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ChapterThree
Bax
Istalk through the shadowed halls early this morning, a steaming mug of hellbrew in one hand and a stack of falsified records in the other. Another day of “creative auditing” awaits.
I’m running on fumes, having tossed and turned all night, haunted by thoughts of a little do-gooder who has come to upend my department.
As I reach my office, my mind inevitably drifts to her yet again—the fearless mortal who dared waltz into my domain yesterday proposing “improvements.” As if eons of finely tuned torture craft require adjustments from a newly arrivedhuman! The notion is laughable. This mortal thinks she can waltz in here and tell me how to run my department? I don’t care how shapely her legs are. No human gives orders to an archdemon.
Yet, try as I might, I cannot banish the intriguing Elara Hunt from my mind. Her boldness in challenging me directly was…unexpected. And oddly enticing.
I avoided the meddlesome mortal all of yesterday, ducking into portals whenever I caught a whiff of her intoxicating aura. Usually, I savor a challenge, but that human is trouble wrapped in a delectable package of pure, innocentgoodwill.
I round the corner, lost in thought, when, as if summoned by a pentagram, Elara appears right in my path. I nearly spill scalding coffee down my crisp white shirt.
“Mr. Daemonus!” Elara says, glasses glinting and a blinding smile on her face. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Perfect. I was just thinking my day could use a little more torment.”
Unperturbed, that innocent smile doesn’t even falter as she taps the folder tucked under her arm. “I’ve prepared a thorough presentation on streamlining your department and updating protocols to align with corporate standards.”
Her words come across as hellish nonsense. Just a slew of sounds merging, solely because I choose not to hear them. I narrow my eyes at her in a scowl, but she powers on.
“This will only take an hour of your time.” Long eyelashes bat at me. Wonder how she’d feel if I singed them right off. Her eyebrows too. And that precious hair on her head. “Lucifer stressed how crucial your cooperation is in implementing these changes.”
I bristle at the casual use of my boss’s name. Exactly how chummy did she get with him during her interview? Prince of Hell or not, we all know Lucifer has a weakness for mortals.
When I don’t immediately respond, thisElarapresses on. “I know change can be challenging, but modernizing these outdated methods will increase productivity and accuracy tenfold.”
I blink slowly, letting out a low chuckle. “Oh, Elara.” The nerve of this human. I barely resist the urge to torch her damn folder. “My auditing systems are perfectedmasterpieces.”
“Be that as it may, Mr. Daemonus, corporate demands an overhaul.” Her expression softens slightly, a small smile spreading across her lips as her voice gets small. “I promise, this transition will make your job easier, not harder.” She squints at me behind her glasses, her face scrunching into a pleading pout only mortals Aboveworld would fall for.
All this innocent goodness…wouldn’t be surprised if I break out in hives.
Her smile doesn’t crack as she waits for my answer and I’m half-tempted to conjure a horde of paperwork gremlins to drown her in a sea of administrative chaos, to give her a taste of the ‘ease’ she’s promising. But, perhaps if I indulge her whims, she’ll scurry back to the mortal realm on her own once she realizes how out of her depth she is down here.
“One hour,” I bite out. “My office.”
And so here I am, forced to endure “orientation” from this Elara as she outlines her “improvements” to streamline productivity. Standing at the accursed blackboard she doesn’t even flinch at the billows of chalk dust I specifically increased with a flick of my claw to stuff her poor little lungs.
Smiling at me, scribbling her absurd ideas about “efficiency” and “proper auditing practices” all over my departmental blackboard without a care. She should be choking on the clouds of particulate annoyance I conjured just to drive the point home that she’s not welcome.
Yet, her composure doesn’t crack in the slightest. Just a small wrinkle of her pert little nose at the dust, before she dives back into her nonsensical equations and diagrams. Acting like she owns the place after less than three days on the job.
Clearly, this human needs a reminder of who exactly is in charge down here. And it certainly isn’t some feisty mortal with perfect hair and tropical beaches in her eyes. It’s me, the Devil’s own auditor, master of rebel souls and banisher of hope.
I tune out her droning, nodding occasionally as I plot my revenge. Maybe a little fire to torch that perfectly pressed pencil skirt? Or a staff-wide plague of boils should do the trick. I’m partial to locusts too…
A sharp snap of fingers in my face drags me back. “Pay attention, Mr. Daemonus. This is important.” My brow dives at her complete audacity. Meanwhile, she adjusts her glasses and our gazes lock.
Her eyes widen as if she’s just realized what she’s just done and, for a moment, I forget my surge of annoyance.
No.Moments. I suspend time as I stare into those blue eyes—so different from the dark soulless pits or the red flaming orbs of the countless minions in this part of the realm.
But I suppose you don’t need hellfire to pierce someone with your gaze. Only, this is a different sort of piercing than I’m used to. Her eyes don’t arrest me. Instead, I could drown in them.
“M-Mr. Daemonus.” Her lips purse as if she’s trying her damnedest, while mine curve into a smile.
