She thought for a moment. It wasn't as if he had forgotten to pay a parking ticket or lied to his wife. He had raped and killed innocent women. If she had fallen victim to him, or known someone who had, she would have been vindicated to know he would spend eternity burning as he hung by his balls. In a way, she was relieved to know there was retribution for the wicked. Evil people would pay for their misdeeds.
"Would you want that man to meet you in heaven? Do you think a man like that deserves to be allowed through the gates?"
She paused. The man did deserve to pay for his misdeeds.
"Don't hate me. I do what I must," he said defiantly.
"I don't hate you."
"Then tell me what you're feeling."
She shrugged. "I don't know … I guess I feel sorry for you in a way."
"Sorry for me?"
"Yes."
"Why?" He stopped walking and turned to face her.
"You are forced to handle the scum of the earth every single day."
He sighed as he pushed a stray hair beneath her halo.
"I'm being tortured in my own special way, but you … you can bring me the happiness I desire."
She was shocked a being so strong could make himself so vulnerable. But was his candidness enough?
There were the sounds of crushing pebbles, and she turned. A little red-skinned gnome-looking creature stood staring at her with one eye. His legs were bowed and his torso seemed to lean precariously to the left, as if threatening to escape from his bent extremities.
"Excuse me, sir?" The gnome said in a tinny voice.
"Yes?" The Devil turned around.
The man pushed out his curved leg and bowed. "We have a new arrival."
"Who?"
"A woman. She killed her family for the insurance money. She and her boyfriend were planning on running away to the Bahamas, but as they were getting ready to leave, she was hit by a car."
"Her poor kids … " the Devil said under his breath. "Put her in the waiting room." His shoulders fell as the little man went to his business.
She was surprised the damned woman bothered him.
"Go," she urged.
He looked at her with a shrewd expression. "What are you saying?"
"Go punish the woman, be done with your torture."
He smiled wickedly and his eyes blazed. "What do you think I should do to her?"
"Wait," Sarah called after the little man. "How did she kill them, her family?"
The man turned. "She shot her husband and drowned the rest."
She looked at the Devil. "Do you remember Sisyphus? And how Zeus sentenced him to push the rock up the hill? As he neared the top, the rock would tumble down, forcing him to begin again?"
"I like what you are thinking." He grinned at her with a mischievous look in his eyes.
Sarah turned back to the little man. "Make a large pool in her cell. Drop her in the center and make her swim to the side. Every time she nears the edge, have a whirlpool bring her back to the center. When she can no longer swim, let her feel the terror of drowning, but bring her back to start her interminable task again."
The Devil's grin sparkled in the flickering light of the flames. "I knew there was something about you. You learn quickly."
"You agree with my decision?"
"An angel's justice … .Clever and justified," he said, nodding. "Gregorian, go to your task."
The little man limped off.
The Devil stepped closer and took her in his arms. "What do you feel about what you have just done?"
She grinned wickedly. "You are right, if you only think of what they have done to be damned, then their pain is warranted."
"They become insignificant in a way. Don't they?"
"The only part that bothers me is that by being the punisher we are as damned as they are."
"Someone must enact the punishment. I am the chosen one. God can't get his hands dirty."
Was he the chosen one? Or was he a monster for the things he was forced to do? Was she a monster because of the punishment she had chosen for the damned woman?
She didn't feel like a monster.
Their feet silently traversed the black ground which led them further into the depths of Hell. As they walked down the fire lined corridor, he broke the silence. "I'm sorry. Everything here is trial by fire."
"Isn't that just called life?"
"Only to those who have had it hard. I have been watching you for a long time, dealing with your job, your friends, and jumping into relationships with terrible lovers. You've had it harder than most."
"I guess you're right."
How long had he been watching? Had he seen Bill strike her? Had he seen her running away, instead of fighting back? Would the Devil reject her for being so weak, for being less than perfect?
"Be thankful," he continued. "Your strength has brought you here."
"Strength or curiosity?"
A smile crept over her face. He didn't concentrate on her past. Instead, he cared about the person her past had helped to create. Though he was the Devil, he was neither a monster nor a saint-he was just an imperfect being trying to do his best.
They approached a large onyx door. "I'm sure it was a bit of both, but without strength and conviction, you would have never stepped through the flames with me."
He looked at her with lust-filled eyes. "I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you." The heat of his words warmed her as she wrestled with the decision she would have to make.
Opening the massive door, he led her through. The walls were covered with paintings of Victorian gardens and scenes of sunrises on snow-capped mountains. "Welcome to my bedroom."
The room was filled with black furniture. A black velvet chaise sat in the corner, next to a silver-mirrored table. Upon it was a silver candelabrum with tapered black candles that flickered with a ghostly purple flame. In the center of the room an oversized bed, covered in black satin and luxurious white pillows, called to her.
He walked her to the bed and motioned for her to sit down.
She pointed at the fire crackling cheerily in a small hearth in the corner. "You have a fire place in your room?"
"I guess I just enjoy fire-the way it can be both a comfort and a fear-a bringer of death and life." He walked to the flames as she trailed behind. "Fire isn't evil. It just serves a function, doing what it was created to do."
"You mean like you?"
"I only administer the punishment. The damned commit the crimes that bring them here-they have already made the choice to live in Hell-I only give them what they have asked for. But fire-it's wild, fierce, and uncontrollably impulsive. Fire is like you."
She laughed. He was right. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Devil."
"I know, but you act like you know me. Who are you underneath this mask?" She caressed the red skin of his cheek.
"I'm just a man … a man who is in love with an angel."
"I'm no angel," she said, pushing him onto his black satin bed. She climbed on top of his muscular body. Her heart raced as she ran her hands down his chest and tugged at his nipples. He groaned, and her wetness grew.
"I can see … " She cut him off as she gently tugged at his mouth with her teeth.
Licking his lips, she could taste smoke. He returned the kiss, his lips strong, almost violent as they searched her for permission.
She let him take control, moaning as he kissed a trail down the skin of her neck and along the top lace of her corset. Reaching up, he slipped the straps from her shoulder. Taking off her wings, he threw them to the floor.
He looped a finger through the tiny bow at the bottom of her corset and pulled. Slowly, he undid each lace until the garment fell from her body and landed on the floor next to her wings.
The pressures of her trappings were finally gone.
He sucked in his breath as he cupped his hand over her exposed breast. "You are even more glorious than I had imagined."
She could feel his stiffness penetrating her dampened panties.
She took her time unbuttoning his white linen shirt; kissing his chest as each button released, exposing more of his red skin. The last button sat just below his navel and she took her time here, sucking and nibbling. With each gentle pain, he moaned.
In all of her life, she would never have thought she would be a mistress of the Devil.
"Take off your halo."
She put her fingers into the row of pins in her hair. She had never been an angel, and now that she was in his arms, she was never at risk of becoming one. "Do you want to help?"
He laughed. "I think you should take that off yourself."
She ripped the halo from her hair and threw the circle to the ground. As she flipped her hair over her shoulder, she twisted her body. He rubbed against her, his hardness palpable through his leather pants.
He sat up and pulled her breast to his mouth, caressing her nipple with the soft flesh of his tongue as his hands traced the lines of her body.