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“You could reject my claim if you want. Stay only the year and then return to the world above.” He hesitates, and I wait, because there has to be more. “And if you do… I will return to the Heavenly host.”
Return to God who banished him and left him to what she thought would be torture.
“What will she do to you if you go back?”
“I don’t know.”
Any number of cruelties pass through my mind.
There’s no reason I should feel this possessive of him. And yet….
I don’t want to leave. This place is the only one that has felt right in my life.
He feels right.
“Then I suppose it’s lucky we don’t have to find out.” Drawing his face to mine, I kiss him. I want to press all of myself to him. To feel as much of him as I am able.
But he wraps his hands around my head, pulling me back to look in my eyes. “I would release you, if you wish it.”
I believe him. “I haven’t served my sentence.”
The look he gives me is one usually reserved for petulant children. “And I am not your jailer. My rules no longer apply to you, Keres.”
My name on his lips makes me shiver. I didn’t realise how much I wanted to hear it.
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Hell is no place for saints. No matter how wicked they are.”
“Maybe not. But my place is with you.” Pressing up onto my toes, I whisper the words against his lips. “If you want to be rid of me, you can send me away. Otherwise… I’m not going anywhere.”
My fingers dig into the fur at his neck, and I voice the feeling I’d so recently told myself I should keep quietly inside.
“I’m yours if you want me to be… but you’re mine, even if you don’t.”
“So sure of yourself, are you, my little fool?”
I am.
And he knows I’m right. “You’ve spent an eternity torturing people… don’t torture yourself when you don’t have to.”
He passes his hand over my hair, smoothing it back… “I’m yours.”
The Devil’s Own
All Hallows Eve passes the same way it has for centuries.
At least, those dancing around us believe that to be true.
My Devil and I twirl through the saints and sinners as the timid risk a kiss on a devil’s disguise and vanish in a puff of smoke.
The sinners, however…. That disguise burns up around them and they fall through the obsidian floor.
I’ve rewritten the Devil’s rules so many times, it almost seems like the evil have no choice but to be punished as the saints are set free.
I watch another saint’s eyes go wide with terror before he vanishes.
They think there is still a risk of damning themselves with the Devil’s lips.
