A Soul for Sale

Chapter 1

There's a trick every demon knows.

Zenobia folded her wings, retracted her claws. The human body Lord Lucifer had created for her was growing fast. She could already feel the bones forming, the skin stretching over sinew and flesh. She remained very still, allowing enough time for the process to complete. She'd heard enough horror stories about impatient demons rushing half-formed into the human world, tail or horn still showing, and getting lynched by an angry mob. So she waited, in the gap between the dark and the light matter, until she'd fully assumed her new shape. The trick was to inhabit the human flesh so completely that no trace of the demon would remain, inside or out. She wouldn't just pass as human, she would be human.

"I'm ready," she thought.

The darkness changed shape, became a tunnel, a cave, a door. She walked through it, straight into a dove-grey dawn. Damp, delicious grass squished between her toes. She stretched, relishing the cool breeze over her brand-new skin. It was still early spring in London, the temperature wasn't too much of a shock after the icy winds of Hell. Her eyes were still getting used to the light, but sounds and smells were rushing in. Wet earth. Birdsong. Car engines.

Zenobia yanked her mind back to her mission. The city was waking up, soon people would come into the park, walking their dogs, or whatever monsters they kept as pets these days. She didn't have much time. She rummaged in the undergrowth and soon located the bag her contact had left for her. As usual, it contained what she'd asked for, and nothing more: underwear, black, lacy; dress, black, short; heels, black, patent, and high. Basic toiletries, a first aid kit. A wallet stuffed with shiny cards, so she could buy the rest of what she needed. Last but not least, a thin tablet computer, the screen made of graphene so it could be rolled up. She flicked through the legal documents. Harry Belmont was up to his usual tricks. Twice her department had come to collect his soul, and twice he'd given them the slip. But not this time. This time she was on the case.

The clothes fitted to perfection. She slung the bag over her shoulder and strode out of the park, slipping into the flow of people and machines with ease. Her new body could do all the things a human body could, only better, and faster. She would outfight and outsmart any ordinary man, including Belmont. She checked the map on her tablet and headed for the tower of shining glass at the end of the street.

"Welcome to Belmont Towers, Madame."

She stared at the mechanical choirboys on either side of the door. They bowed in unison before resuming their hymn, and she smiled to herself. Since scientists had finally proved the immortality of the soul, and the existence of the other world, her world, humans had rediscovered the joys of religion. Except now they had robots to do their singing for them.

Not that it would make a difference to Harry Belmont. Her heels click-clacked across the marble floor of the lobby. Only sincere penitence could save him now, and from what she knew of him, the man was genetically incapable of repentance.

"I've come to see Harry Belmont," she said to the blonde, human receptionist behind her crystal desk. The girl looked her up and down, a slight frown on her painted face.

"Do you have an appointment?"

Zenobia's smile broadened.

"He has been expecting me for some time."

The girl pursed her lips and pressed a button.

"Twentieth floor".

The lift was made of glass too, so Zenobia had plenty of time to admire the chaotic splendour of the city, in the reddish glow of the rising sun. Pity she didn't have any time to play the tourist. London looked like the kind of town she could do business in.