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I choke on my own saliva mid-swallow and my eyes fly open. “I’m—I’m sorry, what?”
5
BYRON
When I first saw Faith, I thought she was an angel on Earth in her fishnets and cleavage-popping dress. All I wanted to do was bury myself in between her thighs, come on her tits, and then head into work, satisfied. By five o’clock, I’d probably have found myself another pretty little thing to take home with me for the night. Go a few rounds, come on her tits, shower, and then go to sleep. Rinse, repeat.
Deep down, somewhere inside this blackened soul of mine, I knew what I was doing wasn’t right. I mean, the women never complained. Not really. Yeah, some of them would get attached. At least in the beginning, until I figured out which ones were going to cling to me like toilet paper on the bottom of my shoe. But once I started choosing better, it seemed like things were fine. They knew the name of the game, because they were playing it, too. But messing around, while fun, is probably what’s contributed to me being picked up by a literal demon.
A hot demon, no less, but still a demon.
Faith stares down at me like I just suggested we run off, get married, and have five kids. Of course she is, because she’s probably used to taking her victims kicking and screaming. But I want this. No, Ineedthis. Clearly, my lifestyle isn’t working out for me, and I’ve been a huge dick to my colleagues, too. Fuck it, maybe this is my Charles Dickens moment, and I finally got food poisoning before falling asleep and now I’m being given the opportunity to turn my life around or something. If that’s the case, then I’d be a fool to squander this moment. I need to play my cards right. If she’s my last stop before eternal damnation, I better start convincing her to help me out.
“Please,” I murmur again, and lift my hands, clasped tightly together, and shake them. “Please help me.”
Finally, after eons of waiting for her to reply, she says, “I’m not in the business of reforming souls, my guy. I’m supposed to break and extract them. What you’re asking for, I can’t give you. You should have asked for forgiveness while you were still on Earth.”
My heart sinks. Yeah, I figured it was too late to save my soul. But I’m not about to give up. Maybe I can use reverse psychology on her? She’s a demon, so she probably enjoys more submissive prey, right? It’s worth a shot. I’ve never once submitted to a woman, but fake it till you make it, I guess. I lower my head down to her boots, sharp black heels that shine like an oil spill. “I’m sorry,” I rasp. “Do what you must, then.”
She lets out another squeak of surprise, which… honestly sounds adorable coming from her. “It’s no fun if you’re legitimately repentant. I’m going to have to take you back to Earth and try again while I still have time.”
I could kiss her for that, but I keep my elation to myself. Raising my gaze to meet hers, I grind out, “Thank you, mistress. And… and I hope you find a truly deserving soul so you can get your, er, promotion.” Okay, now I’m laying it on a little thick.Judging from the way she sniffles and glares down at me, it’s pretty much confirmed.
Faith’s throat bobs up and down as her face twists into a sour expression. How is it that she’s both the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen in my life and also the most terrifying? Beauty, true beauty, is harrowing, evidently.
“Get up. Now,” she barks. Immediately, I’m on my feet. She’s shorter than I am, but not by much. It takes effort not to meet her eyes. I’m too afraid to look directly at her, like I’d be challenging a wild animal to a fight I know I couldn’t win.
“Thank you,” I mutter. “Thank you.”
“Oh, shush, will you? I’m not doing you any favors, trust me.”
I blink. “Y-You’re not?”
She smooths the wrinkles in her dress and scoffs. “No. At your rate, you’re just going to wind up back down here anyway. And you won’t get lucky a second time, either. You’ll probably land your ass down in layer eight.”
Furrowing my brow, I ask, “What’s layer eight?”
“The Fraud department.”
Is that really going to be my fate? I mean, I know I can be a jerk, but I didn’t think… shit, she’s probably right. My hands ball into fists at my sides. “How can I avoid that?”
“Seriously?” She runs her claws through her glossy hair. “You avoid it by being good. Whatever that means to you.”
She’s definitely not an angel, I know that, but better to deal with the devil you know than the one you don’t, right? I clear my throat and lift my chin. “C-Could you help me? Figure out how? Because if I know the rules, then I’ll be able to follow them. Please, mistress.”
I can’t wind up back down here. I need my Scrooge moment.
She strides around her bed and pulls out a leather bag that looks suspiciously like human skin. I’m not sure what kind of skin it is, but I really hope it’s some sort of animal hide and notsomething else. When she rummages through the bag, she pulls out a few tools I’ve seen before on earth. A cane, a flogger, some nipple clamps. Your typical BDSM gear they sell in every store throughout the city. Nothing alarming. Nothing I’ve had used on me before, either, but I’m fascinated by it all.
I watch in silence as she sets everything out on her bed in an orderly fashion, my hands clasped behind my back.
“Were you a submissive back on Earth or something…?” she finally asks, not bothering to look my way as she arranges everything.
“No, actually. I’ve never been into kink before,” I say. Sure, I’ve walked past some clubs during late-night drinking with the boys, but I never went inside. “But I suppose I could be a… What’s the term for the people who go back and forth?”
She looks up at me and raises an incredulous brow. “You’re such a dumbass, you know that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I think being a dumbass is the reason why I’m here though, right?” I ask. “It’s just that I’m a little more self-aware than some of your other garden-variety souls.”
