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I spend the next hour inspecting and approving the latest tools designed to creatively inflict agony upon the damned. Each spike-covered contraption and soul-skinning blade provides satisfying proof of the commitment to suffering I demand from our vendors.
By the time I complete the inspection, I’m feeling much more centered and in control, the pleasures of reciprocal torment grounding me once more. Elara’s disruption now seems a trivial thing. I know who I am—whatI am. Bax Daemonus, scourge of mortal souls and relentless torturer. No gentle-hearted mortal will change that.
ChapterSeven
Elara
Over the next few days, I begin implementing my proposed changes across Bax’s department. It’s an uphill battle, but I’m determined to drag this office into the 21st century, kicking and screaming if I must.
Bax fights me at every turn. The first time I show up with a team to overhaul the Archives, he’s nowhere to be found.
After that fiery incident, and then the cake incident, I’ve tried to remain professional. But now this is about work.
I search his office, the cavernous Audits Department, even the fiery pits of Bookkeeping. But the infernal demon is conspicuously absent.
Finally, I threaten his sniveling minions with the Rack until one cracks.
“Mr. Daemonus took a sudden sabbatical, milady. Urgent soul-harvesting duties Aboveworld. He sends his deepest regrets.”
I fume silently. Soul-harvesting? More like intentionally evading me. But if he thinks a little vacation will deter me, he’s dead wrong.
When he finally returns more than a week later, I’m elbow-deep in his precious bookcases, meticulously reorganizing the haphazard collection of ancient tomes and modern novelties. I glance up as Bax materializes in a plume of smoke, his arrival announcing itself with a gust of wind that sends loose papers fluttering.
“Elara,” he growls, his voice a rough rasp that immediately sends shivers down my spine. Fudge, I thought I was over this. Apparently not.
Bax strides over, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that causes my heart to skip a beat. “What do you think you’re doing?”
I look at him, unafraid. “Improving efficiency,” I retort, refusing to back down. Or maybe it’s because of that tense moment we shared and the fact he just shut me out completely. “These books are a mess. How are you supposed to find anything in here?”
“That’s just it, angel…you aren’t supposed to.” He grins, fangs and all, that devilish handsomeness almost disarming me.
I grit my teeth. Not only has he been avoiding me, but if this keeps up, six months will pass, I’ll have gotten nothing done, and I wouldn’t put it past Lucifer to just rescind any salary he’s paid. That would be evil. But he’s the Devil after all. Evil pulses through his veins.
“Your order,” I say, steadying my voice, “is not a logical one.”
Bax’s gaze smolders on me, and there’s a moment of tense silence. Then, with a wave of his hand, the books I’ve painstakingly organized shuffle themselves back into their original places. My jaw drops as I watch years of knowledge rearrange itself at his command.
“There,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Back to normal.”
I bite back the urge to retort.
Over the next few days, I counter each of Bax’s delay tactics with ruthless efficiency. If he doesn’t order equipment we need, I put through the orders myself. When he locks down the system and resets all the passwords, I access my remote backup drives. He may be an all-powerful demon, but I’m no amateur either.
Bax simmers with resentment at the fact I still find ways to move forward. It’s a snail’s pace but with Lucifer himself mandating these changes from on high, even Bax can’t override me completely. Instead, one morning I arrive to find my requisition forms have been “accidentally” set on fire and that the printer spits sulfur every time I try to print anything.
I take it all in stride. If pranks are the worst he’s got, I can handle it. Though his glowering presence provides endless distraction. It’s hard to focus whenever the privacy of the frosted glass disappears and those burning eyes follow my every move.
Three days later, after an extended period of bitter power struggles, Lucifer calls for a mandatory meeting in Hell’s grand hall. All the department heads are required to attend, and, despite my reluctance, I know I can’t miss it. I might not be a department head, but I’m assistant to one. And I need some change. Every step I take to make things better around here, Bax steps right in and thwarts my efforts. If I can have an audience with Lucifer…
I cringe. The last thing I want to do is to run crying to the big boss, but what other option do I have? It’s either that or this will all be futile. I’ll lose my contract and possibly my salary.
Straightening my skirt, I tilt my chin up and square my shoulders as I head to the meeting.
Hell’s grand hall is a monstrous cavern, an imposing sight that could make the most hardened of souls feel insignificant. The vast expanse is filled with department heads, each as unique and terrifying as the realm they are from. I stand amidst this sea of power, trying my best to look unfazed.
Bax is late, of course. But when he does arrive, he makes quite an entrance. The grand doors swing open with a thunderous clatter, and Bax strides in, oozing confidence and contempt. His eyes find me and he grins, a sardonic smile that sends a delicious shiver down my spine.
The meeting begins. It’s tedious, filled with hellish bureaucracy I struggle to comprehend. Lucifer, in all his wicked glory, presides over the meeting with an air of bored detachment, but I fight myself to focus, to take it all in, and ask questions.
