Heaven's Child ≫ SPN

9. Devil's Door

BEFORE

"King," I raised my eyebrows when the short plump man held out his hand to me. "King of..."

He maintained his smile even when he retracted the suspended hand he held out that I didn't shake.

"Underworld, Jahannam, Perdition, Hell." He shrugged. "Depends on what you believe."

"Oh. Well," I chuckled nervously, flipping through the damned Latin to English

dictionary. "I must've done something wrong o-or did something...I didn't mean to—" But he cut me off, sounding pleasant and patient as ever.

"I chose to come here."

I closed the book and straightened up, eyeing him from head to toe. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do, what the hell I was to expect, what the hell I was supposed to say and why the hell was the word hell the only thing I could think of.

He looked like he was waiting for me to say something. What that something was, I had no idea.

Oh. Well hello, King of Hell. I'm Eliza, Queen of Nothing. I summoned you here on purpose, in a motel filled with innocent people. Also, I have no idea how to kill you or get rid of you. The ball's pretty much in your court, sir.

"In my true form I have wings the size of Europe and claws that burn so hot they can tear through marble like soft butter." He misunderstood why I froze. When he spoke he had an air of unbeatable confidence that I really did not like. I was used to the supernatural hating me at first glance, even fearing me. But the King of Hell kept a pleasant smile.

I raised my eyebrows."But you can't get out of a funny circle?"

His smile faltered just a bit. "No. I can't get out of a funny circle."

I figured I might as well small talk, since I was going to die either way. "Well, King of Hell-your highness—"

"Please," he interrupted pleasantly. "Call me Crowley."

Of course. The King of Hell was polite and wanted me to call him by his first name.

I felt like someone was definitely going to find me in the form of a charcoal the next morning.

"Crowley," I repeated slowly. "What do you know about Sam and Dean Winchester?" It was the question I asked the five other demons I summoned. None of them answered, fearing that their boss would find out. And I realized with a pang that Crowley was most likely said boss.

A significant amount of patience left him at the sound of their names. "Lots of things."

Tread lightly. Tread lightly. "Okay...Can I know some of these things?"

Crowley paused a little before he straightened up. "Let me invite you to dinner, a proper one. Then you could ask me all the questions you want."

"Uh-no. I'd prefer if we stayed here." I was not about to get my ass Dante'd, thank you very much.

"It smells like vomit and sweat." His eyes crawled to the wall behind me, which I knew was withered and browning, then to the ceiling where black mold was beginning to grow.

"Yeah," I shrugged apologetically. "Not exactly the Hilton, but I only had thirty bucks left and I needed a place to crash."

"Would you like a mansion to stay in? I have one just a few miles from here. I could easily arrange a ride and a cleaning and cooking staff." He began dialing his phone.

"Uh—no—wait. Um."

"Yes?"

I looked at him and didn't bother hiding my confusion. "What are you trying to do?" I asked hesitantly, feeling stupid.