God gave a sheepish smile. “Well, that was step one in the plan. For my part, I had to be sure that you possessed enough strength of character to be worthy. Hence, I promised that once you were born, you would be raised in Hell, the same as any other Lucifer offspring, naïve to the true purpose of your life. I needed to see how your conscience would develop outside of my influence.”

She reached out, booping me on the nose. “And you, my clever, compassionate son, even under pressure to save Hell, the only home you’d ever known, could not follow through with your plan for Jemma Bliss, because you knew it to be wrong. You found your father’s soul reaping trickery distasteful, unethical … evil …”

“I’ve reaped a soul,” I confessed angrily, sucking on my teeth because I wanted to snap them at Her. “I reaped him without a second thought.”

With a chuckle that sent Her silvery blonde hair swishing around Her face as if She were in some human haircare commercial, She interjected, “And you could not keep down the contents of your stomach afterwards, despite the little wretch in question being more than deserving of his fate.” She sobered, taking a deep breath. “And that is your compassion, Sim—Satan Junior. The thing that sets you apart from other demons. The thing that proves you are ideal to unite our two kingdoms and restore balance.”

“And I suppose my ‘compassion’ comes from you?” I sneered, storming over to the windows and staring out at the fluffy white clouds carpeting the endless blue. “Where was your compassion when you deliberately and premeditatively starved my people?” I pressed a hand to the glass. If I broke it, would I fall to the Human Realm? Would I survive? “Where was your compassion when you abandoned your own offspring to be raised there?”

I resented the tightness in my chest as the words ripped from me, but I refused to leave them unsaid. “I always felt like I didn’t belong. And I never understood why. I was left to constantly strive to be … to be like my father and my sister, and I always feel like I could never live up to them, no matter how much I forced myself—until I felt sick with my deeds—to be what they expected of me.”

“And I am sorry for that, son.” Was that a hint of true regret in Her tone? No, that couldn’t be possible. No one who had played the long and cunning game She had would feel remorse. But She continued, “It was the only way to ensure that your … goodness was nature, rather than nurture.”

I rounded on Her, horns flaring with my rage. “You think that you would nurture goodness in anyone?” I guffawed. “Nothing about this gives me any confidence that you have a single skerrick of virtue in you!”