Satan's Hunger

2

'So, did he pass the test?'

Satan was standing at the window of his cavernous bedroom, looking out onto his dominion. He was wearing the long red dressing gown Kaitlyn had seen him wearing once before. A torch flickered by his head, shimmering against his short golden hair. The window was open and the screams of those burning were sharp and piercing.

'Depends on what you mean by pass,' Kaitlyn said, folding her arms. She trembled but kept her nerve.

The fireplace was cold and empty. His lizard-skin chair shimmered against the flames of the flickering torches bracketed into the walls. In the centre of the room, his great four-poster bed with its heavy drapes and black silken sheets stood ready and waiting.

He turned, then frowned. 'I don't like the look on your face. Change it.'

'Change it to what?'

'Something meek. Something mild.' His frown deepened. 'Back to the way it was. What's that on your hands?'

Kaitlyn lifted them. 'Angel blood.'

'Liar.' Sweeping around his gown, he marched towards her. 'You always were a terrible liar.'

Kaitlyn bit back a yelp of pain as he seized her wrist in a crushing grip and lifted her hand to his face. He smelled her palm, then leaned in and licked it. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

'I guess I do know him better than you,' Kaitlyn said bravely.

Satan's nostrils flared. 'I don't believe you.'

'You don't believe your own nose? You don't believe your own eyes?'

Throwing away her arm, he seized her between the legs. Kaitlyn yelped and shoved at his chest but his grip was powerful.

'Do you want to smell me down there too?' she snapped at a burst of rage. 'Do you want to lick me? Because I can assure you, you'll find him inside me—for real. In a way you haven't been. In a way you will never be.' Kaitlyn's heart was galloping. Her thighs were so tight they felt like tree trunks. Where was such courage—or was it stupidity—coming from? Was it because of Zeke's words? Was it because of Jacob?

A smile tugged at the corner of her lip. 'And it felt good. It felt good in a way you have never made me feel and could never make me feel.'

Kaitlyn looked towards the window at a piercing scream. Satan didn't move, still gripping her between the legs, expressionless and quiet.

Releasing her, he flashed his perfect white teeth in a devious grin. 'Is that so?'

He turned and walked towards the fireplace. Despite her courage, Kaitlyn felt more afraid than ever. What was he up to? His behaviour was so erratic, his reactions unpredictable. The Great Deceiver ...

The Great Mystery.

With a clench of his fist, the fireplace roared with blue flames. They leapt and jabbed and danced. Kaitlyn recalled the bruises he'd left on her, the nasty hickey on her neck, the trauma inside her after he'd raped her. With a rush of dread, she realised what an idiot she was. Had she forgotten who she was dealing with?

'Tell me, Kaitlyn. Do you like animals?'

'Y-yes,' she said. 'O-Of course. Everyone does.'

He turned and Kaitlyn stepped back—his eyes were red. Like blood. 'Do you like jackals? The way they howl? The way they eat? The way they chase down their prey? Have you ever seen a jackal on the attack before?'

Kaitlyn took another step back. 'Please. I-I didn't mean it.'

'Didn't you now?' He walked towards her, slowly, measuredly, with long powerful strides.