“After all these years,” he continues, “two thousand plus years, and now you’re giving in. Why? Because of Judas Iscariot, the very man who continually sells you out time after time after time? If that’s not the supreme irony, I don’t know what is, Jesus. What does your father say about this, about his son the Sodomite? Maybe he would’ve preferred you celibate, like him?”
I refuse to let his words penetrate my mind. I’m beyond being hurt by anything he can say. Let him have this moment. It’s the last he shall have of this sort. I’m here for a higher cause.
“I’ve not yet named my price.” I eye him warily. “Do you not wish to know what it is before you agree to this?” There’s no doubt we both know of what I speak. But he must agree to my terms, or there shall be nothing. Nothing at all.
“All right, I’ll bite, princess, what’s your price?” he asks cockily, his hand reaching toward my crotch, but I manage to halt it before it can reach its destination, push it aside, away from me.
“My price is this. Tomorrow night, you will save Judas.”
“Save him? From what, your father?” He laughs, obviously amused at my words. “Or are the outraged citizens preparing to lynch him? Do you think my merry little band of homophobes hate him that much? Well, it is Judas we’re talking about, maybe they do.” He runs the fingers of one pale hand through his platinum tresses, tossing his head in disdain as I, once again, do not take his bait.
“You’ll make sure he gets away from here safely, I don’t care how you have to do it. But you will keep him from dying. At anyone’s hand. Do you understand me, Lucifer?”
“Oh, I understand you,” he responds, his eyes seeming to glow as from an inner hellish light. “I understand you all too well. To save Iscariot’s mortal hide from a beating, or worse, you’ll give up your own. To me. Do I have that about right?”
“Pretty much,” I reply. “He has to be completely safe from harm, and well away from here,” I continue adamantly. “No negotiation on that point. If he is not safe, and if you cannot prove it, then the deal we strike is therefore null and void.”
“Goodness, you talk such legal mumbo jumbo.” He laughs, but in the blink of an eye, he draws a parchment from his inside pocket, and presents it to me. Am I surprised at his thoroughness? Not at all. He is Lucifer, and not without tricks of his own. I read the document carefully, make sure it covers everything I wish it to.
It does. I read it a second time, and then a third, just to make sure he doesn’t slide anything else into it, that’s it, just what I have agreed to and no more. And he has agreed to everything I demand. No less. When I’m satisfied the agreement is indeed airtight and unbreakable, I take the writing implement he hands to me, and sign my name.
And now it’s done. I’ve made a pact with the devil. But on my terms.
He seems to be rather pleased with himself, like a schoolboy who’s been promised his first lay. I feel suddenly tired, as I sway for a moment, sitting abruptly on the cot. He doesn’t even attempt to kiss me now. He knows there’s no need—he has me where he wants me. And I have him in quite the same position myself.
“Judas safe first, then we discuss where and when.” My voice sounds more sure than it is. No, I’m not having second thoughts, I am simply very weary suddenly. And desirous of sleep.
“As you wish.” Not being the kind to take a subtle hint, he bends over me, his lips close to my ear, as he continues relentlessly, “Tell me something, does he have a very huge cock? Did it hurt at first when he fucked you with it? I assumed you bottomed for him, that’s the only thing that makes sense, you being a virgin and all.”
My hands ball themselves into fists but I keep them at my side. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him do this to me. I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!
“Begone,” I look him straight in the eye, without pretense that what may pass between us is anything but a business arrangement. Nothing more or less. All I want to do right now is sleep. That’s all.
He has other ideas, grabbing me as if I were even up for grabs, his lips hard and firm against my own—such a far cry from those of my sweet Jude. I push him away, spitting the taste of him from my lips. He only laughs. “I knew this time would be fun.” He chuckles. “You two…are priceless…” And without another word, he’s gone. And I’m left to the solitude of this jail cell, and my very turbulent thoughts, for the remainder of the night.
Chapter Thirty: Judas