Succubus in the City (40 page)

Nathan stared at Her openmouthed, as if he could not look at Her enough and as if he couldn’t quite believe what he saw. Which was fairly reasonable because unless you were prepared for Satan She was overwhelming.

“I, this is, it’s a shock,” Nathan stammered when he finally recovered his voice. “And is this real? Did you slip something into my drink and I’m hallucinating or maybe hypnotized…”

“It is all quite real,” Satan responded. “Clearly you have little experience with hallucinogenic drugs or hypnosis if you believe this could be either. In those situations there remain both the basic structure of the world you know and an awareness that your perceptions are altered. Here you should be quite clear that you are sober, in full possession of your faculties, and that there is not even a passing resemblance to the restaurant, or even anyplace in New York City. Certainly not in February.”

We were outside on the terrace and it was as hot and dry as a sauna, leeching the moisture from my skin. When we arrived the blazing red and yellow sky looked like imminent sunset, but the colors had not changed. The burning sky of Hell remained the same. Neither daylight nor darkness covered the landscape, only ever this fire overhead, flickering and unsteady, sometimes brilliant and sometimes smoky and dim. Long layers of what looked like cloud from a distance could be seen to be carbon gray smoke as they passed overhead. Just a trace of the scents of sulfur and brimstone wafted through the still air. The flowers on the table, which had appeared fresh when we arrived, had begun to droop, the tulips curled over and turned downward, the roses shedding petals on the tablecloth.

“Well, come along then,” She said, gesturing with one of those bloody talons. Then She turned and walked briskly through the open doors into the welcome shade of the palace—Her palace.

Nathan and I followed mutely into the Throne Room. Here against a vast wall, up at least twenty feet of stairs, was the Throne of Hell, formed of steel and bone and the bodies of the tortured damned, who screamed in agony as they contorted their bodies to hold a structure that could only very loosely be thought of as a seat. Satan did not mount the stairs; those were for the damned and the supplicants. She merely blinked and She was seated, now three times as large as She had been, and at Her feet her gown became a river of fire tumbling over the black stone step.

I had seen Her in this aspect many times but it never ceased to inspire my awe.

Only this time She had positioned me standing to Her left as her Maid of Honor. My dress had changed, too, and now I was dressed in emerald and gold in a style that was half Periclean Athens and half Bollywood.

Nathan, on the far side facing both of us, gaped.

“Perhaps this is the easiest place to begin,” Satan said conversationally. “The seat of power, as it were. Supplicants come here or manifest, and if I’m in the mood to hear petitions I might see as many as ten in a day. Of course, you will notice that you are at the front of the line right now, and if you look behind you, you’ll notice that there are thousands waiting.”

Nathan turned and saw a sight that could not be anything but Hell. We were inside but also on a mountain. A single narrow path led deep into a valley, and every inch of the path was packed with souls. Some were damned, others (most others) were in Purgatory. Some were the righteous dead who came with petitions on behalf of their loved ones in either place. Here and there along the line, mostly near the front, were a few ceremonial magicians resplendent in their robes, lamens and headdresses, bearing wands, swords, and sigils.

“But this is still the traditional interpretation of Hell,” Satan said only to Nathan. “If you want more information you could do far worse than read Dante. What he wrote was not entirely fiction, you understand. There was a Beatrice and he did indeed glimpse My realm before he wrote it. I made certain of that. So let us go on and see some of the more modern innovations.”

In a flash we were in a huge, comfortable room furnished in Philippe Starck. With crisp tan walls, blond bamboo flooring, and Lucite furniture neatly placed between the stone fountains, it brought to mind one of the public rooms of a very elegant, very modern boutique hotel. Everything was sleek and streamlined, but not sterile. Which had been the curse of eighties minimalism when nothing had any softened lines. Here a few plump cushions upholstered in rich gold and coffee brocades exuded luxury and ease, and brought in the traditional note required for the postmodern punch.

A delicate antique escritoire held a laptop running Windows. Satan ran a red fingertip over the keyboard and caressed the function keys. “Just in case you were wondering, yes, we do run Windows in Hell. It’s one of our premier acquisitions. But, enough of that, come on.”

She touched one of the softly backlit panels and it slid open to reveal a set of offices that were all well appointed and quiet and populated by a team of demons who looked the part. Which means, they looked demonic in business dress. Many had horns or were colors not seen among humanity. There were even a few Bastforms and one who appeared to be more nightmare than humanoid.

We knocked on the thick wooden door of the first office on the left, and were admitted by a receptionist wearing something from last year’s collection in H&M who just happened to have skin that resembled a tangerine peel that had been marked with blue sigils on the forehead and both cheeks. One wall of the reception area was covered with a beautifully decorated mural of a map of all the world with clusters of colored fairy lights thickly layered over the inhabited areas. There was no time to gawk, as we were brought directly through to the inner office where a big window overlooked the burning sky and a brass nameplate. Meph was there looking out the window, tiny horns poking out of his news anchor hair just lightly frosted with silver at the temples and a tail hanging out of his pinstripe Brioni suit, but otherwise the very picture of a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. He must have morphed those on just to make the point.

He looked up as we were ushered in. First he made reverence to Satan, a crisp nod of the head that indicated something much deeper but was kept restrained because a stranger was present. Then he turned to me.

“Lily,” he exclaimed, “I haven’t seen you in ages, not since we had dinner. And I saw that you’ve gone to Ono. What did you think?”

“We’re just stopping in for a very brief visit,” Satan interrupted. “I’ll command that she blog it and you can read all about it. And maybe the two of you can even have a dinner together in the future, but right now we’re giving Nathan the tour.”

Meph crossed his office in rapid strides and held his hand out to Nathan. “Lily’s young man? So very pleased to meet you. You saw us outside of Butter, didn’t you? You take good care of our Lily, she’s very special to us.”

Nathan did shake his head as if in agreement, however reluctant he appeared to me.

“Well, enjoy the tour, but remember, this is only Headquarters. We operate in every corner of the world, on all seven continents, and yes, that does include the installation on Antarctica. Though we don’t interfere with the penguins. Those belong to Upstairs. We just take care of the scientists.”

“This is Mephistopheles.” I made the introduction in case Nathan hadn’t noticed the nameplate. “He’s Satan’s lieutenant, which makes him the most senior executive after Satan Herself.”

Meph smiled. “Well, nice of you to say, Lily. But be careful because you know that Beliel and Beelzebub and Moloch and Marduk would claim that all of us are equals. And Moloch with his airports.” Meph turned to Nathan. “I’m head of all the functions and departments under Satan, but I hope you have the opportunity to meet the others soon if they’re not available right now. Beez is in charge of Operations, Beliel is the Chief of Security and Marduk runs the Budget.”

“Marduk?” Nathan asked, confused. “But he was one of the Babylonian pantheon. Head of it at various times.”

Meph pulled a face. “Exactly, and he never lets us forget it. He was a god and the rest of us were never more than mere angels.” Meph shrugged. “Office politics doesn’t change just because we’re not among the living. But…he does a good job. Runs the department efficiently and is a real hardnose with Accounting.”

Satan ushered us out. The receptionist demon bowed low to Her before closing the door after us.

“What is his relationship to you?” Nathan asked after we were out of earshot.

“Avuncular,” I replied crisply. “Meph loves good food and likes good company, and he’s looked out for me since I first arrived. But in case you’re thinking of being jealous or something, don’t bother. Meph isn’t interested in female demons that way.”

“If we were doing a full tour I would take you to meet Moloch and Beliel and Beelzebub and Marduk, but my schedule is rather constrained, as you might appreciate,” Satan said. “I’m needed elsewhere at the moment. Lily, you can continue to show Nathan around. If you need assistance, call on Sariel. I believe she’s available. And now, I must be off. So lovely to see you, Lily. You know I couldn’t resist.”

I hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Thank you, Satan,” I whispered in her ear. “Thank you a million times, thank you.”

She smiled. “Well, we all know how things work. One favor deserves another, after all.”

“Yes, Satan.” That was the formal acknowledgment and seal. Satan had granted me a great boon and I would have to pay. But I knew that and I didn’t care. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Her anyway, so it was a great privilege that She had answered my prayer.

She disappeared in a puff of sulfur-scented smoke and we were back on the terrace. Only two iced tea glasses remained, and the flowers were now completely wilted.

I added sugar and lemon to the iced tea and handed it to Nathan before I fixed one for myself. He didn’t sip, but put the glass down directly. “Lily, can you get us home? I’ve had enough of this.”

“Then you believe me?” I asked, hopeful.

“I believe you,” he answered.

“But there are other things you need to know,” I added. “Yes, I can get us home. Not a problem. But I need you to know, Nathan, while I’m a succubus I have only really ever loved one man before. And I think I’m falling for you. And you know that Satan will let me go if someone truly loves me.”

He nodded mutely. “Lily, please, I need to go back now. I believe, but I want to be out of here.”

I understood. Hell can be oppressive. It’s supposed to be oppressive. It’s Hell.

I returned us to the lobby of my building. Vincent would have been the only one who noticed that we hadn’t entered through any door.

“Would you like to come up?” I asked.

Nathan shook his head. “I need to think,” he said, holding my hands. “This is all very…unexpected. I need to clear my mind. Lily, it’s just been a few weeks and we’ve only seen each other a few times, and in that bit of time I’ve come to care for you as much as I think I’ve ever cared for anyone. I wanted—but I have to think. I have to assimilate all this. I need a little time.”

I dropped his hands and my head. My heart felt like lead in my chest. I knew.

He turned away without even a hug and went into the night. Vincent came over wordlessly and hugged me close, held me while I sobbed. I had cried so much tonight and it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Vincent took me upstairs, took off my boots, and made me a cup of tea. A demon who can brew a cup of tea, who would have thought? Though maybe Sybil had taught him.

My brain was not working right. I felt like I was thinking in a haze. Vincent got me settled on the sofa with tea and the remains of my last pint of Chunky Monkey, which was woefully low. “I’ll run out and get you some more on my break,” he said.

Vincent came back at three a.m. to find me bawling and a puddle of ice cream dripping onto my antique carpet.

He cleaned up the mess and put the new pint in the freezer. Then he fed me a little yellow pill with the now tepid tea that I hadn’t touched. I don’t know where he got the Valium and I didn’t care. I rarely take drugs so this one worked fast and I was grateful for it. The worst of the misery dulled and I fell asleep under Vincent’s care.

chapter
THIRTY-TWO

I woke fully dressed—but in my bed—on Sunday morning.

Sunday. At least I would be seeing my friends at brunch and they would take care of me…or not. We’d changed our brunch date this week. No nice comforting banana-stuffed French toast, no endless alcohol, no best friends clustered around to hold my hand.

Maybe it wasn’t so awful. Maybe he was in shock but it would wear off and he’d see the advantages. Maybe he’d heard the part about me becoming mortal.

Maybe I’d been a total idiot.

I lay in bed and pulled the covers up, but I was uncomfortable in my clothes and they smelled from being slept in. Sighing, I got out of bed, stripped my carefully chosen outfit straight into the cleaning bag, and went for the shower.

If I lived in a house with my own water heater, I would be showering in ice water by now. Thank all there is for the heavy-duty plumbing in a luxury apartment building.

But my skin had wrinkled up and I’d stopped crying for the moment. I got out, toweled my hair, got dressed. No careful choices today.

I thought about coffee but I couldn’t work up the energy. A bagel would be nice, a fresh one slathered with butter (which Desi would consider heresy, but I didn’t care, I like butter more than cream cheese). A big fat poppy seed bagel and then a pumpkin muffin or an orange walnut scone. And hot chocolate, that would be the perfect beverage, a nice big hot chocolate.

Maybe the girls would come and we could have brunch anyway. Maybe they’d be willing to meet me for a carb-out at the Carnegie Deli, and I’d have the matzoh ball soup.

I was thinking about the telephone when it rang. My heart leaped. Nathan? Had he reconsidered? I grabbed the receiver.

It was Sybil. “Vincent told me,” she said without preamble. “Can I come up?”

“Sure,” I said, not thinking. Five minutes later she was at my door with a bag of fresh bagels, still hot from the oven, and lattes and cream cheese and capers. I couldn’t move while she set out plates and knives and put the bagels into a bowl. Dear Sybil had even bought extra poppy seed, which were my favorites.