Ladies last," said Asmodeus, rapping his tiny knuckles on the door.

"Age before beauty," I answered back.

The latch unlocked. Laila's gloomy face appeared and she opened the door a crack to let Asmodeus zip inside, closed, then opened again.

When it did so, the room beyond was not the one I had expected: Laila's room. It was an expensive looking balcony with a view over a mountain glacier. Cold wind rushed out, nipping at my exposed hands and face. Snow fell all over the ground.

This was...odd. Unsure of what to do, but feeling compelled to enter, I stepped through out onto the balcony, and as I did so, behind me, the college dorm room had vanished, replaced with an alpine skiing resort, or rich man's private retreat.

There was nothing on the balcony. Only ice and sleet and a frigid view of a mountain glacier. I opened the door I'd just come through and went back through it.

Warmth. Through the door was a wide, high ceilinged ski retreat, complete with leather couches, bottles of wine in chillers, and beast heads mounted on the walls. A crackling fireplace full of hot coals burned at the far end of the room, and sitting in a wide, expensive leather chair, was a very old man with a frail frame, so thin he might very well sink into a crack in the couch and disappear.

And his eyes. So intelligent they practically sparkled with life. A halo of light shone around his head, and little feathered wings were folded behind his back, almost as though they were some kind of second cushion.

He smiled at me as I entered, seeming to be expecting me. "Good evening." His voice was quiet but strong, an iron gauntlet wrapped in velvet, gentle but belying great, unfathomable power such that I could not understand it even if I had a billion years to try. "Do you know who I am?"

A chill ran down my whole body that wasn't from the cold air outside. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention and I realised, with a growing realisation, who this man might be.

"Are...are you the Maker?"

He steepled his fingers, leaning forward slightly, left eyebrow raising slightly. "Do you think if I had the power to make Heaven and Earth, I would lower myself to mere conversation?"

And then it hit me, with all the force of a collapsing star. He wasn't God.

He was the other guy.

I fell down to my knees, lowering my gaze and keeping it firmly on the floor. "I am your eternal servant," I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could even stop myself. "I would never try to usurp you. I don't know why I did. I have no memory of...of _anything_ that happened, of anything I did. I can only beg humbly for your forgiveness, for the forgiveness of everything I've done here, and I...I am sorry."

Lucifer said nothing for a time. I kept my head down, my eyes down, only looking up when the silence became intolerable. He was staring at me, gently and without anger. "I know you believe that."

"I do," I said, trying to cram as much genuineness and firmness and sincerity into my voice as humanly possible. "I do believe it."

More quiet. More waiting.

"Do you think," began Lucifer slowly, deliberately. "That I am accustomed to events not transpiring exactly how I predict them to go?"

"No, Lord," I said. And it was true. Lucifer made plans and they almost always transpired.

"Do you think that, perhaps, I might have anticipated one of my most loyal and ambitious servants turning against me..." a strange edge came into his voice. "And that others might also have anticipated this? That they might not support a rebellion openly, but if a strong leader, a powerful leader, a beloved leader suddenly appeared and had the strength and power to seize the throne, they might follow?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. "My Lord?" I asked.

He drummed his fingers together. "I shall simplify," he said. "Do you think you would make a good leader of Hell?"

It was such a weird, unexpected question that I had no answer for a time. "You are the unquestioned leader of the pit," I said, insistently. "I would never, ever, ever, ever, _ever_ question that. Ever."

"I know," said Lucifer, a strange smile on his face. "Which is why I asked you to do it."

43

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The Literal, Actual Devil

_Lucifer's Mountaintop Retreat_

_Location unknown_

THAT JUST MADE ABSOLUTELY NO sense at all to me.

"Your...pardon, My Lord?" I asked, staring at him like a stupid dumb idiot. "I thought you just said..."

"I asked you to try to kill me," said Lucifer, a strange smile on his face. "But, of course, I made sure to ask you to fail. They call me the Prince of Lies, not the Prince of Stupid Failures Who Were Usurped By Their Minions."

I struggled to make the pieces fit together in my head. "So...you _commanded_ me to try and take over Hell, and fail? And you knew I would do it because you knew I was your loyal servant?" I understood this much. "But... _why_? I'm only a minor demon, nothing special at all."

"Because of Damien," said Lucifer, simply. "Or more correctly, his parents and what they represented. I knew you hated what he represented; someone who preys on people but is not a hunter. There is no thrill in what someone like he does, no honour. He does not seduce. He poisons. You hated that. At first I thought it was a weakness, but when I needed him dead...I finally saw the potential in you."

"You knew I would kill him," I said, the realisation dawning on me like the flash of dawn. "You orchestrated the whole thing. Me being kicked out of Hell. Being sent me to that party because you knew I would kill him without being instructed to."

"Correct," he said, a cold smile growing over his face. "I even weakened the succubus Jessica at a critical moment, so Gabriel could kill her, so there was absolutely no-one else who could be reasonably sent." He slowly traced a digit down the length of the armrest on his chair. "You simply must understand, my dear. I could not interfere directly. I could not even order you to do this; he was too high profile. Damien was beyond even my reach. But if one of my agents, of their own free will, killed him of their own volition...then I get what I want. And you performed admirably."

Lucifer had planned the whole thing. "I am pleased to have served," I said, hope growing in my chest. "I do not claim to understand your mind today, but with time, I'm sure I will come to see the wisdom in your actions."

"Very good," he said, sliding his frail body out of the chair with a strength and power that belied its seemingly frail presentation. "Come, my little pet. Let us resume your position in the pit." He paused, as though a delightful thought had just jumped into his head. "No. Such a position is too lowly for you. Let us have you return...as my right hand."

The right hand of Hell. An unimaginably coveted position. Like being the Vice President of the entire world. I nearly choked, and my gag reflex was pretty damn good. "M-My Lord," I stammered, genuinely forgetting how to use words. "I feel...I think..."

"There is only one word you need to say," he said, gently gliding over to me, an inch off the ground, resting his thin hand on the top of my head. "Just tell me that you are willing, and together, we shall do great things."

_Yes_. That was all I needed to say. That was all I _should_ say. There was nothing else. No other thought pumping though my mind, no other desire that I wanted more than this.

Yet I could not say it.

"What...of the angel, Gabriel?" I asked, cautiously.

Lucifer inclined his head in a motion so subtle it was barely there. "What of him?"

This was a question I knew I should not be asking but I did it anyway. "What shall become of him, My Lord?"

"I imagine," said Lucifer, matter-of-factually, "that the nephilim you know as Juliet will eventually find him and destroy him. That or he will live in exile, looking over his back forever, and never know peace. Either way, his fate of no consequence to us." The thin smile on his face grew. "I actually consider it a little bonus, my most faithful servant. The cherry on this most delicious sundae. Knowing a powerful angel has been removed from the celestial equation is...gratifying."

It was to me, as well. Or it should have been. Rather, however, I felt a terrible pain in my heart. I didn't want Gabriel to be a celestial vagabond, roaming the world in hiding, always looking over his back for a knife.

_Stupid demon_ , I thought to myself. _You've caught feelings for this feather-brain and it's messing up your brain. He likes you because you're a succubus, and you're designed to, programmed to, get men to fall for you. He was a tool to you, nothing more._

I knew this. I told myself this.

Then why did I not believe it?

"Is...there any way we can bring him into the fold, My Lord?" I asked, trying to keep the hope—or desperation—out of my voice. "He is a powerful warrior, easily the equal of a nephilim like Juliet. He could be a powerful asset to us, if he were to swear himself to the pit..."

Slowly, Lucifer stroked over the top of my head, gently rubbing his fingers against my scalp. "Has he shown any indication _at all_ that this is something he would desire?"

Try as I might, I could not summon a single firm example. As much as he was into me, and he clearly was, he was loyal to Heaven too. He was genuinely good and could not be tempted away from the path set out before him.

"I want to hear you say it," said Lucifer, gently but unrelentingly. "I will have your answer."

"No, My Lord."

He seemed to understand. "Then what you want is impossible," he said.

"It is, My Lord."

"Then you must make a choice." Lucifer floated away from me, lifting slightly into the air. "It is a simple one, laid out with no misdirection or trickery of any sort. You can come back to Hell with me, have your memories restored and serve as my right hand, or you can return to the mortal realm with Lord Gabriel and...do whatever it is you decide."

I opened my mouth to say _Hell_ but the word did not come out.

"D...Do you not understand?" I asked, plaintively. "This scheme was awful for me. I suffered. You led me here, to Gabe, and I now I am drawn to him in a way I cannot explain. This is not fair."

The ghost of a smile crossed Lucifer's lips, knowing and in control. "You made a deal with the Devil, what did you expect?"

And then the _full_ realisation of what had happened came to me.

He'd set me up with Gabriel, too. As a test. As a final, true test of my loyalty. Of my willingness to do anything for him. Including leaving Gabe to his fate.

"Choose," said Lucifer, holding out his hand expectantly.

44

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A Choice Made Cannot Be Undone

_Lucifer's Mountaintop Retreat_

_Location unknown_

TO LIVE AS THE RIGHT hand of Hell, or to live without Gabe?

It was such an easy choice. Such an obvious, completely simple choice. There were literally trillions of souls in Hell, all of whom would be desperate to have me; if I didn't like any of them, there were billions of mortals on Earth, and I could have my pick of those, too. And even a few angels if I played my cards right.

But none of them were Gabe.

"I choose him," I said, in a voice so softly that I wasn't sure I said it at all.

Lucifer nodded understandingly, his expression unchanging. "You're not afraid of the consequences of this choice?"

"No," I said, with growing strength. "Not really. I know what I said. I know what I meant. I know that...this choice has consequences, because all choices have consequences, and this one means giving up being Hell's right hand." I smiled slightly. "Which is fine, because I didn't even remember Hell or what my life there was like, so you can't miss what you don't even remember—"

A bolt of energy leapt into my mind, so raw and powerful it might well have been light _inside_ my eyeballs. A billion unsorted, jumbled memories burned themselves into my brain with a terrifying suddenness.

I remembered whipping a crying man half buried in searing hot mud.

I remembered that I was not a minor demon, but a _major_ demon. Almost as powerful as the mariliths.

I remembered commanding a thousand spiders to rend and tear the skin off a woman, waiting for it to regrow before repeating the whole process again from the start.

I remembered sex. So much sex. Sex with doomed mortals, and not in ways they would have enjoyed. Sex with other demons. Sex with whips and chains and candle wax. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex.

I remembered meeting Lucifer. Talking through the plan with him, every detail. I remembered rushing his obsidian palace with my trident of flame, of slaying his mariliths and his balors, of cutting down his demon guards and bursting into his throne room, his audience chamber with a million witnesses.

I remembered the searing pain of his hand touching my face, burning out my memories and casting me out of Hell.

Just as we'd arranged.

With a groan I slumped over on my side, overwhelmed by the powerful rush of memories and thoughts and emotions. I felt as though I'd lived a whole life all over again. It hurt. Physically hurt. I put my hands up to my temples, trying to make the pain recede.

Eventually, and I was not sure exactly how long it took, but it did.

I remembered everything.

"How do you feel?" asked Lucifer. At some point he had moved back into his chair, perched in it like a thin, rakish bird.

"Like garbage, My Lord," I said, propping myself up into a sitting position. I felt like I wanted to hurl, like my stomach was in a washing machine and my body in another, totally separate washing machine. The ski lodge—or whatever extraplanar space this was that Lucifer had woven into the appearance of a ski lodge—seemed to be spinning, so I affixed my eyes on the horizon, trying to get my body to settle.

"Please accept my apologies," said Lucifer, his tone sincere. "I did not want you to feel as though you made a decision with imperfect information, or in an improper state of mind." He reached up and touched his thin lip. "How do you feel now?"

So much of my memories felt disjointed. Everything hadn't settled yet, but the pieces were there. It was okay. It was fine. I felt fine. I was myself again.

And I was still not ready to leave Gabe.

"I'm afraid," I said, dragging myself up to my feet even though the effort made me want to retch. "I cannot agree to your offer, My Lord. I know we agreed upon it, and it pains me to disappoint you in this manner, but...I have a connection to Lord Gabriel, and I cannot leave him. Not now."

Lucifer said nothing. I sensed tension rising from his body, building in his muscles, his whole body building energy.

"As you wish," he said, and with a sweep of his hand, an unseen force threw me out of the door of the ski lodge and back to the real world.

45

****

****

Everything Changes, And Yet, Nothing Does

_Outside room 3474_

_Frost Hall_

_New Jersey City University_

_New Jersey_

I FELL THROUGH A RIFT, a hole in space and the planar fabric of the multiverse, and as I did, I heard three angry voices shouting all at once.

"—old you, she was right behind me! Standing right there!"

"—can't believe this, explain yourself! This is all your fault!"

"—stop shouting, we're going to get into trouble, please!"

I tumbled out of the doorway and crashed heavily into the corridor, whacking my head on the opposite wall. I lay there, stunned and confused, trying to get my bearings. The flight through unreality had not been kind on my already fragile stomach. The twin washing machines had been turned up to spin-dry. My head was pounding and my whole body felt as though it had been run over with sandpaper. Everything hurt.

Asmodeus, Laila and Gabe stopped their argument instantly, all three of them turning to me with shocked, confused expressions painting on their dumb faces.

"What the hell are you staring at?" I asked, and then I threw up all over the corridor.

Demons didn't eat. So where the mysterious green-orange fluid that flew out of my mouth had come from was a mystery to me and, judging from the looks of all around me, quite a mystery to them, too.

"Woah, taxi," said a pudgy nerd-looking guy as he stepped over my puddle of puke. "Girl, you should get yourself to the shower block."

I flipped him the bird, struggling to stand up which turned out to be a horrible mistake, so I just lay there in my puke pile. "Fuck off, I'm Australian," I said, as though that justified why I was seemingly blackout drunk in the middle of a public area.

"Okay, okay," said the guy, backing off down the corridor, giving a sympathetic smile to Laila as he did so. "Good luck cleaning that up."

"Thanks Jake," said Laila. She and Gabe grabbed my shoes and, with a firm pull, dragged me into her room and shut the door.

Asmodeus crawled out from Laila's bedsheets, eyes wide as saucers, like a cat who had seen their owner opening a can of tuna. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Ugh, I don't know," I said, sitting up and putting my hand over my forehead. "I think—"

Something fell out of my hand, something small and round and black. It had stuck to the inside of my palm. A lens cap. Like from a camera. A modern DSLR or something.

"Huh."

Gabe pinched his nose, looking disgusted. "What the hell is that?"

"It's puke," I explained, blinking. "Cut me some slack, okay? I'm so sick I threw up stomach contents I didn't even realise I _had_."

"No." His finger pointed to the lens cap. " _That_. It stinks. I've never smelled anything like it before in my _life_."

I cautiously picked it up and examined it, giving a cautious sniff. It was hard to tell what it smelled like since I'd just chundered my guts out, but it didn't smell like anything to me. "It's...it's just a lens cap. Never seen it before in my life."

"It was in your hand," said Gabe, peering at it curiously.

"True," said Laila, moving over to her desk and sitting down, looking utterly miserable—and not just because of the puke. "I didn't say anything but I saw it too."

Had...Lucifer given me that? Or had he dropped it into my hoodie when he touched my head? Or...something else? Why? I turned the thing over in my fingers, examining it. It seemed to have nothing of note or significance at all, and it certainly didn't smell of anything.

Pain in my finger. "Ow!" I flicked it instinctively and blood came out, splattering the walls of poor Laila's dorm room. She groaned softly, putting her head in her hands.

Asmodeus snorted with laughter. "Did you just cut your finger on a _lens cap?_ Fucking _how_?"

I wasn't sure. I focused on the thing, narrowing my eyes. There was... _something_ about its shape. It looked real, but also simultaneously unreal. Like it was a painting of a thing. I only noticed when I saw it intently. It was fake. An illusion.

I was holding a massive knife with an invisible blade.

"Holy shit." I nearly dropped it. "Are you guys seeing this?"

"No?" said Gabe, concerned. "What are you seeing, Grace?"

I slid my fingers around the hilt and held it up to the light. "Look. A knife."

"She hit her head," said Gabe, comfortingly. "Look, it's okay. You obviously have a concussion. You just lay there for a bit, I'm going to just get some wet towels, and—"

I snatched up the end of Laila's bedsheets and slashed through them, dragging the blade through the thin linen so the others could see it too.

"Woah," said Asmodeus, scrambling toward me on the bed, his tail lashing around like a whip. "Lucifer's Teeth...that's a glamer!"

"No way," said Gabe, staring intently. "A glamer is only used to conceal a weapon of great power...there are only a dozen or so of them in existence, across both Heaven and Hell, and we have most of them."

"Well, I think this is one of those things." I held it up again. I could just see the blade, a faint shimmer like a heat haze extending from one side of the lens cap. I touched it experimentally and my finger went through; it was only the cutting edge that was sharp. "Fascinating."

"Yeah," said Gabe, staring down at me. "Where did you get that from?"

I winced slightly, knowing he wouldn't like the answer. "You really wanna know?"

46

****

****

Hidden Knives Cut The Deepest

_Room 3474_

_Frost Hall_

_New Jersey City University_

_New Jersey_

THEY ALL LISTENED TO MY story like enraptured children.

"Holy shit," said Asmodeus, for about the ten-billionth time. "You really met the big guy. The Devil. The Prince of Lies. The Light Bringer. The Son of the Dawn. The Lord of Hell. Satan himself...in the flesh."

"Kind of," I said. It was true, but I was still confused. "He...wasn't at all what I expected. I always heard he was a big guy."

Asmodeus clicked his tongue. "They don't call him the Prince of Lies for nothing, you know. He misdirects. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole 'withered old man' thing was just an act too."

It had certainly seemed that way.

"I can't believe you met Satan," said Laila, her voice almost sounding like a grumpy sulk. "It's just...wow. It's crazy."

The little imp landed in my hair and, almost reverently, began stroking the top of my head. "Lucifer's hand touched this," he said, dreamily.

I swatted him off in annoyance, glad a split-second after I did that the lens cap dagger was in my other hand.

"Okay," I said, taking hold of the weapon with both hands. "I gotta be real careful about this. It's very easy to forget that you're holding it since it's so light."

"Magic works weirdly," said Gabe, still holding his fingers over his nose. "Sorry. That thing just has dark energy about it that...well, it _reeks_."

I turned the weapon over in my hands again. "I think," I said slowly, unsure of myself but growing more confident with every word, "that this blade is designed to fight nephilim. Or at the very least, can give us an advantage against them."

Asmodeus whistled loudly. "Hell yeah it can," he said, his little wings beating happily. "Any weapon that's worth glamering is basically the Hell equivalent of a machine gun that fires nukes."

Gabe sat down beside me and I slid my arm around his middle. "This is your gift," he said, obviously disturbed by it, but equally obviously respectful of its power. "If you think we can use it against Juliet, I'm with you."

I leaned a bit up against him, closing my eyes happily. "Okay. That's good to know."

Asmodeus made more puke noises.

"I hope you guys won't need me anymore," said Laila. "I have a lot of, uhh, cleaning to do now, anyway..."

It was true. Plus, we didn't need a mortal around this fight either. It was going to be dangerous, and the last thing we needed was a mortal woman who, in all likelihood, now knew far more than she was supposed to. "It's fine," I said, "you get to stay here with Asmodeus." I grinned at her. "Don't want you running off and telling Juliet that we have this thing, after all."

"Hey," she said, holding up her hands. "I'm totally okay to stay here and not get involved in a cosmic battle between...uhh, between the forces of neutral and not-neutral, I guess."

"Yeah," said Asmodeus. "And I'm totally cool with not dying either."

"Okay. Well that settles it then. It's Gabe and I versus the giant psychotic robot who, allegedly, enjoys butt stuff like some kind of kinky cosmic Terminator. Which is fine. Because we have a little tiny sharp magic knife that may, or may not, do something special against her."

Gabe snorted dismissively. "And hey, just for the record? We didn't do butt stuff." He paused. "Okay. We might have done a bit of butt stuff. A bit."

I snapped my fingers triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"Probably best that you don't mention that to her," he said, firmly. "If she finds out I told you..."

Asmodeus landed on my shoulder. "I didn't even know nephilim _had_ buttholes to be honest. They don't exactly seem like the whole eat-digest-poop type."

"We are all made in the creator's image," said Gabe, which I couldn't really dispute.

Asmodeus groaned and obviously wanted to say more, but stopped. He was listening to a telepathic voice in his head. Someone else was communicating with him. I waited.

"I gotta go back to the pit," he said, taking flight and flapping up to the top of the room. Before I could protest, he vanished in a puff of flame, a sizzling pentagram left below where he'd been.

"Hey," I shouted to the smoky trail he left behind. "Don't you helliport away from us right when we're _actively keeping you out of the fight_ , you little shit!"

He didn't come back, so I slumped back against Gabe, grumbling. With Asmodeus's abject cowardice out of the way I knew we should get to business.

"So," I asked, "does anyone know how to find Juliet?"

"So far she's always seemed to find us," said Gabe, giving me a little bit of a squeeze around the middle. "Maybe that's the best thing we can do. Just...kind of cause a bit of a scene and wait for her to show up. Then we can stab her in the head with that dagger thing and hope that kills her."

"It doesn't have to be the head," I said, giving Gabe's backside a playful little pinch.

Gabe wiggled against me, smirking. "Let's stick with the head for now."

"You know I'm okay with head," I teased. "I'm itching for another chance to drink your Slurpee."

Laila hacked and coughed like a cat with a hairball, sounding almost for a moment like Asmodeus did. "I think that little imp guy had the right idea with the puking thing."

"Okay, okay." Bah. "So, where should we make a scene?"

"I have an idea," said Gabe, idly scratching his chin. "But I think I'm going to need a car."

All eyes fell on Laila who groaned softly, dug into her pocket, and handed over a set of keys. "Bring it back in one piece," she said, an edge of pleading to her voice.

"No promises," said Gabe. He waggled a finger at Laila. "Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Laila, pouting just a little. "I mean, I don't even have a car, now, do I?"

"I guess not," I said, grinning to Gabe. "Shotgun. You're driving."

47

****

****

Road Trip

_Interstate 476, ten minutes from Allentown_

_New York State_

GABE STEERED LAILA'S HONDA DOWN the highway. I sat in the passenger's seat, my hand on his knee as he wove in and out of cars, speeding just a little bit.

Maybe more than a little bit.

"You still haven't told me where we're going," I said, trying to keep my small, but growing, amount of grumpiness in check.

"Well," said Gabe, "I know we need somewhere relatively free of people so that she'll show up—especially now that we've beaten her twice in a fair fight. She'll want to use as much of her power as she can, and she's far more restricted by exposure to humans than we are because of her size. But it can't be _too_ private, because you know, we want to win and all." He paused for a moment, passing a truck, pushing Laila's poor Honda faster than it probably should have safely, reliably gone.

"Okay," I said, adjusting the seat a little, letting it lean back. "So where were you thinking?"

"There's a place called Pinchot State Forest," said Gabe. "It's about three hours out of Jersey if you stick to the highways, and we're most of the way there already. It's pretty heavily wooded, but still a tourist-y area, so I figure it strikes the right balance between the two. Much better than Ellis Island."

I mulled over the idea in my head. I really knew nothing about the area, but Gabe's logic was sound. It had trees and cover and road access, and was easily to get to, but there wasn't that much there we could damage, either.

"It sounds good," I said, gently spinning the lens cap dagger in my hand.

"Careful with that," said Gabe, ominously. "You know how sharp it is."

"Hey, my finger stopped bleeding eventually."

He overtook another vehicle, an SUV full of screaming children and a flamboyantly gay couple trying frantically to control them from the front two seats. "That it did, eventually."

"So all's right in the world." I took in a deep breath and adjusted the car's AC, turning the temperature up. "Sorry," I said. "I'm just accustomed to a much hotter temperature."

"I'd prefer the car to be a little _less_ hotter than Hell itself," said Gabe, although his smile said he really didn't mind at all. "You know. Just saying."

I was feeling chatty so I rambled a bit. "It's funny. Everyone says Hell is hot, because that's just what we anticipate, but the reality is that it's just like Heaven, only the opposite. We don't really have a set theme; just a kind of...universal displeasure engine, just like you've got. It makes everyone's stay as terrible as possible. For the 'patrons' I mean. For us? It's lovely."

Gabe sounded somewhat disappointed. "How can you love torturing people?" he asked, seriousness soaking into every word. "How can someone like you, someone so nice and kind...ever get off on such hate and anger and violence?"

"We have to do our job," I said, practically quoting from the Hell Staff Orientation Manual. "Nobody cheers for the garbage collector, the state executioner, the prison warden. But ugly, smelly, distasteful jobs are a part of everything. If Hell wasn't a punishment, what point would there be in being good?"

"There are plenty of atheists in Heaven," he said, telling me something I already knew very well. "It's not a matter of belief. Of fear. You can't be afraid of what you don't believe exists."

"Some people," I said, "make their Hell on Earth. They push everyone away with their anger, their betrayals, their lies. That's enough to keep them in order until they find out that their suffering has only just begun."

The conversation's grim tone had cast a pallor over everything. We drove in silence for a little while longer, Gabe dodging around traffic, and by the time we turned off the Interstate the sun was going down again. I wondered for a moment what it must be like to get tired...hungry. Bored. Sick. I'd thrown up recently which was a totally new experience for me. Maybe Lucifer had given me that, for some unknowable reason, a lesson for some great thing in the future.

Or maybe being thrown around from dimension to dimension and having half your mind put back into your brain in an instant wasn't good for your biological equilibrium, even for demons. Who could say.

Gabe spoke first, his tone quiet and genuine. "I'm sorry about Asmodeus."

As tempting as it was to agree and blame the little toad for skipping out on us even when we'd given him an easy out, I knew that wasn't true. "It's shitty, but...he wouldn't have been that useful. He's a distraction at best, and whenever I come up with a solid plan, he just seems to ruin it. It's like he takes good ideas and warps them. Twists them. Regurgitates them back to you as his own. He's basically the Google Translate of intellectual thought."

Gabe laughed at that, seemingly amused. "I get it," he said, "and believe me, on some level I'm kind of glad he's not here. But...I dunno. It seems like you two have a bit of a bond. Like he's your friend."

"Demons mostly don't really do friends," I said, staring out the window at the setting sun. "Not with each other at any rate, although there is a certain camaraderie there that I actually think is nice, but no. We're more...co-workers."

That seemed to put him off a bit. "I'd like to think we were friends," he said, a little more guarded than I expected. "And...I don't know if you feel the same, but one day I'd love to be more than just friends."

"More than just _fiends_ you mean," I said, grinning.

"Not funny. And stop deflecting. I'm asking you out here."

"Hey, you're the one who believes all that stuff about being together forever and ever, or whatever nonsense Heaven talks about." I snickered. "I mean, we met in a broom closet."

"Technically," said Gabe, the ghost of a smile trailing over his face. "We _actually_ met outside Damien's house. You and I just...knew each other in the Biblical sense in that place. And I think it was a pantry, actually."

"That's just a funny word for a broom closet."

"No, a pantry has food."

"That's a _larder_."

He stuck out his tongue. "Your _face_ is a larder. And...I actually think it was a cupboard. I remember tea cups."

"I wasn't paying attention to the tea cups," I said, smirking.

"After about ten seconds, neither was I."

The memory amused me, lifting me out of the little funk that I'd found myself in. "I guess." Doubt began to seep in to replace the dampened mood. "Pretty sure there's some rule on the books about the two of us doing that kind of stuff. Pretty sure."

"That kind of thing?" asked Gabe. "Dating?"

"Yeah. I mean, does it _really_ come as a surprise that Heaven and Hell might not like their foot soldiers fucking in a broom closet?"

"It wasn't a broom closet, we covered this. And...yeah, I know. I think it might be a big part of why I got the boot from Heaven." He sighed, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his cheek. "Take this however you want, but Heaven is a _lot_ more judge-y than Hell when it comes to this kind of stuff."

True enough. There was no reason to suspect anything else. Although the presence of the BDSM gear in the brief stay I'd had kind of said otherwise. Maybe things weren't quite so bad up there.

The car turned off toward a smaller, dirt track through the woods, and I realised for the first time that there was a car following us, its headlights on and shining in through the rear window. "Guess it worked," I said, craning my neck to see. "I count...three cars."

"Oh," said Gabe, his tone deflating somewhat. "Three of them. At least. And possibly more..." he blew out a long, low, dejected sigh. "Yippee."

48

****

****

Gotta Stop Somewhere

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

WE WERE DEFINITELY BEING FOLLOWED. No prizes for guessing who. We didn't even discuss it. We both knew.

Gabe drove deeper into the forest, along narrow dirt roads that swung back and forth, climbed and dipped. We passed the occasional cottage with lights on, but for the most part, the only other living souls we saw were in the cars behind us, patiently following us along the road to...wherever the hell we were going.

"You okay?" asked Gabe, eyes flicking over to me. "You're playing with that knife-thing a lot."

I gripped the lens cap hilt a little tighter, grinning at him. "Eager to put it to use," I said, twisting my head around and risking a glance behind us. "I wonder why they're just following. It's kind of eerie. No guns, no beeping horns, no trying to run us off the road...just following behind at a steady, constant pace."

"Because," said Gabe, "they don't have to. At absolute best, we'll run out of fuel eventually."

"Okay. Well, that explains it."

Gabe indicated and pulled over, the car gently rolling to a stop. There were no cottages, no lights, nothing but the moon above and the headlights of the various cars. The night vision of celestials and demons alike was good, so I had no illusions about my capabilities, but it was...unsettling. The bright pallor of the headlights cast sharp shadows over the forest, the trees making thick slices in the headlight beams, chopping off bits until nothing was left.

I heard doors opening and slamming shut behind me. I tried to count them. One, two, three, four, five.

Five. Damn. I couldn't help but look down at the sharp blade in my hand, the glamer working hard to conceal itself, to make it seem to all the world like a completely ordinary piece of photography equipment, unremarkable and unobtrusive.

"Hope the smell isn't a problem," I said.

"I've been getting used to it." Gabe unclipped his seatbelt and opened the door. "But the fresh air will probably help."

We had no idea if the nephilim would be able to smell the blade as he could, but we had no way of testing it and no time to do so if we could. I too unclipped myself and stepped out of the car.

Juliet was there, her hands firmly on her hips, waiting for us with what I swore was an eager look on her synthetic face. Two nephilim on each side of her formed a wedge with her at the tip. It seemed eye-rollingly perfect for them to have such a perfectly rigid, perfectly shaped formation. Very efficient.

I slipped effortlessly into my true form. Horns, wings, cloven hooves and tail all made an appearance.

"So," she said, an edge of triumph gilding her otherwise robotic voice. "Last time it was just you, Lord Gabriel, who came to me. This time it is the pair of you. I'm afraid that our deal is off the table...my masters have commanded your destruction for _repeated_ violations of our sovereignty, and the sovereignty of the mortal realm. There can be no more deals. Escape and we will hunt you. Fight and we will defeat you. It matters not, the outcome is decided. Your lives end here, tonight, in that field to my left. You will die cold, alone, and in whichever order I feel brings me the most satisfaction."

I coughed politely. "Okay. That's great. So, hey, guys? Behind her?" I smiled and blew Juliet a little kiss. "Gabe told me he nailed your boss's butthole. No, seriously, he did. Right in all up in there. Pow!"

Juliet's features hardened. The other nephilim, all female as she was, did not react beyond a slight titter.

Gabe reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I _told_ you not to tell her..."

"I'm just saying," I said.

"So," said Juliet, her tone acidic. "Are those the words you want on your tombstone?"

Time to show our hand. I looked to Gabe, then back to her, holding up the lens cap, making sure the headlight of their car could catch it. "See this?"

She squinted, almost—almost!—as though immediately suspicious of the thing, but after a brief second's pause, Juliet shrugged. "More of your inane babble, is it?"

Great. I pointed to one of her minions. "Hey, that one. Yeah. The one with the...boobs."

"They _all_ have boobs," hissed Gabe.

The nephilim I had pointed to stepped forward, boldly striding toward me. "My name is Zulu-Mike-Kilo-Seven-One-Three. I represent the Nephilim Establishment. I am here to terminate you."

"Terminate you," I echoed in my best Arnie accent, holding my arms out like a robot. "Boop beep. I'm going to call you Zulu."

Juliet sneered at me, her synthetic face scrunching up into a scowl. "Ensure that you do not destroy her completely, Zulu-Mike-Kilo-Seven-One-Three. I would prefer to administer the death blow myself."

"As you wish," said Zulu. She flexed her arms, adjusted her stance, and then stepped into my range.

I gripped the lens cap tightly, trusting that the blade was truly and completely invisible in the gloom, and as Zulu swung her fist at me to bash my skull in, I ever so gracefully lopped it off with a single swing.

Zulu howled like a banshee, clutching the stump of her severed arm, a look of utter panic crossing her synthetic features. From the injury black blood poured as though from an opened firehose, igniting in blue-green flames as it touched the atmosphere—neat!—and splattering on the ground, casting lurid, dancing shadows in all directions. The fire crept up Zulu's mutilated arm, seeming to burrow inside the limb, wiggling into her torso.

With a flash of light and a bone-chilling scream, she burst into green flames and in moments was nothing more than a pile of dust.

"Impossible," gasped Juliet, a genuine look of shock on her face, staring at the smouldering pile of ash that, only seconds ago, was her cocky minion. "No nephilim has been killed in...in— _centuries!_ Or longer!"

"Now that," I said, "is good words to put on your tombstone."

"Aww, I think you made her reboot," said Gabe. We high-fived.

The tension in the air changed and, suddenly, for the very first time since I had met the nephilim I felt as though the ball was firmly in our court. We were on the offensive.

"Get them!" roared Juliet, jabbing an angry finger at us.

Gabe drew his pistol, pulling back the slide with a _click_ and the hum of building energy. I gripped my blade tightly. The other nephilim crept toward me, much more cautious than their friend, and Juliet's eyes stared daggers at me the whole time.

It was on.

49

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****

Everyone Has Their Tricks

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

HAVING SEEN THEIR FRIEND PUT down with ease, two of the three remaining nephilim enforcers advanced on me, cautious and guarded. Juliet and the other one moved toward Gabe, their fists enlarging, ready to strike.

The confusion on all their faces was clear. I had been so swift with my strike, the lighting so poor, they hadn't worked out what I had done yet. Or so I hoped.

I pursed my lips, as though getting ready to blow another kiss. The two nephilim dove out of the way, frantically, as though I had tossed a grenade.

Oh, this was fun. I rushed toward one, flexing my muscles, and I raised the dagger high above my head to strike.

Unfortunately, I was enjoying it a little _too_ much. The nephilim rolled out of the way of my blow and the blade sunk up to the handle into the ground. I slashed after her, totally missing and overextending my arm.

The second nephilim leapt towards me, and I couldn't defend myself properly. Her fist slammed into my ribs, blasting the wind out of me. Before I could even process this, the first one kicked me in the groin.

Fighting multiple people at once was very difficult. I was not an experienced fighter, even if I was quick and strong and tough. The nephilim had the coordination and sense to attack as one unit.

Limping backward, I snarled and extended the claws on my free hand, sliding my fingernails out into long, thick, sharp razors. I wanted to make some clever quip about the groin-kick, something about how if they wanted to get between my legs, yada yada, but it didn't come out. My adrenaline was too high.

_Crack!_ Gabe fired his gun, the bright light of his holy weapon blasting into Juliet. Unlike other times where the weapon's impact had seemingly affected her, this time she seemed to shrug it off. Looks like we weren't the only ones who had been preparing for a fight.

No time to think about that now. I ducked another incoming blow, but the other nephilim clipped me on the shoulder pretty good and I knew I had to give more ground. I shuffled back, making an ineffectual stab at the retreating hand, nicking it on its index finger.

Barely a scratch. I expected the creature to burst into flames as the other one had, but as I watched, the nephilim dispassionately tore off its own finger, throwing the severed limb over its shoulder, obviously thinking the same thing I was.

Well. Things were just starting to get interesting. I stepped back again, Gabe's firearm blasting away beside me.

We needed to get airborne. "Up!" I said to him, focusing on bringing my wings out.

Before I could finish the transformation, a nephilim fist slammed into the side of my jaw, sending me sprawling on the hard gravel. The lens cap fell out of my hand and bounced away, clattering as it rolled somewhere I could no longer see.

Shit. Shit.

The nephilim leapt upon me, their fists leading the way, smashing down at my back, pummelling my body in waves; I curled my still-growing wings around my body, feebly trying to shield myself.

Gabe's gun blasted into their backs, blowing the two nephilim off balance and spraying black blood all over my boots. He lifted off, feathered wings carrying him into the night air, rapidly squeezing the trigger, each action sending white-yellow holy bolts down onto his enemies.

But I needed the weapon. I tried to focus through the pain. It couldn't have gone far; its round shape was only an illusion. It was, in reality, long and thin and had a hilt. There was no way it had gone far, but the ground was full of gravel, all seemingly round things, and the car headlights made the shadows of everything oval-lish and long.

No time to look. No time to think. I moved into a crouch, coiled my legs and leapt high into the air, wings flapping as I gained altitude.

Juliet and the nephilim below me stared up at us.

"You know how this works," said Juliet. Gabe shot her in the head—the round bounced off, flying into the sky, leaving a thick trail of golden sparks behind it before it burned out. She didn't even seem to notice. "You fly, we come get you...there is no escape into the air."

I honestly wasn't trying to escape. I searched frantically for the lens cap. It wasn't anywhere I could see. Maybe under the tyre...maybe it had bounced off the road and into the bush. Finding it then would be extremely difficult.

Juliet's limbs extended, her arms growing. She drew the electric whip she had used before, bouncing on legs that were, suddenly, unnaturally springy. I had seen this move before. I knew what to expect.

But I didn't have my weapon.

She leapt straight toward me. Instead of ducking to one side, I flapped as hard as I could, gaining altitude; her limbs extended just as I had expected, but I snapped out my foot, kicking furiously at the whip, knocking it away. A bolt of power slammed into my knee, but I sucked up the pain and ignored it. I was fine. I could still fly.

Juliet landed into a crouch. I heard, rather than saw, another of the nephilim leap up toward me and I spun around, kicking that one too, this time right square in the face. She fell back, landing heavily on top of one of their SUVs, crushing the roof in like a tin can.

Howling, Juliet came after me again, lashing my chest with the tip of her electric lance. Gabe didn't even shoot her; he had seen how useless it was.

We'd fucked up. We'd fucked up bad.

50

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Five on Two

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

THERE WERE TOO MANY NEPHILIM and they were too resistant to my claws and Gabe's holy bullets. Or whatever the hell it was that his gun actually fired. We had no time for this. I needed the only thing that we had seen could actually hurt them—the blade disguised as a lens cap.

I took out my phone and, with a swipe, turned on the light.

"What are you doing?" asked Gabe, curious, keeping his eyes on the circling nephilim below us, like sharks just waiting for an opening. For one of us to make a mistake, let down our guard so we could get the shit kicked out of us. That damn whip hurt.

"Nothing," I said, subtly showing him the phone in one hand and nothing in the other. "Just looking."

His eyes widened in alarm. "What the hell—"

Gabe's protest was cut short by a leaping nephilim. He swung around, putting his fist into its plastic face, shattering it like a glass bowl; the creature slumped down to Earth, twitching spasmodically as it 'died', but I knew better than to believe that. I'd smashed the hell out of Juliet's head before, and even cut off her arm. That thing's wounds would be healed sooner rather than later.

But as I looked, I saw the faintest glint of a glossy surface. A perfectly round disk. The lens cap! Just beside the front right tyre of Laila's Honda.

The revelation almost proved deadly for me as Juliet seized upon my distraction, jumping into the air and snapping her whip at me, lashing it around my legs and dragging me down. Another flash of lighting blasted into me, and I wished I'd worn gumboots.

I folded my wings and fell willingly, plummeting out of the dark night sky and crashing heavily on the hard gravel of the road. I squirmed and kicked, trying to free my legs, but the whip seemed almost animated, writhing around against me, fighting my efforts to free myself.

I was so close to the Honda. I scooted back, reaching out for the lens cap, stretching my arm out as far as it could go.

Juliet yanked me back, delivering another painful shock through my system. "Not so fast," she hissed and began reeling me in like a fish, putting hand over hand on the whip, each pull dragging me roughly across the coarse ground, tearing up my pants and scraping up my backside.

The pain wasn't much and I was tough enough to survive a bit of gravel rash, but the location of the injury made me see red. That fucking bitch was messing with the bestest, most perfect backside all the realms had ever seen, and I would rather be hung, drawn and quartered than let it come to harm. Gabe and two other nephilim wrestled on the ground, punching and kicking at each other. I had to fight too.

Dammit. Dammit! I dug my heels into the ground, pulling back on the whip, fighting Juliet to a standstill. She pulled. I pulled. We rocked back and forth. With a roar, I yanked the whip out of Juliet's hands, the weapon falling to the ground with a white flash.

For a brief second, Juliet and I stared at each other. She went for the whip, extending her arm out like a spring. I turned and ran back to the lens cap, snatching it up.

Juliet snapped her whip at my wrist. I cut the tip off, my blade effortlessly severing the tip. A shock ran through the metal hilt, causing my wings to jerk and twitch, trails of smoke rising from my body.

Ow.

Snarling angrily, I ran towards Juliet, but one of the other nephilim stepped in front of me, shielding her with her body. Which was totally fine with me; I plunged the knife right into the creature's head, right between her eyes, the weapon sinking into the hilt.

Blue-green flames leapt from the wound, black blood spraying onto the ground. The nephilim stared at me. Its eyes ignited, melting into flaming pits on its face. Its whole body disintegrated into ash, crumbling into a pile that the wind scattered away.

Gabe managed to overpower one of the creatures he was wrestling with, grabbing her head and twisting it right off its shoulders in a spray of dark gore. He put his pistol to the other one's eye socket and blasted it into stillness. He wiped away blood from his mouth, slowly struggling up to his feet.

Now there was only Juliet, Gabe, and I. And she was looking a lot less cocky than she had been.

"Ready to talk terms?" I asked, grinning just a little bit. "Looks like we have you outnumbered."

Juliet snapped her whip, flashing her teeth. "No."

"Okay," I said, reversing my grip on the blade. "Time to die."

Juliet smiled.

She actually smiled. Not in the happy, relieved way, but in the malevolent, victorious way. And I sensed something was very wrong.

51

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The Turn of the Tide

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

JULIET BEGAN TO GROW.

TEN feet tall. Twenty. Thirty. Up and up and up she went, expanding outward in every direction, her muscles bulging and stretching. I'd seen this before and it was not good; back then Gabe's pistol could hurt it, and my claws could tear big chunks out of her flesh. Would such a thing still be possible?

I casually walked over to the two nephilim Gabe had dispatched and, with two quick thrusts of my dagger, made sure they weren't going to get up again. With the grim task complete, I smiled to Gabe. "Ready for mega-Juliet, round two?"

He didn't look so confident. "The holy discharges don't seem to affect her when she's regular human sized. I doubt they'll do very much to her at all when she's larger."

"Hehe," I said, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. "Holy discharge. Apparently she likes it when you shoot that into her b—"

"Into her butt, yes." He groaned. "Honestly, at this point, I almost feel like she should just crush me and put me out of my misery."

Juliet continued to enlarge. I didn't know how big she got but it must have been over fifty feet. Her gigantic feet spread apart to better spread her newly acquired mass.

"Hey, don't wish _too_ hard for that," I said, pointing at her with the lens cap blade which, I had to admit, looked very silly. "But hey. Try shoot her."

He levelled his weapon at her chest and squeezed the trigger. White-gold rounds splashed off her chest, ricocheting off into the night sky like reverse falling stars.

Not even dented. Gabe, slowly and deliberately, slid the pistol behind his back and away. "We should probably let you lead the charge on this one," he said, brushing the dirt off his shirt with a disdainful look. "Dammit," he muttered. "I think one of them bit me."

"Kinky fuckers, aren't they?" I said, staring up at Juliet.

"It's time you stopped talking," said Juliet, stomping toward me, kicking over a tall tree. It fell near one of her SUVs, the branches whipping across the bonnet, the trunk almost crushing the engine.

I held the dagger in a reverse grip, settling into a fighting pose, my wings close and tucked up behind me. Damn. We had to get close enough to stab her, but her feet were moving so quickly, her hands so heavy...if we messed up, we would be crushed.

Juliet picked up the fallen tree, holding it comfortably in one hand like a baseball bat. She swung it down at me, a heavy, clumsy swing that I stepped out of the way of, hopping into the air.

With surprising swiftness she swung the tree trunk across and up, whipping me with the branches all along it, the trunk itself slamming into my ankles, sending me spinning and crashing to the ground. I kept a tight hold of the lens cap as I went sprawling.

"Grace!" Gabe ran over to me, feet kicking up loose gravel as he slid in beside me. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and grabbing hold of his shoulder, pulling myself up again.

There was a brief moment where, just for a split second, I lost focus. I forgot we were in a pitched battle. Gabe was smiling, relieved, and I was stinging from all the tree branches, but okay.

Juliet slammed her foot down on Gabe. There was a sickening wet crunch.

Then silence.

52

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My Squish

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

FOR A SINGULAR, HORRIFIC MOMENT I could do nothing but just stand there like a dumb idiot, watching Juliet's colossal foot grind into the ground.

"Gabe!" The word came out as a strangled gasp, barely audible. I couldn't move. I couldn't _breathe_. Could just stare, mindlessly, at Juliet's foot.

And then the anger took over. With a primal roar I let my blade lead the way, digging the weapon up to the hilt into Juliet's ankle, tearing it free with a vicious yank.

No black blood. No blue-green flames.

"Fool," said Juliet, lifting her foot up to crush me with it, too. Despite the danger I risked a look down at Gabe. He was lying face down, his wings broken and crumpled, and he wasn't moving.

The sight put anger back into my veins. I extended my wings, leaping up toward Juliet's foot before she could bring it down, slamming the dagger into the sole, dragging it across her flesh, slicing open a massive wound in the thing that had crushed Gabe.

She slammed me down onto the ground, snapping some of the bones in my ribs like kindling, but I barely felt a thing. My rage was total. I used the impact to force my hand into her massive foot, the blade leading the way, screaming in fury as it burrowed into her.

The bitch had beaten Gabe. _Killed_ Gabe. She had hunted me and hurt me and made me afraid and angry and I would be stuck in Heaven for ten thousand years before I let her kill me too. I tore my hand free and stabbed again and again and again and again and _again_ , the weapon slicing off her whole foot. She tried to shake me off, but I held on, screaming and stabbing and cutting and hacking and slicing.

Finally, she stumbled and fell over, crashing heavily to the ground. I scrambled over her body, crawling over her, using the blade and my claws like ice picks, digging them in deep and dragging myself up on her.

Juliet slammed her fist down on my back. The bones in my wings crumpled, breaking in a half dozen places, but I kept climbing until my blade rested over her sternum.

She tried to bash me away, but I leapt off her body, up into the air, and then plummeted down, slamming my dagger in past the flesh of her chest, into her body, in deep like a falling star into the desert. Right to her heart. To her core.

For a moment there was nothing. I could not even pull the dagger out if I wanted to. Juliet looked at me. I looked at her. She started to laugh, a low rumbling noise like distant thunder,

Then the smoke came. At first just a few wisps, almost indistinguishable from the trickle of black blood that leaked from such a deep wound. Then it grew, more and more, until the black smoke came in puffs and bursts, as though some explosive power within her was giving out.

Juliet screamed in pain, a ghostly, reverberating wail that was absolute _music_ to my ears. I twisted the knife savagely, summoning more smoke. Her whole body lit up from within, glowing green and blue, flashing and pulsing as though her whole body had been stuffed with Christmas lights.

And then, with a giant burst of dust that exploded into every direction, Juliet died in a massive explosion that must have been seen for miles.

The blast blew me back against a fallen tree, battering me against the thick, unyielding trunk, snapping my other wing and grounding me. _That_ one I definitely felt. Spots swam in front of my vision and blood trickled out of my mouth, suggesting that those busted ribs had done a little more damage than I'd initially suspected.

But I couldn't think about that. About anything other than Gabe. Barely able to walk, I staggered drunkenly to my feet and stumbled, almost helplessly, through the thick fields of blackened ash that had washed over everything. The remains of Juliet's body swirled all around me. I couldn't see Gabe. I didn't know where his body was.

I dropped the dagger. In a panic I began feeling around in the dust, brushing it aside with my hands, searching. Searching. "Gabe!" I shouted, my voice barely anything more than a strangled cry. "Come on, Gabe! Gabe! Tell me where you are, come on, I'm here. It's Grace. It's Grace and I'm coming to get you. I'm here. I just need to know where you are, Gabe. I just—I just need to know where you are!"

A stupid idea came to me. I could blow the dust away with my wings! A searing pain that shot through my back the moment I moved them, however, dissuaded me from that notion immediately.

Then, with a surprised start, I realised that I was standing on his hand.

"Gabe!" I grabbed his wrist with both hands, dragging him out of the reeking, sulphurous ash, pulling him up so that he could breathe. "Hah!"

My elation faded almost immediately. He was badly injured, bright red blood spilling out onto the ashes, forming a sickly coppery congealed mess that stuck to everything. Groaning in pain, I dragged him out of the ashes and out onto the hard gravel of the road, down beside Laila's car.

And I hoped this wasn't where he was going to die.

53

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Pain and Darkness

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

"GABE," I PLEADED. "COME ON. Come back to me, come back to me." Fearful of what I might find, I turned him over onto his back so I could get a good look at his condition.

His arms were dislocated. They flopped around on his body like limp noodles. His ribcage had taken one hell of a beating, just like mine had, but it...looked intact. Broken ribs, sure, we both likely had that, but I couldn't see anything life threatening.

He was breathing. His heart was beating, strong and firm. His wings, just like mine, were broken, but overall he was tough. I had to give him that.

Then, with obvious reluctance and pain, his eyes fluttered open.

I laughed, cackling insanely with relief, and I lay my head down on his chest.

"Ow, ow, ow," said Gabe, and I immediately reconsidered.

"Sorry." I settled instead for gently patting one of the areas of his body that wasn't obviously hurt and bleeding, his hip. It took me a little bit to find it, though, which was a worry. "You're hurt pretty bad," I said, completely genuinely. Angels and demons didn't really heal the same way humans did. We could slowly patch ourselves up, but our power came from our planes of existence. I would probably be okay, probably, but Gabe...

"I'm fine," he wheezed, giving a wet cough, his throat full of blood.

He wasn't fine. And him being here? Dying like this, on the mortal realm? I had to do something.

"Okay," I said, steeling myself. "You gotta send me back to Heaven," I said. "You gotta get me there so I can send for help."

"Banished," he whispered. "They...don't care."

"They care. It's like you said, you know, you're still an angel. You're still one of them. They'll let me visit again, just for a tiny bit, if it'll save you."

The look on his face, regretful and hesitant, told me his answer more than anything else I could have done.

We could fix this. We had fought five nephilim and come out on top, including Juliet as a massive giant. This wasn't even a problem...not a problem. "Tell me how to fix you," I said, grinding my teeth together. "Tell me what I can do. There must be something."

Gabe said nothing, laying his head back on the road and looking up at the night sky. "It's a lovely night," he said, softly.

"No, it's not. It's a shit night and if you die here, you stupid dumb feather-brained piece of garbage, I will seriously claw my way into Heaven, through its walls and guards and everything, and I will drag your sorry arse out of there and get you—" my voice cracked. "And get you brought back to life. Somehow."

"Not possible," he said, voice barely a whisper.

I needed something. Something...

Maybe it wasn't necessary to go to Heaven to get help. The celestials were watching what I was doing with great interest—that much they had told me. Watching me. Probably watching right now, possibly?

"Hey!" I shouted to the sky. "I know you're up there! I know you can see me!" Tears ran down my face, hissing faintly as they evaporated, acidic and corrosive demon tears. "You can't let him die like this, fighting to protect someone else! You goody-goody fucking two-shoes love that garbage, don't you?" I waved my arms around like a lunatic. "Come on! Put up or shut up, you winged arseholes! I'm calling you out right here!"

Silence. The wind whispered gently through the trees, rustling the leaves, and the SUV engines ticked over quietly. No answers. No voices from above.

Then it would have to be from somewhere else.

"Lucifer!" I shouted, my eyes downcast. "I've reconsidered. I will be your hand, Dark Prince. I will do it!"

From behind a tree—as though he had been hiding there the whole time—the almost skeletal form of Lucifer slid into view, gliding as though the soles of his feet were covered in ice. "It's rude to shout," he said, his voice calm but full of dark promise. "I saw you found my gift."

As much as I wanted to save Gabe and focus my attention on that, I couldn't help but acknowledge this. "I did. Thank you. Without it, we would both be dead."

"And then how could I recover on my investment?" Lucifer smiled in that friendly, easy way he had that was at once disarming and unbelievably cold. "I hear you've had a change of heart."

"Gabe is dying," I said, as plainly as I could. "Heaven's gates are closed to my words. If you save him, I promise to serve you faithfully and true. I don't care what it takes. I just want you to bring him back. Don't let Heaven take him."

Lucifer seemed to regard the situation with the air of one whose careful machinations were blossoming and bearing fright right in front of his eyes. "You should know, serving as the right hand of Hell has many perks, but visits to the surface and leave days are not one of them. If you commit to this, you will, in all likelihood, never lay eyes upon Lord Gabriel at all, again, ever."

Gabe wheezed in pain. His lungs were filling up with blood. If he didn't bleed to death, he would drown in his own lifeblood. I had little time.

"I understand that." Even as I watched, Gabe's breathing got weaker, shallower. I didn't want this to be the last time I ever saw him, but I wanted this to be the last time I ever saw him _alive_ to be less. If he lived, there was hope. Without life I had nothing.

"Just do it," I said. "Just...save him."

54

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Her Whole World, Turned Upside Down

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

I HOPED I WAS DOING the right thing.

Lucifer snapped his fingers. With a soft flash of red light, Asmodeus appeared in his hand, carrying a large syringe as big as he was, filled with an ominous blood-red fluid that swirled with flecks of black. It was good to see that pesky little imp again, but at the same time, it infuriated me how he had appeared...so quickly. So prepared.

Asmodeus flapped over to me, obviously straining under the weight of the massive syringe, perching down on Gabe's shoulder. "Okay," he said, grunting as he hoisted the large glass cylinder up, its needle glinting ominously in the moonlight. "Say the word and I'll jab him full of this Hellish shit, and we'll be on our way to fixing him."

"Do not," cautioned Lucifer softly, "forget our deal, Lady Grace."

How could I? I took a deep breath, almost backing out. I didn't want this. I wanted to be with Gabe...but I had no choice.

"Yeah," I said, nodding down to Asmodeus. "I won't. Just save him. I'll deal with what comes next later."

With no further ado, Asmodeus scrambled down Gabe's arm, toward the elbow. He stood straddling the limb, spending an agonising few seconds adjusting his posture and aligning the needle to the vein, and then gently, easily, slipped the tip into Gabe's flesh and depressed the plunger, putting most of his weight onto it.

The instant the red fluid touched Gabe's veins it began to glow. As Gabe's heart beat and pumped the stuff around his body, it created glowing red spider webs underneath his skin, making his whole body light up from within. I saw—and _heard_ —the bones in his wings rearrange themselves, crunching softly as the broken parts realigned themselves and attached, repairing themselves with soft red flashes of light that shone up through the skin. The broken ribs on his chest resettled and stopped being broken, the wheezing whenever he breathed eased up, died down, and then went away entirely.

The red light persisted for a few seconds, seeming to be almost running out of things to do, and then it faded just as quickly as it had arrived.

Asmodeus removed the syringe, hopping back to inspect his handiwork. "Not bad," he said, nodding with approval. "I think that basically did it."

I hoped so. My heart was pounding at a billion beats as second inside my chest, my tail thumping against the ground and my broken wings hanging uselessly down by my back.

What if it didn't work? Lucifer wasn't really known for his refunds policy. If Gabe died here, would I still become his second in command?

A thousand thoughts flew through my head all at once and none of them very helpful or productive at all. But one overrode all of them.

"Gabe?" I asked, fearful of the response.

"Hey." He smiled at me, just a little, but colour was already returning to his cheeks. "What did I miss?"

Oh boy. Demons weren't supposed to cry. We definitely were not supposed to cry. Maybe I was a bad demon, because I bawled like some kind of big whiny angel baby. "Not—not much."

Lucifer looked on, a strange, unreadable expression on his face; a mixture of curiosity, happiness, anger, and frustration.

"Okay," said Gabe, swallowing a mouthful of blood. "Wow." He stared up at me in bewilderment. "What happened?"

"Heeeeey, don't worry about it," I said down to Gabe, dragging the word out, fighting to keep my voice as even as possible despite my blubbering. "Looks like you're okay, you feather brained, stupid, dumb, idiotic, big ole' stupid angel stupid...stupid."

"Well said," muttered Asmodeus, casually fluttering away from Gabe to perch on Lucifer's shoulder again. "This turned out a lot more disgusting than even I could possibly imagine."

Gabe turned his head to say something to Asmodeus, probably something shitty and bickering, but then he saw... _him_. Lucifer himself, standing there and observing the goings on.

"Surprise," I said. "Guess who."

He looked back at me, stunned as a mullet. "I...is that who I _think_ it is?"

"Oh, don't mind me," said Lucifer, his thin face adopting a small little smile. "I'm just an angel with an interesting vocation and _profound_ daddy issues."

Gabe's eyes kept flicking toward Lucifer but, at least for now, he seemed to be mostly focusing on me. Which was good. "Juliet?"

"Dead. Well, as dead as the others. Which might not be so dead after all. But for now? Dead."

That seemed to relieve him greatly. He closed his eyes, resting his head back, now healed wings resting down by his side. "Thank you," he said, with a palpable quiver in his voice. "I know...it must not have been easy to reach out to him about this."

How strange it must feel for him, for an angel of Heaven to be saved by Lucifer himself, but if the notion upset Gabe at all, he didn't show much sign of it. He was being good. Or maybe just delirious from his injuries. Maybe the true extent of what had happened had not really sunk in yet, or...

"Mmm," I said, taking a deep breath. "But...don't thank me just yet."

Lucifer smiled at me and dipped his head. "It's time to go," he said, gently, but in a tone that booked no argument.

55

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A Deal's a Deal

_Pinchot State Forest_

_New York State_

"WAIT," SAID GABE, CONFUSION PAINTED all over his face. "What do you mean?"

It was time to tell him. My stomach became a sinking black pit, for right at that moment I felt almost as terrible as when I'd seen him get crushed. Almost. "Lucifer helps nobody for free," I said, a firm lump building in my throat that threatened to smother the words before they could properly come out. "I...I promised him something very serious that I am obligated to follow through on."

"It doesn't matter what you promised him," said Gabe, his tone turning fierce. "I'll gladly pay whatever cost you offered. I'm an angel. I know he will want me to suffer, want me to burn alongside others of my kind in the pit—I will do it. I will gladly suffer. Don't concern yourself with that."

"It's...not about you," I said, cautiously, trying to break the news to him. "I would never offer you in exchange for myself."

"Okay," said Gabe, slowly, "I understand that this means you won't get back to Hell now. I get that. But listen to me, Grace—that's a _good thing_. I want you to stay here on the mortal realm. I want to be with you here, make a life with you here, and I'm totally okay with never having to go back to Heaven. That's what I want. That's perfect."

"That's...also not what Lucifer wants," I said, taking a deep breath. "He wants me to return to Hell with him, to serve as his right hand for all time."

Slowly, the gears turned in Gabe's head as he put the pieces together. "But how will I see you?"

Oh boy, he was starting to get it. "You can't," I said, as flatly as I could, which was not very much. "It's...a full time position. Basically. Lots of pitchforking." I made a little stabby motion with a finger. "Sinners aren't going to—" My voice cracked. "Aren't going to poke themselves, you know. It's...it's a lot of poking. Poke poke."

Silence. A dark, foreboding silence that seemed to consume all the sound around it, drinking in everything and swallowing it.

"I'll wait for you," said Gabe, a fierce edge in his tone. "Forever. Until you have the time. Whatever you can spare. A day, an hour, a minute...until you're free, I'll wait here, with the living. And when you get a chance, no matter how infrequent, no matter how brief, I'll be here. Until there's no more time to wait."

"You want to be sad and miserable and lonely forever?" Even the very thought of it was impossible for me to bear. The mental image of Gabe finding a house, getting a job, watching the years and decades and centuries pass by until finally, finally I could spare a moment to go see him. And be with him. "No," I said, with as much finality as I could muster. "That's dumb. And you're dumb for thinking it. Go...go be happy _now_. Enjoy your life _now_. You can't become some Obi-Wan-esque hermit living a life of boredom and solitude waiting for the off chance that some demon with an Australian accent you met for a couple of days might— _might_ —be able to come visit you at some point. It's stupid. Don't do it."

"That's very demon thinking," he said, the edges of his mouth curling up slightly. "Just focusing on the present."

"It's _smart_." I had to make him see. I had to make him understand. "You know what's not very _angel_ thinking? Wanting to spend your life with a demon. Knowing you can't because she's literally serving as Satan's right hand man. Woman. Demon. Whatever. Don't do that to yourself."

"It's my life, my stupid decision to make. Because...because I really like you. And I...I even like that you're a demon, because you're unlike any other demon I've ever met. And we work well together."

I glared at him, trying to make him see. "How can you justify loving something in me that you hate in others?"

Gabe smiled sheepishly. "Love is weird?"

"Woah," I said, trying to laugh it off and failing miserably. "You're just going to drop the L word right out there without any warning?" I poked him in the chest. "Even if you were literally dying like two minutes ago, there's no way I'm going to let you get away with that little stunt, buster."

He stared at me. "You said it first," he said.

Oh. Right. "Shut up." I poked him again. "C'mon. Talk. Explain."

"Well, love is...quite different for different people," he said, coughing slightly. "For example, the great scholar Plato believed that love between friends encouraged a higher level of intimacy than physical or sexual love, so should be more highly regarded. Hence _platonic_ relationships."

"That's bullshit," I said, decisively, although I couldn't help but give a weak smile. "There's nothing wrong with doing what you did...receiving 'holy communion' from a total stranger in some guy's house."

Gabe flushed terribly. "Please don't call it that when Lucifer's watching," he murmured.

"It's time to go," said Lucifer, a little more insistently, and I knew he was not a patient man. "We have a great deal to talk about."

I stood and, before I had a chance to change my mind, turned toward Lucifer. "Very well," I said, keeping my eyes on him and away from Gabe. "Let's get out of here."

"Hold on," said Gabe, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "There's got to be some other way. There's gotta be an option here. Something that you can do instead. Some other way—"

"The weapon," said Lucifer, holding out his hand. "I would like it back."

I'd dropped it somewhere. I wasn't sure where. "I..."

With a sigh, Lucifer held out his hand. The lens cap flew out of the Juliet-dust and into his grip, nestling comfortably against his wrinkled, ancient skin. He closed his hand and the item disappeared, then he extended that same hand to me.

Gabe started shouting something. Something I couldn't bear to hear. I did my absolute best to ignore it and, before I had a chance to change my mind, I stepped forward and took his hand in mine.

"Sorry, babe," said Asmodeus.

The world started to fade away as he helliported back to the pit. The last thing I saw was Gabe's despairing face as the mortal world slipped away.

56

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You Can't Always Get What You Want

_Interstate 476, just past Allentown_

_New York State_

SLOWLY I FELT MYSELF SLIP between the border space between the mortal realm and the pit. Everything around me started to become grey and colourless, fading out to nothing. My fingers tingled as they usually did, and warmth rushed over me. It was like opening an oven; a dry, warm heat rushing into my face, washing over all my body, soaking me in its familiar fire.

But then something went terribly wrong. I snapped back as though a tether had run out, or a giant hand had grabbed me and yanked me back at the last minute.

With an explosion of fire and salt, I was back in the forest. Without Asmodeus, without Lucifer, standing at the centre of a massive sizzling pentagram burned into the ground.

Gabe stared at me, his wings rustling in confusion. He hadn't moved from the spot where I'd left him.

"What happened?" we both said at the same time.

Everything tumbled out at once. "I don't know," I said, stammering out words. "Lucifer helliported me and Asmodeus back to the pit, and I was almost there—I could feel it, _smell_ it, but then suddenly I'm back here." I looked down to the massive pentagram below me, smoke rising from the burned in lines. "I don't think he meant for that to happen."

"Then what _did_ happen?" asked Gabe.

With a flash, Lucifer reappeared. The image of him as an old man shifted almost instantly; tall, broad bat wings burst from his shoulders, his eyes pits of fire. "You dare defy me?"

I knelt before him, ducking my head low. "My Lord, I have no idea—"

He grabbed hold of my shoulder, and once again I felt the pull of a planar shift dragging me away from the mortal realm.

And once again, with a thunderous burst, I was thrown back.

Lucifer snarled as he rematerialized, his wings beating angrily in the breeze. "What trickery is this?"

"None of my doing," I said, honestly and genuinely. "I...have no idea what's keeping me here."

He hissed in the same way Asmodeus often would, fury and anger like a wounded snake. "There is only one force who can openly defy my wishes," he said, his forked tongue lashing. "And you..." slowly, slowly, the anger in his voice faded away. "You are not Him."

Ooooh.

Crap.

I looked at Gabe. He shrugged helplessly. "Wasn't me," he said.

"Well it wasn't _me,_ " I said, shrugging in return.

And then the most unexpected, most confusing thing happened.

Lucifer laughed.

He actually laughed. A proud, almost relieved laugh that went on for some time. When it finally ended, he shifted his form, letting his wings melt away and becoming, once again, the withered old man.

"Well, well, well" said Lucifer, clicking his tongue in amusement. "I suppose I've been played after all."

Nothing was making sense. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I believe," said Lucifer, a sneaky smile spreading over his face. "That the Heavenly choir would like you to spend a lot more than seven minutes in heaven, and you can take that however you like."

The very idea boggled the mind. "So you're saying," I said, cautiously, "that the _big guy_ is stopping you from taking me back to Hell?"

Lucifer rolled his shoulders quizzically. "That's my theory. Of course, it's probably all predicated on some kind of illogical nonsense—in this case, I'm guessing something along the lines of... _anyone who would willingly go to Hell for another person against their will does not deserve to be in Hell_ , but it's not like He and I ever really saw eye to eye on most matters, so...my guess is as good as yours."

Anything that could seemingly, genuinely stump Lucifer was probably something that was a little above my pay grade. "Okay," I said, simply, unsure of whatever else to say.

Lucifer waved his hand dismissively at me. "Well, I'm not about to question the dictums of my father, not that I could anyway, but while I am not able to accept you back into the fold just yet, I'm also more than capable of maintaining your banishment. Which, of course, is now more about pissing off my father than anything else."

"But what about our deal?" I asked, risking a furtive glance at Gabe. "I'm guessing the refunds policy on a resurrection is a little...grim."

"You didn't do anything wrong," said Lucifer, his tone sincere. "My legal team—which, by the way, I assure you is the best bar none—would inform you that I had failed to deliver on my side of the bargain, rather than you failing on yours. So the business of extracting my, ahem, _refund_ falls to me." He glanced at Gabe dispassionately. "Unfortunately, the accord between my father and I prevents me from harming his agents directly. Something, I'm sure, of which He is well aware."

Clever guy.

"Okay," I said, the faintest crack of hope growing in my voice. "So...where to from here?"

Lucifer considered that question with great gravity. I could sense his mind whirring, trying to find some obvious loophole. "There is an answer to this," he said, at length, seeming to reach some unshared conclusion in his mind. "But unfortunately, before I can share it with you, I need to consult with my legal team."

"Uhh..." I grimaced. This wasn't the worst thing to have happen, but I dared not truly hope. I didn't think we were out of the woods just yet. "How long will that take?"

"Some time," confessed Lucifer. "We will want to be completely certain of our conclusion before we take any action." He smiled coldly. "But I am a patient man, as you are probably aware."

"I am."

Lucifer smiled. "Very well then, the matter is settled. Good evening." He paused, as though communicating something important. "Keep the tattoo."

I opened my mouth to say more, to ask more questions, but he silenced me with a raised finger. Lucifer bowed slightly, reaching up as though to tip an invisible hat, then he vanished in a flash, leaving a faintly hissing pentagram behind where he stood, and the cold wind blew the dust of Juliet all around us for a moment before falling completely and utterly still.

57

****

****

But If You Try Sometimes...

_Interstate 476, just past Allentown_

_New York State_

IT WAS A LONG AND very quiet drive out of the Pinchot State Forest and back in the direction of New Jersey.

Gabe didn't really say anything and neither did I. I had no idea what was going through his brain as he drove, but he was going a lot more slowly on the way back, falling in line with traffic and driving far more safely and cautiously than I'd seen him so far. Only after we passed through Allentown did I dare say anything.

"Sooo..." I said, cautiously.

"Sooo," said Gabe.

That was really about where we were at. I was content to not say more, but after a moment, Gabe spoke up again.

"That was one hell of a moment," he said, his tone light and playful. "Dying is a bit of a trip."

"You said it," I said, but I knew that he was trying to get more from me and, given what had just happened, I probably owed it to myself to talk about it, let alone him. "But uh, yeah. I guess I...don't have to go back to Hell. And you don't have to go back to Heaven. So we're stuck here for now."

"For now," said Gabe, the ghost of a smile coming over his face. "I seem to recall this being what we wanted."

"What _you_ wanted," I said, but I couldn't resist. "And me as well."

Gabe overtook a sporty red car driven by some middle aged guy obviously trying to prove some kind of point to people he'd never met. "So I guess we're here, on this world, for now," he said.

"For now."

I reached up and rubbed my forehead, trying to force out the words we were both trying to get out. "...with me."

"With you."

All of a sudden, I was totally sick of beating around the bush. "I think I'm in love with you," I said, the words feeling like they were fighting the whole way to get out of my throat. "Which is the most insane thing I've ever said. I don't know how or why this is, or how it happened, but I think I'm in love with you. Which makes no sense!" I thumped my hand on the dashboard. "Lucifer's Teeth, this makes no sense to me all. I'm a _demon_ , we're supposed to be _biologically incapable_ of love. As in, whatever parts of our brains are supposed to control love, or the feeling of love? Our brains simply do not have that part." I tapped my finger on my temple. "So why the fuck is this happening?"

"I don't know," said Gabe, his voice possessed of a strange calm, a strange happiness. "But I love you too, Grace. And I'm okay with that."

Anger bubbled up within me. "How can you be okay with this?" I demanded, folding my arms in a way I knew was _entirely_ petulant and sulky. "How do you know this isn't some kind of long con? Some kind of trick from Lucifer? You know what he's like. How do you know I'm not sent here to manipulate you, to fuck with your head?"

Gabe turned the wheel calmly, overtaking another car. "You mean, apart from the whole crying and bringing me back to life, thing?"

"I wasn't crying," I spat. I didn't even know what I was saying anymore. "Or if I was, how do you know it wasn't part of my act?"

"Because. You didn't helliport away from me at the battle at the safe house. You stayed and fought alongside me."

"I couldn't," I said, flatly. "Banished from Hell, remember? Believe me, I wanted to follow Asmodeus into the pits and escape. But I couldn't. That doesn't count for shit."

He nodded understandingly, eyes fixed on the road. "Doesn't change a thing about how I feel."

The irresistible urge to lie came over me. To make him angry. To make him hate me. It made absolutely no sense given what I had just done, what we'd both just been through, and what I'd sacrificed to stay behind with him on the mortal realm—but I was angry. Angry with his decision. Angry with myself.

Because he deserved so much better than me.

"You were just a path to information to me," I said, hauntingly. "Just a way for Hell to get an insight into Heaven and their agents. Nothing more. I mean, c'mon...I was one of the only demons who was allowed into Heaven, no matter how briefly. That's a huge security risk. You have no idea that I didn't do something...betrayal-ish while I was up there."

"Funny. If you thought that you wouldn't be sitting there, telling me all this stuff. Trying to make me suspicious of you."

"You don't know what I've done," I said. I had to convince him. I had to push him away. The lies came quick and fast. "Before we met, I worked as a stripper."

"That's honest pay for honest work," said Gabe. "There's nothing evil about engaging in a consensual show for pay as long as you're happy to do it and safe while you do."

Obviously. I needed something bigger. "You don't understand. I wasn't just a stripper. That was a front. I was using it to have sex with guys. Lots of guys. Twenty. At least. Sometimes three, four at once. Just like... _bam bam bam_. Jizz _everywhere. And I. Mean. Everywhere._ "

"Your sexual history is no business of mine. I've had sex before I met you. It's fine."

How could I make him see? Make him understand I wasn't worth it? "This isn't even my face!" I jabbed my thumb at my cheek. "I tortured this person. I hurt her. I made her suffer and I loved it. Her soul is currently writhing in Hell and I was, until I left, primarily responsible for her suffering."

"You were doing your job. She was a bad person. She deserved her punishment."

"While I was working as a stripper," I said, balling my fists in anger and leaning toward him like I was going to punch his stupid goody face in. I summoned my best liars face. "I raped a guy. I tied him up and I fucked him in the arse while he was unconscious. I did it for no reason at all. I did it because I wanted to go home. To Hell. Where I belong!"

Gabe kind of smiled that weird, half-smile he did. "Nah, you didn't. Nice try though."

That actually, genuinely made me angry. "You fucking calling me a liar, holy boy?" I don't know why it pissed me off so much. It just did. Something about him not thinking I'd tell him the truth really...confused me.

"Yup." Gabe took a hand off the wheel and touched his lips with his index finger. "When you kiss someone, you know if they're good or evil. Demons and angels aren't that different. I have the same ability. If you'd _really_ done that I would know."

I stopped, frozen still. "Wait," I said, trying to process this. Of course. He was talking about the house party. "You...'ve known I was evil or good this whole time?"

"Yeah."

The question sounded utterly insane but I had to ask it. "Am I...evil?"

He said nothing, eyes briefly flicking back to the road.

"I told you!" I drew my fist back. "I told you, I'm evil, and you need to get out of here. Just...just leave me alone, you stupid bastard! That way you might be able to get back into Heaven after a while—you're only not there because of _me!_ "

"When we kissed, you weren't good," said Gabe, looking back to me finally. "And you were definitely on the evil side. But there was...something else. Something about you that was different. When I used to hunt demons I killed them by the dozen. They stank of wickedness. Reeked of it. Rotten to the core. But with you...not the same."

No. That wasn't true. "You were only sensing that because of Damien," I said. "Just...because I had done a good deed. Because of that."

Gabe gave me a sly smile. "If you recall," he said, "we had—ahem— _kissed_ a little bit before that."

I searched my memory. Had we? No. I'd grabbed him, in the closet, and...my eyes flicked down to his pants. "That counts?"

"It counts," he said. "If the receiving person has the power. It only works for the giver if it's lip-to-lip." He smirked a little, throwing my own words back at me. "I don't make the rules, buddy."

Shit.

I put my fist down, letting my arm flop down by my side. The car zoomed on. "What does this mean?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," said Gabe, smiling fondly at me. "But I think we should find out. Together."

That sounded really nice.

58

****

****

You Just Might Find...

_Frost Hall_

_New Jersey City University_

_New Jersey_

WE PULLED UP AT THE university car park and opened the doors. It felt weird to be back in this place, as though nothing was wrong, going back to meet up with Laila as though we'd just been out for a shopping trip and were coming back with chocolates and beer.

Gabe smiled at me. "Laila's car, back safe and sound," he said, clicking the lock button on the remote.

"Honestly, I was expecting that thing to get trashed," I said, giving the car a fond little pat. "It's a mighty soul."

He chuckled. "You didn't give it some kind of Hellish blessing, did you? Feed it full of demonic power and infuse it with invincibility?"

"Nah," I said. "Historically, giving vehicles souls has proved to be quite a problem. For a whole bunch of reasons." I grinned. "Hey, we did something nice for Laila, which, you know, I'm okay with. Even if she is totally actually going to Hell when she gets her arse killed."

"Are you?" asked Gabe, seemingly curious. "Okay with it, I mean. That's kind of against your demonic mandate..."

"Sure. I'm okay with it. Lucifer and I have a complicated relationship now, I guess." We began walking back to Laila's room together, side by side. "I mean...I think I'm still a nasty kinky demon, but...I'm okay with being nice to people. Even if they are total bitches themselves."

Gabe reached out his hand, touching mine. Instinctively, and far quicker than I was ready for, I slid my fingers around his, giving a firm squeeze. "Well, I'm okay with that too," he said, smiling at me.

I smiled back. And I felt totally okay with things. Gently I squeezed his hand. "So," I asked, curious about something. "Back at the party. You walked out to meet me. Were you were trying to distracting me from Damien?"

"Not really," confessed Gabe, "I just wanted to talk to you. There was just something about you that I wanted to investigate. Had I known what you were, well..." He snickered, squeezing back. "I don't think I would have been so cavalier about the cupboard thing."

"Cupboard or broom closet?" I giggled, unable to resist. "Whatever it was."

"Whatever it was," Gabe echoed.

He stopped, right out front of the lift up to Laila's place, turning himself to face me. I did the same thing, reaching out and grabbing his other hand, holding it too. We stood there for a moment, holding hands and just staring at each other, fondly, smiling.

"This is nice," said Gabe, sliding a little closer to me. "This is actually really nice. I know it's not _exactly_ what I figured would happen when I went to Damien's party, but I gotta say...this has turned out pretty great for me. Mmm. Pretty great."

"Pretty great," I echoed, unable to fight a big smile, shifting a little closer to him, too. "Sort of a solid eight of ten."

"Mmm, seven point five," he argued, smirking teasingly.

"Plenty of blame on both sides." I stuck out my tongue. "I'm sorry for everything, excluding me and my actions."

He snorted playfully. "Sounds about right for demons." Gabe tilted his head. "Lucifer mentioned a tattoo...do I need to be concerned about that?"

"Nah," I said. "Maybe I'll show you..."

Gabe waggled an eyebrow. "Is it in a sex place?"

"I wish. Unfortunately no. But...hey. You might have to inspect me fully. Who knows what other tattoos I might have. It's important to check."

"I think I can be okay with that. Okay. It's a solid eight out of ten now."

I moved his hands until they were settled on my hips, and I pushed my body up against his, until my face was right near his. "Maybe I can bargain you up a bit later," I said, my voice dripping with silky tease. "I mean...I'm sure Laila won't mind if we borrow her bed."

"It's a bit small," said Gabe, leaning down and bumping his nose against mine, the smell of his goodness drifting into my nose, and for the first time I actually found it quite pleasant.

"I guess it doesn't have to be on her bed," I said, my tone demure. "She has plenty of floor space...and a nice desk that really needs breaking in, if you know what I mean. Give it some fingernail scratches." I looked to my side, back to the car park. "We also still have her car keys."

He snickered, his warm breath washing over my face. "Your idea of a fun time with me is defiling everything Laila owns?"

"Something like that," I said. "That sounds..." I hesitated, then managed a little smile. "Bearable."

He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against mine. My power sensed his goodness; sensed the genuineness in his heart, the light and power, the angelic might in his blood.

I kissed back, gripping him tightly and squeezing.

We stood there for ages. I wasn't sure how long. A really long time. Just hugging and kissing, in full view of the student body, arm in arm and lips locked, bodies pressed together.

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt good.

59

****

****

You Get What You Need

_Throne Room_

_Hell_

__

_Epilogue_

ASMODEUS WRUNG HIS HANDS NERVOUSLY, lying face down before Lucifer, his tail lashing like a tiny whip. The Throne Room was an area that was off-limits to the likes of him, and this was...terrifying, really. The idea of sharing space with such a powerful being as the Prince of Lies was enough to make him shit himself.

"So," said Lucifer, purring softly as he spoke, shifting in his chair. "I think that turned out quite well, don't you agree?"

"I definitely agree that it did," said Asmodeus, nodding emphatically.

"What if I told you," asked Lucifer, his tone curious, "that it _didn't_ work out very well at all?"

"Then of course it did not," said Asmodeus, lowering his gaze. "I only want to serve you, My Lord. I only want to execute your will. To make you feel good. To be your agent."

Sighing in frustration, Lucifer stood out of his throne, gliding over to Asmodeus, reaching down and scooping up the trembling imp in a hand. "I know," he said. "But you must understand, little pet. That's why I wanted Grace to be here. Because she was not afraid to question me when there was justification for it."

Asmodeus didn't say anything, keeping his head down.

"Typical," said Lucifer, gently tossing him into the air. "Good help is just so hard to find."

Asmodeus flapped his wings, taking flight, quickly zooming down so that he was below Lucifer's vision. "What do you want of me next, My Lord?" he asked, voice trembling slightly as he spoke, the fear unable to be banished.

To that question Lucifer simply considered, touching his chin and scratching it thoughtfully. "Well, Grace's position in Hell is currently vacant," he said. "Feel free to claim her lands and her souls. She won't need them anymore."

"What if she comes back?" asked Asmodeus, unable to keep the greed out of his voice, tempered by fear.

"Then I'll arrange something to make her happy. Do not concern yourself about Grace's possessions, imp. There is so much I could offer one such as her in order to make her day."

Smiling like a jackal, Asmodeus nodded his head emphatically. "Of course you can, Dark Master. I have full and total confidence in you."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at that and said nothing.

"I'm..." Asmodeus struggled to get the words out. "Just curious about what your next move is, My Lord. Where do we go from here?"

To that, Lucifer only smiled. "My needs are simple," he said, reaching down and giving Asmodeus a little pat on the head like a dog. "You'll see. Grace has a huge part to play in events in the future, she just doesn't know it yet."

Confused, Asmodeus could only lower his gaze once again. "As you wish, Dark Lord," he said, wings fluttering gently behind him. "What is your command for me?"

Lucifer purred like a cat, obviously toying with an idea, a wide smile spreading over his face. "Do you," he asked, "still have contact with the human known as Laila McDonald?"

_To be continued in Grace 2, now available!_

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