I sobered. What if he decided to make my punishment worse for making him feel lustful towards me? Maybe I should ease off until I had a bit of an idea of what he planned for this first ‘payment’. Test the waters of how bad this whole experience might be for me before I set about potentially making it worse.

He tugged an apple out of one of the grocery bags and turned it in his hand, staring at it with far more interest than it deserved. “Why do you visit the healing centre every week?” he asked suddenly.

Well. Whatever I’d been expecting him to say, that was not it.

“The-the hospital?” I asked, stunned. He nodded, polishing the apple against his charcoal shirt.

“I …” I honestly had no idea what to say. It was none of his business, really … except for the fact that he owned a part of my soul and would own the remainder unless I played my cards right.

“I visit sick kids.” There. That was an honest answer.

His eyes found mine, that stormy grey searching. I couldn’t hold the intensity of his gaze, so I spun back to the fridge, wrenching the door open and randomly moving items to different shelves in an effort to seem busy.

“Are the visits some form of penance? What do you humans call it? Community servitude?” He sounded truly intrigued, and words started bubbling out of me.

“Community service,” I corrected, staring at the lid of a tub of yoghurt without taking in a single detail about it. “And no … well, it is a service, I suppose. But it’s voluntary. I … do arts and crafts with some girls who are in hospital for extended stays.”

“What is wrong with the younglings?” he pressed, pinching the apple stalk and twisting it away from the fruit. “Are they dying?”

I swallowed. “I really hope not,” I muttered before my brain could catch up with my mouth. And then it did. And I rounded on him, eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

He bit into the apple, his eyes an unreadable silvery grey.

“I’m merely curious,” he replied around a mouthful. A trickle of apple juice ran from the corner of his mouth down to his chin. I watched it, mesmerised. Then I shook myself.

Stupid, handsome devil, distracting me with his juicy chin!

“Don’t you get any ideas about those girls!” I hissed, stepping closer and snatching the apple from him. “I know you think you can do whatever you like to me until I earn that little bit of soul back from you, but they are off-limits!”

Satan Junior raised an eyebrow, his lips turning down. “What sort of creep do you think I am?” he asked in a wounded tone.

Oooh, he was a very good actor!