The Devil wanted the bright and lovely Cassy for a bride. Instead, he got a neurotic trickster as a roommate for six months out of the year. He's not happy about it, and neither is Louie.
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Song selection: Orpheus-- Shawn James
The moon was in full wax, a pale face watching over a garden of crimson roses and the two naked idiots dancing among them. Dozens of candles flickered softly around us, the ancient words odd in my mouth. I'd used several different sources to verify their pronunciation, and each heavily enunciated syllable sounded strange from Cassy's bright voice. She always spoke a little like a valley girl for a mystic.
"Are we doing this right?" she finally asked, her black eyes dancing with light from the moon and the crowd of candles.
I shrugged, taking her pale hand gently in mine. I stared down for a second. Her nails, black and sharp, like talons, were the first thing I noticed about her. Between the acrylics and her golden nest of hair, she reminded me of a hawk. I drew her nail over the inside of my arm, a quick cut. I'd left my dagger in my clothes.
A rivulet of red dripped from my arm; I let it touch the edges of the chalk circle we made in the grass and stepped back. I breathed in the air, so heavy with the rich and lovely fragrance of roses, my eyes closed as I took in the warmth of the summer night and the happy burn in my lungs from the dancing.
And then the smell changed; vanilla and bourbon. Oak and musk. The smell of a man's rich cologne emanated from everywhere all at once.
My eyes flew open. It was too late.
Cassy screamed, a short sound. She fell right through the ground. Her whole form, sucked down into the earth as if grabbed by a giant hand. I shouted, my legs suddenly weighing a thousand pounds.
My mind flew to a lecture I heard about space (funny, the things you think about before you die), about how if a person was to be dragged into a black hole, the gravity would play strongest on the part of the body closest to the center. I.e. your feet and legs, pulled into a string of atoms before the rest of you. I thought about this as the ground turned soft and I was pulled down.
Dirt filled my mouth, rocks scraped my eyes. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't suffocate. Tons of earth pressed down on my head. I was being crushed, but my body didn't change form. I tried to scream and broke all of my teeth.
And then it was gone. I was standing on marble floors; sweet air rushed into my lungs. I took in my surroundings; marble columns every few feet, orange twilight filtering in from large faraway windows. An oddly simple, oddly flat environment. Something you'd find as a screensaver or featured in a 'liminal space' forum.
And them.
Cassy, her talons replaced with light pink nails, her dark eye makeup removed and her cheeks powdered red. Her hair woven with roses, a silk white dress flowing to her feet. Against her mouth, the glimmering red skin of a pomegranate.
I didn't look at the face of the man holding the fruit; I couldn't. My eyes wouldn't travel there. But every hair on my back stood up, everything within me knew. Instinct had guided me my whole life, one of the things the artists in my circle loved so much about me. And instinct told me this—
They lied. The Devil does not wear Prada, he wears Hermes.
I could tell because I'd met some fashion moguls at a swingers club in the city only a few days before. Six buttons, with a sexy slouchiness to the dark material and crisp juxtaposing lapels. He had sunkissed, powerful arms and long fingers. The vanilla bourbon and a rich unnamable darkness all came from him. The smell of a man of taste and money.
"Agree to share this with me and be my bride." His voice. All honey, with a touch of a gentleman's drawl. The Devil is known for hanging around in Georgia, after all. "I've watched you since you began your journey with magic. Perhaps you do not believe a beast can love a mortal, but I know I've been waiting for you. I can't bear it any longer."
I heard her breath, soft and wavering. I cleared my throat, my eyes settling on the glorious red fruit. Something in my brain buzzed. It was a Friday night in Cassy's garden only minutes ago, but that hardly seemed to matter. Maybe I was in shock, but all I could think about was the fruit in his hand and what it might mean.
"C-can I break that open?"
I could feel his gaze turn on me. I had to duck my eyes. My fingers crept to my wrist; counting my pulse is still a go-to for me when I think I'm about to have a panic attack. That's when I realized I had no pulse. The panic leaped over my brain, licking flames. I breathed deeply, but my chest didn't move. Don't think. Speak.
A laugh, gentle but dark. "Why would you do that?"
"W-well, Mr. Satan, sir, if that's who you are, I'm Cassy's best friend and she always wanted a big wedding. Her parents aren't here to send her off, so I think it's best for me to participate in some way."
Cassy jerked her head away, her face stark pale. I'd never seen her afraid before, her mouth quivering open in shock. This was the same Cassy who jumped into a pool out of a four-story window, laughing. She was still laughing through six broken ribs.
"I would like that," she whispered.
An unfavorable sound came from the Devil. A cross of a grunt and a sigh. "You're not strong enough to break this open bare-handed, but if you insist on embarrassing yourself, so be it." He reached the fruit over to me. I still couldn't look up at his face.
I removed it gingerly from those graceful fingers, the deep red reflecting my wide eyes with a lip-gloss sheen. I stroked the soft skin for a second, held my breath, and spiked it against the marble ground. It erupted with a violent gush and a sweet, bright smell. Jewel-like seeds rushed across the floor.
What I did next, not pretty. I dove in like a dog, took a clump of six seeds, and shoved it down my throat without even chewing. The Devil gave a mighty roar, but before he could grab me, I'd already mashed the rest of the fruit into an ugly pulp with my fists.
The sound came from everywhere, all at once, that hideous, awful scream. "YOU!"
It was faster than I could even see. His hand clamping around my throat, lifting me off the floor. I couldn't cry out, I couldn't release a single sound. For the first time I saw his eyes, gold like an animal's. Cassy yelled something, but it sounded underwater.
"YOU...I could do awful things to you. I can drown you, burn you alive, unspeakable, unimaginable horrors. And I want to." Those eyes blazed, his lips curled into a snarl, and then something washed over his sharp features. Calm. His face relaxed, exposing a dimpled smile.
He dropped me and I hit the floor, wheezing. "But I suppose you have bested me, Mr. Louie Walker. I can respect a well-played ruse. Are you prepared to spend six months of every human year with me?"
Cassy was crying. My face was wet, so maybe I was crying too. But it could have just as well been the blood of the pomegranate I'd destroyed. Hide your fear. Hide it well. I spat on the ground.
