Hell's Pawn (9 page)

“And I can keep you company until then,” the shy demoness offered.

“I t’s not going to work on him,” Delilah called over her shoulder. “I ’ll send R immon over instead.”

“Now she tells me,” the blonde demoness rolled her eyes, all signs of timidness gone in an instant. J ohn tried to stand, but the demoness shoved him effortlessly back into his seat. “Let your friend go,” she said. “He’ll be fine.” J ohn glared at her. “S o this is the real Hell. You let new arrivals think they’ve found paradise before a demoness drags them away to a fiery pit.”

“Hardly,” the demoness snorted. “A couple of wet fish like you could never afford a succubus. Not that you’d be interested.”

“Then tell me what’s going on here!”

“I’ll take it from here,” a masculine voice purred.

I f the afterlife had C alvin Klein ads, the demon standing before him would be their star model. The immaculate physique was blatant below the tasteful black dress shirt and charcoal gray slacks. A face perfect in symmetry was gifted with lips as full as the cheeks were hollow. The half-lidded, golden cat-eyes radiated cool confidence. Unlike the looping demoness horns, his were short and blunt, like those of a baby goat, and could barely be seen under the tangle of messy black hair. J ohn had never heard of a male succubus before, but the demon oozed so much sex appeal that he couldn’t be anything else.

“That’s not fair,” John whimpered.

“He’s all yours,” the demoness sighed before gliding away.

“M y name is R immon,” the demon said with a subtle smile, “and I ’m hoping we can spend some time together.”

S weat broke out on J ohn’s forehead as he summoned the willpower to look away from this avatar of male perfection. He succeeded in the end, speaking through gri ed teeth. “If you want anything from me, you’ll have to turn off your demonic mojo.” R immon chuckled, and after a moment the sexual tension dissipated. J ohn looked back at him. W ithout using the full extent of his charm, R immon was merely extraordinary.

“Better?” he asked.

“Barely,” John admitted. “Now tell me what you are really doing here.”

“You’re something different,” R immon said, his tail curling into a question mark shape behind him. “Very well, since the usual methods won’t work on you, I ’ve been sent to show you a good time. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“B ut why?” J ohn asked, trying to suppress the feeling that C hristmas had come early.

“B ecause tomorrow you have a meeting with a very important person, and he wants to make sure you are of an agreeable disposition.” R immon held up a hand when J ohn tried to interrupt. “I can’t tell you more than that because I ’m not privy to the information. W hat I can promise you is that there are no tricks, no deceptions, or anything else that would cause you or your friend harm. You are, in effect, being bribed.”

“Bribed? Why? What do we have to offer?”

R immon spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness, melting J ohn’s heart. “I f you really want, I can leave you alone, but it would be a shame. M y clients are rarely as attractive as you.”

J ohn wanted to roll his eyes, but his face betrayed him by smiling. “O h, to hell with it. What did you have in mind?”

Chapter Five

The night was warm and the sky clear. The gray clouds of P urgatory held no sway here. The stars were in full view, sparkling rubies rather than the diamonds of old.

J ohn and R immon walked side by side down the streets of Hell, silent at first as J ohn cautiously observed the local night life. L ike P urgatory, Hell’s streets were full of people, but they strolled casually, cha ing to each other or the demons that walked among them. The first such demon J ohn saw was a woman covered in snake scales from her bare feet to her bald head, her arms full of ordinary grocery bags. E lsewhere, a man who appeared totally human except for leathery wings protruding from his back walked down the street peddling drugs. L ater, a six-breasted panther woman passed them by, leading a man on a chain. He wore an expression of pure bliss, even though the chain was attached through hooks in his nipples.

“Sex is Hell’s theme, then?” John asked of his companion.

“ I n Amsterdam, yes, but only to a small extent,” R immon said. “Drugs are more prominent. The new arrivals often seek them out to help them acclimatize. E ventually one learns that being high is very much a state of mind in the afterlife.” A tram ra led by, taking passengers to a destination that J ohn didn’t manage to read. “And the other cities?”

“E ach has its specialty. S ex, violence, greed, all the cardinal sins that priests and popes preach against. Until they arrive here, of course. We even have Paris so the gluttons can gorge themselves on food and wine.”

“B ut why Amsterdam?” J ohn asked. “O r Vegas or any of the others? I thought Hell was supposed to be all fire and brimstone.”

“O h, we have that, too,” R immon said. “There’s much more to Hell than resort-themed E arth cities. Hell consists of nine circles, each ever expanding. The outer-most circles, where we are now, are the closest to what you knew in life. The locales become much more unique the deeper you travel toward the hub. S in and pleasure take on new meaning there, and in many cases are purely intellectual or spiritual in nature.” A boat drifted by in the canal they walked along. The vessel’s passage through the water was nearly silent, the gentle waves it caused disrupting the reflection of red stars. The scene was oddly tranquil for a realm that was supposed to encompass eternal punishment.

“So serial killers, rapists, child molesters, they all end up here?” Rimmon nodded. “A good number of them do.”

“S eems unfair. We’re taught to live a good wholesome life, but when you get down to it, none of it matters in the end.”

“Funny thing, human nature,” the demon mused. “M ore than half of those who come here expect to be punished. They are so burdened by guilt and convinced of their preconceived notions of Hell that there is nothing else to do but humor them.” R immon stopped and placed his palm over J ohn’s eyes. He was about to protest when the darkness was replaced by a vision. S uddenly J ohn saw Hell as it was classically portrayed.

The materials of this world were fire and stone, metal and lava. M en, women, even children were in varying degrees of dismemberment. P iked heads screamed in unison, all of them eyeless except for one head that had the collection of missing eyeballs crammed into its mouth. E ntrails were strung across space like decorative banners, while discarded organs on the floor still pumped, twitched, or beat in an effort to perform their functions. I n the middle of all this was one man, directing the monstrosities like the conductor of an orchestra.

J ohn gasped, pulling away and restoring his sight to the much more pleasant scenes of Amsterdam. “That wasn’t a demon! The man in the middle of it all, he was human.”

“Yes,” R immon confirmed. “Not all murderers and rapists show up here with a guilty conscience, so we put them to work torturing those who do. We demons have little interest in such activities.”

The revulsion J ohn felt left the moment R immon placed a guiding arm around his shoulder. He smelled of designer cologne and probably a healthy dose of pheromones from the way J ohn’s body reacted. The demon’s ability to easily manipulate his emotions made J ohn uneasy, but that suspicion was very hard to maintain when Rimmon radiated comfort. Among other things.

“S o what’s life as a succubus like?” J ohn asked, hoping for information that might help him resist the demon’s charms.

“I ’m no succubus,” R immon said with a laugh. “They are the female of the species.

Incubus is the proper term for me, and I like my life. Especially my job.” He stopped, pulling J ohn toward him in what should have been a romantic scene.

They stood on an ancient stone bridge that arched over a canal, the evening breeze teasing their hair. R immon’s eyes were a entive and hungry as his head came closer for a kiss. B ut J ohn braced his hands against the demon’s chest, pushing away as much as he could. He was already cursing himself for doing so, but his mind wouldn’t be silenced.

“B ut what do you do?” J ohn said. “I have nothing against sex and drugs, and there’s even some rock and roll I find tolerable, but is that it? We’re supposed to be content with screwing around like a bunch of frat boys for all eternity?” The incubus sighed, releasing John from his grip. “Already the existential crisis?”

“What do you mean?”

“W hile alive, humans are completely preoccupied with surviving. M oney must be earned in order to eat and pay the rent. Then come the endless health concerns, worries over social status, and memberships to fitness clubs in a fruitless a empt to look sixteen again. B ehind all of this, the death clock is ticking out a constant reminder that time is running out.”

“I wouldn’t say life was exactly like that.”

“O nce here,” the demon continued unabashed, “comes the realization that time is unlimited and that all of life’s necessities are now optional. M ost people get on with enjoying themselves, while the more cerebral wring their hands and wonder what it all means.”

“What
does
it all mean?” J ohn asked, before laughing at himself. “I ’m not cerebral. I just want to understand everything.”

“E verything? I s that all?” R immon’s golden eyes sparkled with amusement. “I f I teach you everything there is to know, then will I be allowed to kiss you?” John grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

“Very well. We’ll start with the life of an incubus. After all, with experience comes understanding. You want to know what my life is like? Fine. L et me take you home and show you.”

Before John could reply, the world around him shifted and disappeared.

* * * * *

Thick down comforters, warmth, and the scent of sandalwood. J ohn opened his bleary eyes to dim light and a well-organized bedroom. The furnishings and decorations were minimal but tasteful. The dresser, nightstands, and wardrobe shared the same dark wood and silver handles, giving the room a classy yet comfortable ambiance.

A weight shifted next to J ohn. He reached over to feel a handful of fur before suffering an onslaught of licks to the face. J ohn pushed the animal away so he could see.

B olo! He didn’t know how it was possible, but the dog was with him again. B olo barked happily before hopping off the bed and tro ing out of the room. S eeking an answer to his confusion, J ohn forced himself to get up, glad that the suit he wore perpetually these days seemed to be wrinkle-proof.

Two heavy russet curtains blocked either a large window or a balcony door. J ohn moved toward it, hoping to find some hint as to where he was. He remembered Amsterdam, but here the silence was complete, all sounds typical of nightlife gone.

John reached for the curtain, pausing to admire its soft texture.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” R immon strode into the room, B olo in tow.

“We’re in the fourth circle of Hell now. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend what lies beyond. B eing dead doesn’t mean that you can’t go insane.” The incubus took John’s hand, moving it away but not letting go of it. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I guess so. What happened?”

“A simple teleport, that’s all. I’ve never seen anyone react like you.”

“How long was I out? Wait, was I sleeping?”

“An hour,” R immon smiled, “and yes. “S loth is one of the seven sins after all. S top that!” The last sentence was directed at Bolo, who was using the demon’s tail as a chew toy. “Is this your dog?”

“Uh, sort of, but I don’t understand how he can be here. The last time I saw him was on the astral plane outside of Purgatory.”

“Animals go where they please. You and I are limited in that regard, but they are lucky.”

“I wouldn’t say lucky,” J ohn said, the image of an endless collection of motionless animals momentarily haunting him.

“You feel troubled. I can tell that you’ve been through much since dying.” John shrugged. “No more than anyone else, I guess.”

“Well, someone did a number on you.” R immon traced a finger down to J ohn’s stomach and for one instant the painful memory of the glass man burst into vivid detail.

“You can see that?”

R immon nodded. “I t marks you, vicious and crimson like a wound. I can help you.

Take off your clothes. Trust me,” he added before John could object.

R immon shooed B olo out of the room as J ohn undressed for the first time since dying. He was relieved to see that everything was still there as he remembered, and still fully functional too, since his body was quickly reacting to the situation. That was curious. J ohn’s sex life had always been fairly active, depending on whether or not he was single, but since dying the idea simply hadn’t interested him. Not having a physical body meant being free of the influence of hormones and testosterone, but in the presence of the incubus, John felt like a horny teenager again.

R immon noticed J ohn’s arousal and smiled, but took J ohn’s hand like a gentleman and guided him to the bed. At his request, J ohn lay on his back, feeling absurdly nervous. As if he hadn’t done something like this thousands of times before! B ut he hadn’t really, since he didn’t have a clue if sex worked differently in the afterlife.

“There will be time for those urges later,” R immon said. “First, let me free you of the suffering you’ve been through.”

R immon placed his palm flat against J ohn’s skin. The hand was unnaturally warm, but comforting, like a hot water bo le. S tarting at J ohn’s chest, he brushed his hand downward.

J ohn winced when the demon reached the place where the glass man had toyed with him. His stomach was still tender and sore, a pain he had ignored until now.

R immon gently rubbed his hand over this spot, humming a strange tune that sounded like many voices harmonizing instead of just one.

Tranquility flowed over J ohn, pouring into the invisible wound and cooling it like a salve. The sound of R immon’s soothing tune made his mind heavy and calm.

M emories from his childhood flooded back. The loving warmth of his mother’s arms.

The security of being in his father’s presence in the years before alcohol had changed him. L azy summer days spent digging in the back yard with the family dog. All these happy moments came forward to gradually drown away the memory of the glass man.