Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

NYX

T hree hundred millennia down, eternity to go.

When you're a demon, life is an endless cycle of death and torture. If the damned souls survive long enough to redeem themselves in the eyes of the Almighty, they disappear from Hell only to be replaced by other, worse sinners. One tends to bleed into the other until they all look and sound the same. I can't be bothered to remember the names of the damned, nor their faces, but one thing sticks in my mind: They all get to leave eventually, whether it's through redemption or their souls simply give out and cease to exist.

It's a modest life. Get up, go to work, torture heathens, then go home until it's time to do it all over again. As a low-level demon, not even middle management, there's not much more to hope for.

Until, that is, the Dark Lord summons me one ordinary day, and my life changes forever.

A summons from the Dark One isn't necessarily unusual, except for one odd request: His orders demand that I appear in human form.

I choose my normal human form, though it's been an age or three since I've worn it. Red hair, green eyes, feminine curves. Average height and weight for a female human, donned in the closest approximation I can make to the current human fashion. Leather garb hugs my body, chosen because it's the most protective clothing modern humans have without approximating military dress.

The other demons hoot and howl as I pass by on the way to the throne room, but I ignore them. Whatever reason the Dark Lord has for seeing me, it doesn't concern them.

When I arrive, I'm surprised to find the throne room nearly empty. The Dark Lord is there, of course, but the usual supplicants and sycophants are nowhere to be seen. He's joined only by a pair of hellhounds, which are chained to the throne. They chew on the bones of some departed soul, gnawing and gnashing to get at the marrow inside. The black-coated beasts are sleek and slender, with glowing white eyes and ancient sigils inscribed on their throats. Names, it seems, written in the infernal script. Long, pointed ears perk up at my entrance, and they pause in their meal to sniff at me. Their thin tails wag lazily as I approach.

"Nyx," the Dark Lord says, drawing out the x with a hiss as his forked tongue darts past his curled lips. His blood-red skin glistens in the flickering light from the hellfires lighting the room, and the crimson glow of his eyes highlights an almost unreadable expression on his cragged face. One might say he looks … mirthful. If the Dark Lord could be associated with mirth.

I kneel, as is customary in the Dark Lord's presence. "My Liege."

"Your prompt response is noted," he says, gesturing for me to rise. "I have a task for you, Nyx."

I place a fist over my heart. "As you command, so shall it be."

The Dark Lord chuckles. "Indeed." He points to the two hellhounds at his feet. "My hounds, Mordac and Tyrac, are in need of exercise. They have been cooped up in Hell for a century, and it's time for them to surface for a while. I would task you with guarding them on Earth and ensuring their safety."

Ensuring the safety of two vicious hellhounds? I'd think they would be capable of fending for themselves.

"How long will this foray be, My Lord?"

"One human week."

A whole week above ground? I can't believe my luck! Few demons of my rank get even an hour of Earth time, let alone an entire week.

"And where would you have me take them?"

He grins. "Las Vegas."

Ah, yes. The humans call it Sin City. An appropriate place to let the hounds have their fun, though it's not known for its abundance of parks or other spacious areas for me to "exercise" the beasts. I start making a mental list of what I might need to bring, and it occurs to me that humans in this age rely heavily on currency.

"My Lord, do the humans still deal in paper transactions? If so, I have no funds to speak of."

A small, thin plastic rectangle appears in his clawed hand. "Their currency is largely electronic now. This shall cover all your needs."

I take it from him with as much trust as I can muster. I fail to see how one tiny sliver of plastic can fund an entire week in Las Vegas. We will need lodging, food, transportation … though if the Dark Lord says this is sufficient, I have no choice but to accept it without question.

"When do we leave for the surface, My Lord?"

"Tonight," he says as he scratches Mordac between his ears. "Arrangements have been made for a room for you on what they call ‘The Strip,' in a new hotel called The Sinner's Delight. The hounds will not be questioned, and you will have free reign of the hotel's casino."

"Anything else?"

He pauses. Rubs his cleft chin. "That should be enough. See to it that the boys get their exercise. Maybe wreak a little havoc while you're at it. Have fun with it. Gamble, drink, be merry."

It all seems a little too simple, too easy, and I certainly wouldn't put it past the Dark Lord to have something up his sleeve here. Still, a vacation is a vacation, and watching the two hellhounds is a small price to pay for a week of freedom.

The hounds' chains morph into leather leashes, and the Dark Lord hands me the looped ends. "They are now your responsibility."

I expect the hounds to shapeshift as well, to take on more mortal canine forms, but they remain as hellish as ever. That could be problematic on Earth, where humans are unaccustomed to hounds with glowing eyes. I mention as much to the Dark Lord, but he waves it off.

"Humans are stupid. They will see what they wish to see. Besides, these hounds have … limited shifting abilities. They cannot take on the form of a mortal dog."

Interesting. Most demons and hellkin are capable of transforming to blend in with mortals, as I have. Once again I place my trust in the Dark Lord for this. It's been literal ages since I last walked among humans; it's entirely possible that they have lost their ability to recognize a demonic beast for what it is.

With my orders received and the hounds in my care, I expend a bit of demonic energy to portal to Vegas. We materialize in the most sin-laden place in the whole city …

… A wedding chapel?

The drunk couple at the altar turns to stare blankly at us, but they only give us a moment's attention before returning to the costumed officiant presiding over their nuptials.

I suppose it makes sense in a way. What greater sin is there than violating the sanctity of marriage like this? It fits with the Dark Lord's wicked sense of humor, and I imagine no small number of sins have their start in false chapels such as this one. I wonder if the officiant—dressed like a horror show reject—is even religious in the slightest. Probably an atheist. Agnostic at best.

I'd apologize for interrupting, but the couple is already pawing at each other again, our appearance forgotten in their lust.

Mordac and Tyrac sniff curiously at the scene, and before I can stop them, they each mount a leg and start humping the horny couple. A forceful tug on their leashes redirects them to follow me into the hot Vegas night. My knowledge of the city's geography is hazy, but it seems that we've apparated in the general vicinity of this Strip the Dark Lord spoke of. A few blocks down the congested street I see the neon sign for The Sinner's Delight, complete with red flashing devil horns above the letters.

"Come, you two. We should check in at this hotel and get settled. I have millennia of human customs and vernacular to catch up on, and I'd like to rest a while before we get started."

The two hounds whine in complaint, but they follow obediently enough. I vow to use the plastic card the Dark Lord gave me to get them something to eat once we're settled. I may be out of touch with humanity in recent centuries, but I know that hotels in this city cater to their residents' every need. So long as the guests emerge from their rooms long enough to gamble and spend, any comfort they desire can be delivered directly to them. Food, clothing, liquor—whatever I want or need.

As we make our way to the hotel, a few humans take notice of the hounds. They point and whisper, and one mother covers her children's eyes as she directs them to the other side of the walkway. A drunkard shrieks and runs away, but beyond that, it seems the hounds' appearance doesn't draw as much attention as I had thought it would.

Some of the humans—the males in particular—catch my eye, and I vow to venture out later, without the hounds. Perhaps I can find some humans to have some fun with while I'm Earthside. The Dark Lord didn't specifically forbid interactions with the humans, and what better havoc to wreak than to corrupt some unsuspecting males while having a good time of it? My bed in Hell has been empty for far too long, and Vegas is the perfect city in which to prowl for a convenient and willing mate … or mates.

I recognize the concierge at The Sinner's Delight as a fellow demon, making the check-in process a breeze. I don't have to pretend with him, and he even hands me a custom menu for the hounds. I order them some braised sinner delivered to the room, complete with unholy water to drink, but I opt for some human fare for myself. I've always been curious about burgers and fries. They're popular among mortals of this era, and I want to try some.

I also place an order for later, after midnight, a special delivery of human supplicants to the room for my personal enjoyment.

In our room, I settle on the king-sized bed with my food and flip through the channels on the television as I eat, trying to absorb as much vocabulary as possible. Human language is always changing, and if I don't learn the right words and phrases, I'll risk exposure. Stick out too much, and they call the priests on you. My last exorcism was in the pre-Christian days, but the rabbi was proficient enough to send me back to Hell in the most painful manner possible, and I'd rather avoid that again.

While perusing the channels, I find something the humans call "premium." A few button clicks later, and suddenly my clothing seems a tad … restrictive. I strip out of my leather garb as I watch the humans fuck onscreen and allow myself the luxury of tending to my more carnal desires. The hounds watch from the foot of the bed, tails wagging. I dip my fingers between my legs and work myself into a most satisfying orgasm before relaxing and drifting into a light doze.

After all, what can go wrong?