8 Seven Deadly

Lily

Lily flopped into the oversized gaming chair, panting, the bat slick in her hand. She’d honestly tried to talk to him first.

And he’d smiled.

Smiled as he’d first lied, then tried to manipulate, despite the fact she held an account of his soul in her hands. He’d stopped smiling when she hadn’t tried to soothe him. When she’d called him out on his twisted bullshit, he’d laughed.

It was the laughter that had made her snap.

The oily file had shown her the children, their fear of him, the pain he’d inflicted on them, the damage he’d done to them.

A child huddled under their bed, shaking in fear as the door to their room crept open, his footsteps heavy on the carpet. The man’s malicious glee as he saw the empty bed, saw the edge of a blankie peeking out from under it. It was so much more fun for him when they were scared, when they cried…

She’d never liked violence. But the reverberation of impact that had juddered up the bat and her arm had been damn near euphoric.

He’d stopped laughing then. She imagined that it was hard to laugh without teeth.

Or a functioning lower jaw.

Lily studied the blood trickling down the bat and regretted nothing.

Her quiet chest felt wrong though. Her heart should have been pounding a mile a minute.

“Good form,” said a voice so deep it nearly rattled her bones.

Bones. Did she have bones anymore? She was dead but it felt like she had bones…

“Thanks,” she rasped, and swallowed hard. “I had incentive.”

“Murderer?” A giant figure appeared beside the desk, crouching down slowly. It was the demon with the broken horn, at least eight feet tall and built like a mountain.

“Child molester.” Lily angled the bat to keep gore from dripping onto her leggings.

Maybe the Universe had made a mistake in giving her a Paradise, because what she’d just done didn’t bother her. What bothered her was that she didn’t feel worse about what she’d done. She should have felt awful and cruel, shouldn’t she? But she didn’t.

Evil. He’d been pure evil.

And now he was a pulpy, person-shaped mess on the floor. One that wheezed and twitched.

Echoes of a little girl, crying, crying, crying. He’d wanted her to cry harder.

A hand nearly the size of a serving tray held out a handkerchief that could have easily passed as a small towel. She took it, murmuring a thanks, and wiped the bat.

“He’ll regenerate,” the demon rumbled, watching her with knowing black eyes. “He will wish that he didn’t, but he will, and then Gregorith will make you look like a mortal saint.” The demon glanced at the mess the other side of the desk, raised his eyebrows, and quirked his mouth in a smile. “Well, maybe not a saint, but certainly the kinder of two options.”

“Level Nine doesn’t fuck around, huh?”

“No.” The demon shuddered slightly. “They don’t.”

“You’ve worked there?”

“No, my niece works down there, and they all take their jobs very seriously. I thought about it when I was younger, but I found that the structure and work of the legions appealed to me, for a time anyway. Working at the gate offers a certain kind of challenge and requires a level of discipline that I enjoy. It can be difficult, like all work. But so can life, yes?”

Lily finally dragged her eyes away from the reasonably clean bat to study him. His rough-hewn features would never qualify him as classically handsome, but he was far from terrifying. His nose had been broken and badly set a few times, and a gnarled scar as wide as her thumb split his hair, running from the broken horn down across his face, slashing over one eye and narrowly missing his nose and mouth. His body, even crouched and hunched in an attempt to make himself smaller and less intimidating, was built for brutal power. The tail he’d carefully curved to drape over his feet was blunted and too short, the end a long-healed mass of scars.

Her eyes had never been that kind. She’d never radiated peace and security like he did. She couldn’t see him as anything other than a gentle, capable giant. Her friend Anna’s dad had been like that, a bruiser of a man who no one ever suspected of caring diligently for a flower garden that could have won awards, or fussing over a bee that he’d found lying exhausted on the pavement.

The demon tilted his head and a tiny, messy braid with a glitter-encrusted bead at the end slid out from the mass of his hair to tap against his thick neck.

“My little girl,” he explained with a chuckle, tucking it behind his pointed ear. “She is learning how to braid and decided that I needed a ‘bravery bead.’” His features grew serious. “Do not feel sorry for him, for what you’ve done. Justice and mercy are not the same, and sometimes, especially here, they cannot coexist. As a father, I thank you. You did well. And not just with him, but with all the others. It was the quietest shift I’ve ever had.”

“It felt good,” Lily admitted quietly, watching the line of souls moving smoothly from the gate to the tunnels. “To be helpful and to not be the punching bag.”

“You handled yourself well.”

She smiled, then sat up guiltily. “I’m so sorry, I just realized I don’t know your name.”

“No apology needed, I’m Krun. You are Ms. Lily, yes?”

“Just Lily.” She laughed.

“All due respect, I don’t think there is anything ‘just’ about you. Few mortals venture down here of their own free will, let alone offer to help us at the gate. For that, you have all of our thanks.”

Lily opened her mouth to say…what? That it was nothing? It wasn’t, and she knew it. Effective help in the service industry was like cold water on a hot day. To question the lack of mortal help offered to them? She hated that she believed it, was ashamed of it, but also understood completely. Fear was an easy deterrent.

Going to Hell. Going to Hell. Going to Hell.

Joke’s on you, I did it and rather enjoyed myself.

“You’re welcome,” she said softly.

“Come on, Ms. Lily.” Krun straightened, knees popping, and offered her his arm with a grin. “We’re all very excited to grab that drink with you and share stories, as well as show off our home. Also, are you much into gaming?”

Lily stood and took his arm, feeling cartoonishly small for the first time in her existence. “What kind of gaming?”

* * *

“What do you mean you all play Invaders ?” Lily asked, trying not to spill her drink—the best margarita she’d ever had—in excitement. The online multiplayer game set in a colony on Mars had been one of the few she’d played frequently during her life. The social aspect of it had appealed to her, as well as the ridiculous ways that people tried to defend or condemn themselves during the “trial” that was held every time someone found the body of a murdered “settler.”

“Well, not all—”

“Some of us are more into Dungeons and Dragons.”

“ Minecraft , motherfucker.”

“…not really a gamer but my partner and I like to go to the neighborhood board game night…”

“I don’t game, but there’s a brewery in the Universal Hallway that hosts ‘Ales and Ideas’ every week…”

The demons, many of them verging on—if not already—drunk, started talking over each other, bickering cheerfully and striking up conversations about everything and nothing. Lily had achieved a pleasant level of buzzed, which in her mortal life was where she would have called it a night. She leaned against the table, sucking down the rest of the sinfully delicious margarita she’d been served in a demon-sized glass, and reached for the basket of golden-brown fries.

They hadn’t needed to start drinking to swap stories. No, that had started long before they’d ever reached their destination, a delightful and apparently very popular pub called Seven Deadly on one of the demon residential levels. Despite the size of the pub, the architecture was stunningly delicate, featuring rib-vaulted ceilings painted and carved with frescoes in rich colors and bas relief sculptures. But glorious ceiling aside, it was comfortable and unpretentious, with a long bar made of some kind of dark, glittery stone and an abundance of tables. The entertainment stage sat empty, though a small area had been left open for dancing.

It was busy, but not packed; demons of all heights, colors, and professions gathered together in a dull roar of conversation and laughter over music. It was a veritable forest of horns, some twisted, some perfectly straight, some forked, some broken, some with elaborate adornment, some plain. The odd set of wings stood out here and there, leathery and bat-like, tipped with a spike at the apex. No one wore particularly bright colors, but there certainly wasn’t an absence of colorful clothing. In addition to the apparently very popular black and gray attire that made her feel right at home, a rainbow of jewel tones and deep shades tantalized the eye.

It was beautiful .

“Please say you’ll join our Invaders lobby at least once,” Crocell begged. “Krun and his wife play with us.”

“Only after the kids are in bed,” Krun said. “But yes, please do join us. It’s very fun.”

“I’m down, if I can find a computer to play on.”

Crocell drained his drink, gagged, and set the glass on the table with a flourish. “It’s been a while since I was in school, but isn’t the saying ‘Paradise provides’ or something? Like stuff just kind of happens there, right?”

“I mean, yeah?” Lily said slowly, wondering how the hell she was supposed to ask her Paradise for a computer. Ha! How the hell …

“Cool. I’m gonna get another drink, wanna come?” Crocell asked, only slurring slightly.

Lily was halfway off her stool before he’d finished asking. Three other demons slipped free of their seats with them, moving toward an empty section of the bar in a drunken herd. Lily only noticed a few curious glances aimed her way, probably thanks to the fact that she’d glimpsed one or two other mortal souls—at least what she thought were mortal souls—in the crowd at one point.

One of the bartenders, a turquoise-skinned female demon, stopped in front of them, drying a glass with a cloth. She was so stunningly pretty that Lily’s mind went completely blank.

“New round?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Crocell said flirtatiously, bracing his forearms on the bar. “What do you recommend, Dialen? We’re celebrating.”

One of Dialen’s perfect dark eyebrows arched upward, her diamond-fire eyes glittering with amusement. “I noticed,” she said dryly, just as a roar of laughter came from their table. “There’s not much to celebrate at the gate, so what gives?”

One of the other demons threw an arm around Lily’s shoulder and she swayed.

“We’re celebrating her . She— hic —pulled some stunt with a sign and helped us. Masterful work with the bat and the words, the very good words, and the—”—they waved a hand at her— “the yes.”

“I have a talented tongue,” Lily said to clarify. Then realized—then didn’t care. She grinned a little flirtatiously.

Dialen’s smile turned feline, and her voice grew sultry, her eyes tracing a slow path down Lily’s body then back up. “I’ll bet you do, kitten.”

Heat pooled low in Lily’s belly and nearly shocked her into sobriety.

She hadn’t felt horny since…too damn long ago, and she hadn’t felt sexy or desirable for a lot longer than that. Double work shifts, long hours, stress, the chronic fatigue that should have been a clue, and not having a reason or energy to dress nicely, they’d all taken a toll.

Dialen was a seductive, glorious dream, with sly intelligence and humor glittering in those impossible eyes.

But something didn’t feel quite right. Emotionally anyway. It felt a bit like when she’d sprained her ankle as kid and tried to run on it a week before the doctor was supposed to give her the all clear. Healed, but not quite. Still a bit to go.

She leaned back, following that line of thought.

She’d always used sex as a pleasurable enough distraction even though she’d craved the intimacy of, well, actual intimacy. It had been a hollow comfort for her, but a comfort nonetheless.

Aha, that was the issue at hand. She didn’t want a distraction or some kind of erotic emotional Band-Aid, however pleasurable. She wanted it to matter .

Oh. She wrinkled her nose at herself, watching Dialen’s nimble hands fly as she made a cocktail.

Damn it all. Being horny again was a gift , a thrill she thought she’d never get to experience again. But it wasn’t enough on its own anymore. If she leapt into the physical side of things, even if she thought that actual intimacy could grow, she knew she’d more than likely fall into old habits.

Annoying, that.

She could still flirt though.

“Dialennn,” complained a wiry, androgynous demon with burgundy skin. “You can flirt with Ms. Lily later. We’re trying to celebrate an easy shift . Well, easy-ish. Eashish? Shishish?”

“No, there’s gotta be an e in there somewhere,” their friend pointed out.

Dialen pointed a manicured nail at them. “I should cut you both off for that little speech alone.”

“Nooooo!” they wailed in near perfect unison.

“I’ll be good!”

The other demons joined together in a plaintive chorus, assuring Dialen that they’d never done anything wrong a day in their very long lives and would never dare misbehave in a pub, no matter how drunk they got.

Lily might have been drunk, but not nearly drunk enough to believe a word out of their mouths. She laughed anyway, lighter than she’d been in a long time, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Moments later, Dialen plunked a giant glass full of shimmering gold-and-purple liquid in from of her.

“It’s called the Permanent Vacation, and it creeps up on you like a motherfucker.” Dialen’s sly grin softened slightly, and she leaned over the bar. “My brother works on Level Six, and he used to work at the gate. He doesn’t tell me much, but he’s told me enough to know that whatever you did today? Shit, the fact that you even wanted to help? That makes you a hero. To them, to him, and by extension, me. Even if it was a one-time thing, thank you.”

Odd, to be serious and drunk at the same time.

“I don’t think I did anything all that special,” Lily said honestly. It was easier to be honest and drunk than serious and drunk. Serious and honest and drunk and—oh, she hoped hangovers weren’t a thing in the Afterlife. “I just tried to help by, I dunno, I was my smartass self, I guess. Customer service can suck, and I wanted to help. That’s not very heroic. Or at least, I don’t feel very heroic.”

“Being yourself—really, authentically yourself—that’s a heroic feat, yeah?” Dialen cocked her head to the side, the inky silk of her ponytail sliding over her shoulder. “Universe knows I’ve struggled with it.” She clinked a nail against the base of the glass, then chucked Lily’s chin with a wink. “Drink up, Ms. Lily , it’s okay to be celebrated sometimes.”