AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The man nods eagerly, waiting expectantly. I hope he comes to Hell because I'll ensure he's at the mercy of the most sadistic torture demon I can find. He has traded the life of an innocent for his own gain. Such a shameful thing to do. I smile because I am a demon, after all.
“What more do you need?” I ask impatiently when the man doesn't leave.
“Don't I need to sign my name in blood or something?” he asks, spreading his hands in front of him, clearly confused.
“Oh, no. We’ve made the agreement. It's etched on your soul. You cannot escape it now." I pause, wondering at the wisdom of my next words. "But you still have the chance to alter your destiny if you change your ways now. If not, I'll be seeing you when your soul is ready to be claimed.” I shoo the man away, my boredom quickly returning. A plaything would be pleasant, but pure souls can be as boring as… well… Hell. Not that it's "boring" down here for the soulless, but it can be for me.
“I’m done for the day, Lucifer. I’m taking a break for a couple of days. Do you need anything?” I call into the darkness, waiting for a response.
His response comes as a disembodied chuckle, a shiver of sound that would send tremors of fear down a human spine but only makes me frown slightly. “No, Mammon. Have a good time. Don’t forget to write. You know I love a naughty postcard.”
I shake my head at the playful note in Lucifer’s voice. As if he’d ever read any postcards sent to him. And he certainly doesn't give a shit if I have a good time.
Snapping my thumb and middle finger, I transport myself to the Riviera, the playground of the rich and entirely soulless. I blend into the crowds of humans and monsters and find a room for the night.
For now, my job is done, but soon, I'll be back at work. Too bad, I think as I settle into a sun lounger with a cold drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. I like it in The Above. Things are so…relaxed. No crying, no screams, no young men with their weird, greedy gestures that remind me of rats, and nobody willing to trade a soul for me to deal with. I can enjoy some peace for a change.
Putting in my earbuds and using a long black talon to pull up my music app on my phone, I revel in a moment of tranquility, forgetting all about the date I have in the future.
Chapter Three
Penelope
I stare at the pure white lace and silk gown on the hanger. Glancing at Diana, I tilt my head to the side as my eyebrows pull down in confusion. “It looks like a wedding dress.”
“Yeah, it kind of does. But all of your ball gowns look like wedding dresses to me.” Diana shrugs, unimpressed.
“No, they’re all ball gowns with flared skirts. This one is fitted, with a mermaid tale thingy and a deep cleavage. It’s also covered in lace. It’s…different.” I study the dress again, unsure why I'm so unsettled. The gown is exquisite, but I can't believe it's mine. “Are you sure my father sent this to me?”
“The box had your name on it, my lovely. Now, come on, let’s get you into it.” Diana gestures for me to put on my underwear and tries to figure out how to open the back of the dress. “This thing is complicated.”
“I noticed that,” I say, pulling my bra around to cover my breasts before sliding on the panties that match my skin tone perfectly. “I don’t like this.” I chew on my bottom lip, my eyes narrowed on the dress. Diana is the closest thing I have to a friend, the guard brave enough to speak to me. I feel I can safely voice my concerns to the other woman. “Something is going on.”
“I’m sure it’s just a new fashion phase in ballgowns. Maybe now you're twenty-one, your father is allowing you to dress like a grownup and not some doll or cartoon character,” Diana reasoned, holding the dress open for me to step into. “Either way, this is the dress he had delivered for you. Step in, my lovely.”
I shrug, my trust in my father reasserting itself. Maybe I'm hormonal or something. My father has never given me a reason to doubt him, and if I can trust anyone, it's him. Right?
I suck in my stomach as Diana pulls the dress up my body. I look down at myself to see the tops of my breasts on display and feel exposed. I look at the dress box hopefully. “Maybe there’s a lace jacket or something that goes with it?”
Diana shakes her head. “Nope, nothing else in there, only the dress.” She sounds distracted as I work my arms into the sleeves, and she zips, buttons, and laces me up at the back. “This is going to be terrible to take off later.”
“I’ll pull it over my head or something. Don’t worry about staying up and waiting for me. Father will ensure I’m back safe and sound later,” I reply confidently, smiling at Diana as I turn. I can barely breathe. I'm a curvy girl, and the dress is so tight, I'm sure my boobs are about to explode from the sweetheart neckline. “Unless you want to stay up and watch ‘I Married a Monster’ with me later?”
“You know I’m not supposed to let you watch TV,” Diana warns. She shakes her finger at me as if scolding a naughty child, but the corners of her lips turn up as she smiles. “But I do want to know if Clarissa chooses the orc or the gargoyle tonight. She's been playing those two against each other from the beginning.”
“Ooh, yes. I want to know too,” I breathe, trying to hold back the laughter threatening to bubble free. If I laugh, I may faint from lack of air because I'm pretty sure the dress has already fractured one of my ribs. This dress is pure torture. Why did my father choose it? “I think I have a silk shawl in my bag. I’m going to grab that.”
“Oh, your father is ready for you,” Diana says, her eyes on her smartwatch. “He’ll be here in two minutes.”
“Thanks,” I answer, grabbing the shawl and wrapping it around myself to cover my exposed skin. I may legally be an adult now, but I'm not used to showing off my… assets.
Two minutes later, the door opens, and my father steps in, his face happier than I've ever seen when he spots me… until he frowns. “That shawl won’t do. Leave it here, dear.”
“Yes, Father,” I say, dropping the shawl with a wistful look. “You must be excited for the ball…”
“Indeed, I am. I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this moment. I promise you, Penelope, tonight will be unlike anything you’ve experienced.” My father chuckles as he takes my arm and guides me from my room to the elevator that will take us down to the waiting car.
I glance at my father, noting something cold in his demeanor, something that makes my skin prickle. Or maybe it's the chilly air. The dress is sleeveless, and I'm used to being covered from head to toe, even during the hottest months of summer. I don't say it aloud, but the evening is already unlike anything I've experienced.
