Hell On Heels
Chapter 1
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked my father. He had a deck of playing cards laid out on his massive mahogany desk and he was putting tiny dots on the backs of the aces, queens, kings and jacks.
“It’s Thursday,” he replied.
“Yes…and?” I flopped down on the plush leather couch and waited.
“That bastard Hemingway won last week. That was unacceptable,” he huffed. He put down the red pen and picked up a blue one.
“So you’re going to cheat?”
He gave me a smile that had melted the hearts of thousands of women. Literally. “But of course.”
Being the daughter of Satan had its challenges. This was only one of many. I knew that explaining to him that cheating at poker was wrong would be like running up the down escalator for eternity, so I kept my mouth shut. Furthermore I was fairly sure that Hemingway cheated too. Poker Night in Hell usually consisted of Ernest Hemingway, Mr. Rogers, my dad and occasionally Mother Teresa. Since all of the players, my father excluded, resided in Heaven they basically took a bi-weekly field trip to Hell for game night. For real.
He finished his deceitful art project and gave me his full attention. “So, my beautiful girl, are you ready?”
I picked at my nail polish and considered my answer. Pleading had not worked, nor had crying or throwing a tantrum. Actually, the tantrum was a total bust. We ended up laughing because it was so far out of my character and I sucked at it. I suppose I could try the truth…
“Dad, being deported from Hell is not my idea of a good time. I’m not ready. I have no real power yet and I know I’ll disappoint you.”
“Dixie, the only thing that disappoints me is that you will be graduating from Demon College as the valedictorian and your obsessive need to do good.” He sighed dramatically and ran his hands through his jet black hair.
He was gorgeous. He was evil. And I loved him.
“Your sisters…”
“My sisters are thousands of years old. College didn’t even exist when they were of age.”
“Point,” he agreed. “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t learn what you wanted and then flunk the tests on purpose. We have a reputation to maintain.”
“I know.” I let my head fall back and stared at the mirrored ceiling. What the…? When did he have the ceiling in his office mirrored? The reality was too much to take in. I shut my eyes and tried without success to block out what I’d just seen. I was from the most over-sexed family in history and I was a twenty-one year old virgin.
“I’ve done my best to help you past that little hump. No pun intended,” Satan said innocently.
“Get out of my head, Dad,” I snapped.
He wasn’t lying, and he intended every pun he made. He’d thrown the cream of the crop at me. Of course they were smarmy and way too old. The last Demon he’d set me up with had ridden on the Mayflower, had no clue who Maroon Five was and smelled funky.
“Dixie, darling, all of your sisters popped their…”
“Hell to the NO,” I yelled as I slapped my hands over my ears. It was beyond unnecessary to hear about the sexual exploits of my sisters, the Seven Deadly Sins. It was bad enough that one of them was named Lust.
“Dixie, I’m just trying to help,” he pouted.
“Look, Dad…there is a guy. And, um…well.”
There actually was a guy—an amazing perfect guy, but I had no intention of telling my dad about him. He would ruin it. My dad thought it was hilarious to threaten the lives of all my sisters’ paramours. And what did it matter anyway? I was leaving. All Demon Princesses had to do their time on Earth and my number had come up. The only thing that made it bearable was that I’d get to see my cousin Astrid. She was very pregnant and furious that no one could tell her what the gestation time was for a half-Vampyre half-Demon baby. She’d apparently caused so much property damage that her mate Ethan had everything breakable in the compound nailed down.
“Do I know him?” my father inquired casually.
My stomach clenched. Nothing my dad did was casual. “Nope.” I smiled and stood up. “And you’re not going to. I don’t like him anymore.”
“This happened in the thirty seconds since you announced his existence?”
“Yes. Yes it did.”
“Dixie, Dixie, Dixie, you are so like your mother.”
Considering no one had the testicles to tell me who my mother was, his comparison drove me to grind my teeth. “And that’s a bad thing?” I challenged, hoping for once he’d slip up and give me a clue.
He paused and watched me for a moment. “Not good. Not bad. Interesting.”