The sirens faded, replaced by a vast silence that came with cold. So cold she gasped and drew some into her lungs and then couldn’t expel it. She could distantly feel his arm around her. A rushing whoosh that turned into a distant mournful scream then a pop as the cold vanished, replaced by heat.
She choked as she expelled the chill from her lungs and took a few heaving breaths that singed before she looked around.
Then she looked again.
Bye-bye, sidewalk outside the motel.
She’d gone from winter in the city to a dusty cobbled road and a cloudy, orange-hued sky, raining ash.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Welcome to Hell.”
She startled at the new voice. Marduke tightened his hold even as he turned them to greet the speaker, a man in his forties, maybe older, with silver temples, distinguished features, wearing a tuxedo. He carried a baby dressed in a frilly red dress, wearing a headband with a massive bow.
“Who are you?” Merry exclaimed.
“I am the one and only amazing Lucifer.” He yelped and proffered the baby. “This is the equally wonderful Jujube. And let me repeat, welcome to Hell. My Hell,” he purred softly.
“I’m dreaming.”
“I assure you you’re not. You are indeed in Hell. The first circle, to be exact, because I like to have the kennels near the palace.”
She blinked. “Um.” She glanced around the reddish hellscape. The smiling man. The scowling Marduke. And finally, her son, who seemed nonplussed that the puppy by his side suddenly had eyes of pure molten red.
She fainted.
15
“What is wrong with you?” Marduke glared at Lucifer. This only after he caught Merry and laid her gently on the ground. Then yelled at the devil.
“Me? I merely thought to greet her, and how does she thank me? Goes to sleep. Rude. I tell you, I’m liking her more and more.”
Jujube squirmed and got seated on the ground, where she crawled for the puppy—no wait, the boy—who eyed her with trepidation.
“It’s my fault. I didn’t warn her we were coming here.”
“More like she couldn’t handle me in person. It’s hard I tell you. People meet me and just can’t handle my virility.” Lucifer preened.
Marduke sighed. “Why me?” He’d gone long periods of time without speaking to the Dark Lord, and now he couldn’t turn around without running into him.
“Why because it’s your turn.” Lucifer grinned in a way that boded well for no one.
“Turn for what?”
The devil flicked him a business card. On it a grim reaper scythed a heart with the words, “Grim Dating is dying to match you.”
“Oh, like fuck. I told you not to interfere.”
“Like I’d listen to you,” Lucifer scoffed. “Besides it’s too late.”