at any time, a descendent of Sarah Goodswain fails to produce progeny, or if a descendent is unable to serve for any reason (e.g. death), the Devil shall use any means necessary to reinstate the line.”
“Since you won freedom for your sweet, little Grace, you are obligated to have another daughter. After all, someone must follow you into the family business.” She spoke casually, as if we were back to discussing tea.
My mouth was paper dry. “No.”
Her lips twitched. “What?”
I would not bring a child into the world for the sole purpose of being Helen Spry’s slave. My voice grew firmer. “No.” I shoved the brochure across her desk. “I will not do it.”
“Do you think you’re the first woman in Sarah Goodswain’s line who has tried to thwart me like this?” There was not a speck of mercy in her eyes. “I will give you the same choice I gave your mother when she refused to get pregnant. You either find a way to get yourself with child, or I will see that you do. I am happy to provide a civilized solution, but I will take harsher measures if necessary. And believe me, my way will not be pleasant.”
I knew my mother had been ordered to become pregnant with me, but I’d thought she’d done it willingly. But what if she hadn’t? Dark thoughts crept into my mind. If Helen wanted me pregnant, she would know men who were willing to do the deed. With or without my consent.
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled under her chin. “Why must you fight your destiny so hard?”
I stared woodenly at the picture of the baby on the brochure. “Leading innocent souls into Hell makes me sick.” This was the literal truth. Since becoming a succubus, I’d suffered more sleepless nights and upset stomachs than I had at any other time in my life, including the months I’d been embroiled in my divorce.
Helen laughed. “Innocent souls? Did I just hear you say innocent souls? What makes you think any of those are innocent?”
“Okay, so maybe they’re not innocent,” I amended, “but they’re not monsters, either. They don’t deserve Hell.”
A mocking smile tugged at her lips. “So those men who kidnapped you at gunpoint a few weeks ago…they don’t deserve to be punished?”
Gunpoint. I shuddered. The memory was fresh in my mind. Tied to a chair, I was helpless against the crazy man who pressed the cold muzzle of a handgun against my head. He was drunk and angry, two factors that made him unpredictable. My inner demon shouted at me to fight back, but I was sick and dizzy from a blow to the head. Concentrating was difficult. The man’s partner was setting up a camera, ready to film whatever was in store for me. I wanted to plead with them and let my succubus talk her way out of this mess, but duct tape sealed my lips. The man with the gun faced the camera and began to rave against the government. He gestured wildly with his free hand, but he kept the gun pointed at me. It was only a matter of time before he pulled the trigger. If I didn’t do something, I’d never make it out of the basement alive! Pushing aside my nausea, I struggled against the restraints. All I had to do was reach the otherworld doorway at the top of the steps. It was so close, yet so far away. Just when I thought that I was headed for an unmarked grave, my succubus came up with a plan. A plan that saved my life.
I realized that Miss Spry was still waiting for my answer. “Well, yes, they do deserve to be punished,” I admitted, “but…”
“But what? Do you want to overlook bad behavior? Let every offender get off scot-free?”
“No, of course not…”
She raised her eyebrows. “So what’s your objection?”
Miss Spry’s logic always twisted my brain. As I struggled to come up with a good rebuttal, she asked, “Did you think the names I give you were picked at random?”
I had, actually.
She smiled grimly. “Those names are given to you for a reason. If a human is being tempted, it’s because he deserves it. Heaven delivers rewards, and Hell delivers punishment. You may not like your job, but I assure you, it’s necessary.”
She was a liar, but a good one. I sensed there were flaws in her arguments, but I was too overwhelmed by her order to get pregnant to refute them.
“Now, I’ll give you some time to decide how you want to proceed with your insemination. But if you continue to stall, we’ll do things my way.”
In the short time I’d known her, Helen Spry had threatened my family, stolen my daughter, and nearly killed me. She’d spent the last nine months terrifying me, and as a result, I’d caved in to her demands over and over again. But like I’d promised Patrick Clerk, I was done being Helen’s toy. I’d won a reprieve for my daughter. I’d win this battle, too.
Feeling far less brave than I sounded, I lifted my chin and said, “I will not get pregnant for you. Helen.”
I’d never before used her first name to her face, and she blinked. “So it’s Helen now is it?”
“Yes.”
She smiled nastily. “Feeling powerful are we?”
It’s a good thing I was sitting down because I’d started to shake. I gripped the arms of the chair with sweating hands.
She came around to my side of the desk and sat on it. “Before you do something you’ll regret, let me give you some advice. I’ve seen seven generations of your ancestors pass through my office. At one time or another, each of them tried to grow a spine and defy me. When that happened, do you know what I told them?”
My mouth was too dry for me to speak, so I shook my head.
“I reminded them that I owned them body and soul.” As Helen became more and more angry, the forties-era glamour disappeared. Her demon took over, and her eyes grew hot. “I can do with you whatever I want. I can hurt you in ways you could never imagine. I can drag you to levels of Hell so terrible that a rational woman would go insane simply hearing about them.”
I began to sweat at my hairline. A trickle of moisture ran from my temple.
“I know more tortures than any other creature in the human universe, and I show no mercy. Try to cross me, and I will instantly have you cursing your own name.” Her neck stretched, becoming long and sinewy like a snake, and she put her face very near to mine. “Do you understand?”
It was all I could do to look at her terrible face. “Perfectly. Helen.” I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself, trying to prepare for whatever she sent at me next.
She laughed. “Oh, Lilith. You do amuse me, you poor, pathetic creature.”
I opened one eye, and when I saw that she no longer appeared monstrous, I opened the other one as well. She put the brochures back into her desk drawer. “I’ll give you some time to make a decision,” she said. “But don’t take too long.”
I hadn’t bested Helen – I certainly hadn’t expected to – but I’d held a measure of ground against her. That tiny victory had to count for something.
When I left Helen’s office, I found William Benedict sitting on the corner of Delilah’s desk.
William,
