Page 90 of A Chip on Her Shoulder

“Darlene,” the Devil chided.

“You’re the fucking Devil. Why are you stopping me? You like when people sin. Let me go add some corpses to my rap sheet so I can earn my place in hell, damn it!”

The mafia thugs, who wore more than a little of their boss’s blood, gaped at us.

“Darlene, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your forehead. Your playdate with death has been postponed on account of your decision to pretend you’re a unicorn.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose. It doesn’t hurt. Let me at them. You gave me that bat, and I want to use it.”

The Devil sighed. “Excuse me, gentlemen. My wife is a little upset your former friend thought he could hurt a part of her family, and she becomes quite unreasonable when it comes to her family.”

“I haven’t married you yet, you kill-stealing asshole.”

“But you will. Settle down so I can remove your horn.”

“Just leave the fucking thing there so I can get to beating them to death. You like unicorns. You should be happy I’m honoring their spirit through the accidental growth of a horn.” Struggling did me no good, and I grunted at the strength of his hold on me.

“No. You’ll injure yourself further.”

Why the hell was the Devil trying to stop me? I hissed and snarled, but I couldn’t wiggle out of his damned hold on me. “Why are you being like this?”

“I thought it was obvious. You’ve hurt yourself, and if I allow you to continue your rampage, you’ll hurt yourself further. As I’ve come to the conclusion I do quite love you, this means I have to stop your rampage before you do something I regret, which does include hurting yourself further. If these gentlemen are wise, they will reconsider their life choices, sit down, and wait for you to calm down so you can issue a more appropriate punishment for their misdeeds.”

Two decided to run, and the youngest of the lot sat down, crossed his legs, and waited patiently.

Shifting his hold on me to free a hand, the Devil snapped his fingers. Two devils, not even bothering to take on a human form, popped into being in a dark cloud of smoke, which stank of brimstone and molten metal. While I recognized Belial, his grotesque form reminded me of a tomato crushed under foot with hooked tentacles and sharp protrusions glistening under an eerie yellow glow emanating from his quivering flesh.

Crushed tomatoes with hooked tentacles and spikes would be a lot less horrifying without Belial’s face added to the mix.

The other devil vaguely resembled a six-legged dog with burning flesh and spines for fur, and to my relief, it lacked a humanoid face.

Whatever. I’d deal with Belial’s form another time, preferably after consuming a great deal of alcohol. “You’re the one with the head injury, Lucifer.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You claim you love me, but you won’t let me kill them,” I complained. “Wouldn’t love be letting me kill them?”

“No. Now stop squirming so I can remove that damned glass shard out of your head without adding to your injuries.”

As there were two devils stalking my prey, and even I couldn’t justify killing someone who’d sat down and shut up when given an option to save his skin, I limited my protests to bitter cursing, minimal wiggling, and kicking my feet.

It wasn’t as if the Devil, who had a fucking steel beam for an arm, was going to let me loose until he felt like it. He reached for my face, and I barely felt him pluck the shard out of my forehead.

When I looked at it, the rounded end of the vial could be mistaken for a very odd horn. Blood dripped from the broken end, which had held the stopper once upon a time. “How did that even happen?”

“Good question.” The Devil lowered me to the ground, and I regretted having kicked my shoes off. As though aware I might join the fray, he kept a firm hold on me. “Remember, the one that sat down is in a similar situation to your brother’s, and you could possibly reform him with sufficient training. Of course, I wouldn’t release him into society without some education, but he’s not unsalvageable.”

“Why are you wanting me to salvage him?” I stretched my leg, doing my best to reach my bat with my toes. The Devil picked me up, moved me safely out of reach of anything I might use as a weapon, and set me down. “Will you stop that? I could have reached that if not for you.”

“You would regret beating him later.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Are you really, really sure?”

“My darling, you’re more bloodthirsty than most of my devils. You need a nap. Just take a nap already so I can attend to your forehead, tuck you in, and evaluate how long you get to be punished for daring to be injured.”