The Devil in the Black Suit

The Other Side of the Night

Chapter Five

The Other Side of the Night

“You’re quite ambitious,” says my savior, voice as smooth as stream water.  “Taking on the Demon King is quite the task, even for a devil like me.”

Though I’ve heard the voice less than a handful of times, I recognize it immediately.  “James,” I choke, my still-racing heartbeat constricting my throat like a boa.

In silence, carries me as he flies through the sky for what seems like an eternity.  An unnatural cold sweeps over my skin at off intervals, clouding my eyes over with blackness.  At the point where the Demon King hit me, right below where my topknot should have been, feels like a thousand white-hot needles are pricking me all at once.  Pain radiates throughout my body, sending my senses reeling.

I want to thank him.  And after I thank him, I want to ask him to let me fly on my own.  But just the thought of moving my mouth to speak threatens to send my consciousness over the edge.  And if there’s one thing I cannot afford to do right now, it is to black out.

Good thing I don’t speak, because James presses his soft lips to my ear and growls, “You broke my rules.  Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you now.”

Try as I might, I cannot utter a word.  Adrenaline starts pumping through my veins again, as if to prepare them for the venom James is sure to inject me with.  The tip of his tail toys with my ankles during my silence, tracing abstract patterns along my flesh.  Suddenly, I find myself wishing that James had not rescues me from the Demon King after all.  Because it seems I have leaped from the proverbial frying pan straight into Hellfire.

The barbs on his tail snap as he releases them, and I close my eyes as if that will make the fear go away.  I was arrogant to think that I could escape from Hell unscathed.  Well, if I’m going to go down that route, then it was arrogant to think I could fly to the Angels’ Academy without facing consequences.

Knowing it is unlikely the Creator will answer my prayers, I pray anyway.  If I make it out of this alive, I will be a changed angel.  I will follow the rules.  I will do whatever James wants.  I will leave it to the Creator to determine when I am allowed to return to Heaven, if that time is to come at all.  I promise.

“Just one reason,” James whispers, dropping his voice so low that I can barely hear it.  “Just one reason why I shouldn’t end your pathetic life.”

Just like that, the softer side of James I had seen earlier disappears.  Now he is back to the devil I met in Heaven, his tail itching to dive into my body.  Swallowing, I try to gather my thoughts, to think of some way to convince him to do the impossible: to spare my life once more.

But before I can speak, the rustling of another pair of wings fills my ears.  Another Hell-dweller is beside us, and I want to pray that it is not the Demon King come back for me, but I know I have already done my share of praying.

“James, wait!” shrieks a female voice, words punctuated with a desperate squeak.  “Get your tail off that angel!”

Maybe the Creator has spared me, I dare to think.  Cracking my eyes open a fraction, I take in the female demon who is set on saving me.  Her wings are a navy blur, mussing up her hair as the wind batters her back and forth.

It takes a moment for me to place her as the girl that had been attacked by the Demon King, because I am so distracted by her resemblance to someone else I know.  Someone I hadn’t seen for nearly two years now.

Leyo’s little sister, Nea.  I know that this girl must be Leyo’s counterpart, but she looks so much like the woman Nea would have grown up to be, if given the chance.  Like it was yesterday, I still remember my mother giving me the news of Nea’s death.  She had been killed by her counterpart, my mother told me, offering me a hot cup of blufruit tea, while playing in the nimbus playground near our families’ houses.  She never stood a chance, my mother explained, for her counterpart was years older and much stronger than she was.  If we were to take something from Nea’s life, she said, it was to always err on the side of caution.