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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Brambles shred my all-too-human skin as the Devil chases me down into the brush. No longer a tall young man with dark eyes; he is all muscle and long legs and a glistening black pelt. The dragon I stole from heaven whines as burrs and thorns burry themselves between his fish-like scales.
Can't you turn into a creature?
It's a thought from the dragon pushed directly into my brain. It's gonna take some getting used to. Even more unsettling? That the dragon knows I can turn into an animal. Not even my best friend knows that, the odd power not even described in folklore.
Yes, but why give him the satisfaction? And how did you know?
Behind me, the sounds of howling. I should have expected this. A supernatural entity is not a playmate. But it felt like it for a second there. The warm way he looked at me, the way his skin was warm and human when touched my face.
I know what I know.
I'm slammed to the ground, crushing branches and roots beneath me. I have no chance to break my fall-- I feel the hot breath and warm froth from his muzzle on the back of my neck. He's at least two-hundred pounds, but he feels like he weighs 2,000. I can barely breathe under all that weight.
"If you're gonna devour me, do it!" I say this through a mouthful of earth and leaves and twigs, twitching and coughing. The dragon whines and the Devil roars, this neither human nor animal sound. I try to twist, to look him in those eyes, but I can't.
Those jaws hang open for a moment longer--I can feel them, that hot breath. And then his voice rings out, clear and cold. "I think it's time for us to return to the underworld, don't you agree?"
I don't have time to respond. We're dropped straight through the ground, tons of pressure and bits of rocks cutting my skin. But in seconds, I'm in his palace. I land with a bounce on his bed, greeted by dark wood walls and marble floors. Lucifer lands in his leather wing-back chair by his desk, the dragon in his lap. It cowers, small wings flat on Lucifer's knees. It peers up at me with its giant eyes as the Devil clears his throat.
"I have studying to attend to and don't have time to play around with you."
"That was playing around! I thought you were going to tear me to pieces."
He waves his hand. "You traded my domain. We are not equals, Louie, and I don't want you to forget that. Do not make deals in my name."
"'We are not equals, Louie,'" I parrot in a squeaky voice. So maybe I'm a little pissed. "And you don't tell me what to do."
He narrows his gold eyes. "You're irritable. Why don't you take a nap?"
"Maybe I will."
"Good." He turns his chair around.
"Good!"
I make a show of punching the pillow and tossing the quilt over my head, but the Devil whistles innocently. Through squinted eyes, I make out his form, wrapping a gold tape measure around the dragon's muzzle. Sleep does not come quietly; it attacks me. Knocks me far from the visage of the bed and into the hellish red swamp the Devil calls home. Demonic gators snap at me as I wade knee-deep in filthy red water, and bats that reek of rotting flesh swarm the air.
Something beneath me is rumbling, and I reach down, my fingers grasping a small odd-shaped pebble. I lift it to my eyes, and it laughs. High-pitched, nearly a scream. A simple onyx skull.
"I can grant you everything you want."
I blink a few times. "Sure, but this is just a dream. And a weird one at that." I don't normally dream in hell, and in any dream, I've never felt this aware and calm. "What are you?"
"Find me, and you'll have your deepest wish."
I rub my face. "Okay, whatever. I think I'll just wake up now." Not only do I have to live in hell half the year, but I have to steal from angels, speak with extradimensional dragons, and talk to stone skulls in my dreams. I think I'm good.
When I awaken, the dragon is flipped on his back and the Devil rubbing its exposed belly, his back still turned. He doesn't even look up. "Don't make human assumptions about me. This is merely research."
"Whatever, poser." I press my hands against the back of my head. "Do you know about a little black skull? Like the size of my thumb?"
Now he stands up, the dragon plopping to the floor with the gracefulness of a kitty-cat. His golden eyes light up. "Oh, yes! My favorite paperweight. It's been missing for almost twenty years."
I rub my bleary eyes. "Paperweight? I thought it was some special artifact."
"No, I got it at Hot Topic in the nineties. Just the perfect size and shape to capture my imagination." He smiles; it's an odd and miraculous sight, the Devil smiling. He looks nostalgic even, his eyes fixed on a distant point.
I blink incredulously. "Well, it told me it would give me my deepest desire in a dream. Can you explain that?"
"Hmm." He taps his finger to his lips. "Perhaps it means that if you find it, I'll grant you your freedom."
"I see." I press my fists against my hips. "I'm worth less than a paperweight to you?"
"I thought you'd be pleased by this." He sits back down, lacing his hands across his lap. "You want your freedom, don't you?"
More than anything."Yeah, whatever. Where can I find it?"
He laughs, slow and melodious, rubbing his sunkissed hands over the dragon's glittering scales. "Oh, I don't know. Somewhere in China, I think."
"Do you remember anything more than specific than 'China?'"
