The Road To Hell. Jackie Kessler

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СКАЧАТЬ type of trash is humans.”

      “My soul,” I said through clenched teeth. “It’s clean.”

      “You entice humans with thoughts of lust. Your work is in the name of Sin.”

      Yeah, well, old habits die hard. After four thousand years as a Seducer, what was I going to do, be a telemarketer? “Not Sin. Entertainment.”

      “A fine line.”

      “Maybe. Still a line. You can’t claim me.”

      He growled, deep and low in his chest. “You talk tough for a mortal slut. You don’t have your Fury friend with you to keep you safe this time.”

      My throat constricted as I remembered the softest brush of lips on my own. Just thinking of Meg brought angry tears to my eyes. “Don’t need her protection.”

      “You think not?”

      “You can’t claim me for Hell. My soul’s clean.” Benefit of being only thirty days old in mortal years: that’s not a lot of time to wreak havoc.

      His eyes narrowed, and for a moment I glimpsed his true form swimming beneath his false human shell—charred black flesh, white holes for eyes, a maw crammed with razor-blade teeth. Then he pulled my head up until I was sitting up straight in the chair. He spun me around to face him, his hand still tangled in my hair.

      “Old rules are bending, breaking.”

      “I got that,” I said, far calmer than I had any right to be. “Seems the nefarious are encouraging mortals to kill themselves. What, business is too slow?”

      “Business is booming.” His dark gaze held me, explored me. “You mortals make excuses for your sins, think you can talk your way out of damnation. As if understanding why you commit certain actions allows you to forgive the action itself.”

      A demonic therapy session. Spare me. “The end doesn’t exactly justify the means. I know that.”

      “The mortal coil is steeped in evil. Murder because of disrespect. Genocide because of disgust.” He leered. “Lust because of entertainment.”

      My heart, already careening at marathon speed, started rocketing at a pace just short of cardiac arrest. Bless me, I hated being afraid. I really preferred causing fear—which is hard to do when you’re short, cute, and human. Maybe I should start carrying a big gun. “You know what they say. The world’s going to Hell in a handbasket.”

      “The trip is taking too long. No more sitting back, waiting for humans to die before collecting their souls for the Pit. We’re encouraging them along.”

      I pushed aside my fear to sniff my disdain. Even an ex-demon has sin standards. “You assholes are cheating.”

      “Times are changing, slut.” For a moment, his eyes closed in on themselves, faded to something old, worn. He released my hair. “We can’t let the world be more evil than the Abyss.”

      I heard the implication behind his words, and I shivered. People think that the Devil is the King of Hell. They’re wrong. The Devil—the nameless antithesis of the Almighty—has been around way, way longer than the celestials or the nefarious. The only thing keeping It from destroying all of humanity, and the world itself, is Hell. Torturing souls amuses the fuck out of the Devil.

      At least, it used to.

      Wrapping my arms around myself, I said, “So your King is changing the rules. Keeping things lively.”

      “You have no idea just how much has changed.” He shook himself like a dog, regained his malefic ire as he smiled a shark’s grin, all teeth and appetite. “And that means, slut, we can influence your actions more so than ever before. To put it in language even you could understand, we can seduce you.”

      Arrogant prick. “You really have to work on your pick-up lines.”

      “What’s that pithy saying the mortals like to throw around? Oh, yes. ‘The devil made me do it.’ Quaint.” His eyes gleamed. “And now, rather accurate.”

      I swallowed thickly. If the infernal really were going to be actively influencing people, encouraging them to live fast and die young, life was about to get much more interesting. Mental note: Start thinking pure thoughts.

      Oh, puke, who was I kidding?

      “I say with supreme confidence that I’ll see you in Hell, slut. But you know,” he added, “the Pit is a better place without you and your Fury friend.”

      I frowned, wondering what he meant by that. Of course Meg was in Hell. That’s where the Furies hung their hats, like most creatures who weren’t inherently Good. If not in Hell, where else could she be?

      Stop. Don’t think about her. She betrayed you, left you to die.

      Her voice, like a kiss, in my mind: We all do what we must.

      “Until next time, slut.” Grinning like he’d eaten all the kids in a candy shop, the Arrogant disappeared in a puff of sulfur.

      There’s nothing worse than a demon with a grudge. And a little dick.

      Chapter 2

      Paul’s Apartment

      Three hours and eight hundred dollars later, I was chin-deep in a delicious bath, thinking very dirty thoughts as my body got squeaky clean. I’d actually netted more than a thousand today, but Circe’s thirst had burned a hole in my wallet. The girl could drink like a parched fish. After our boozefest, I’d put her in a cab and paid the driver well, asking him to make sure she got into her apartment safe and sound.

      This humanity crap was really crimping my style. Had to be the soul. Next thing you know, I’d be wearing a halo. Gah.

      Paul’s bathtub had all the necessary amenities: frothy bubbles that tickled my nose, and a handheld shower massager that tickled me in much more sensitive spots. Dotting the corners of the tub were pale tea candles, their wicks glowing the soft, deep yellow of an overripe mango on the verge of spoiling.

      Yum.

      I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the faint scent of lavender. Whoever invented aromatherapy candles should have his own national holiday. Granted, lavender wasn’t as soothing as a cup of hot tea, or slurping the marrow out of a femur, but it did fine in a pinch. (Not that I’d done any marrow slurping in quite a while, but hey—a gal can reminisce.)

      The only thing missing was Paul Hamilton himself. He was still at work, busy playing vice cop, instead of home with me, playing Cabin Boy and soaping my back. I sighed, petulantly splashed some water over the rim. Figured that the one day this week we were supposed to be home at the same time, he was running late.

      Well, at least I had my spiffy water buddy, complete with three settings. Speaking of which…

      Ummmmmm…

      Just as I was turning the dial from “light spray/pulsing massage” up to “orgasmic,” something outside the bathroom went thump.

      I shut off the shower attachment СКАЧАТЬ