A deal with the devil

Once upon a time I made a deal with the devil.

The sky was an inferno of sunlit cloud on the edge of dusk when I found the Book of Yahweh. The desert was an orange ocean hiding stone pages that I prised from the depths of the icy tomb. I grinned, licking my lips as I recognised the ancient script.

"Liber dei." I whispered softly, the sound snaking its way across the worn stone. "The Book of God."

"What's that?" My assistant drawled, his empty irises reflecting a university degree back at me. I always thought universities were where dreams went to die.

"Do you know the story of Lilit?" I asked, my bloodred lips stretching into an elegant smile.

He snorted and those blank eyes flashed facts at me. Rationale. A detestation of religion. Science, with all its lurid numerals.

"I don't believe in religion. You may as well ask me about fairy stories." He said, shooting me a condescending look.

"Lilit was the wife of Adam and the first woman. The best, in my opinion." I paused and brushed the sand from my tight cotton trousers. The graduate's eyes followed the movement, lingering on my chest. "When she disobeyed, angels went and tried to drag her back to her designated place. But she had stolen the Book of Yahweh, which contained mighty spells woven by God. With one spell, she sent the angels packing. God wasn't happy, of course, but then he never is."

"And you've found this mysterious book?" He asked, shifting closer to me. I watched as a shadow slithered from a distant pillar, growing and stretching into a shape very like a man. It crept up behind the graduate and I held my smile as I rested my fingers on the first stone page.

I leaned forwards, my breath misting the air in front of his face. He inhaled, scenting jasmine. His pupils expanded. The shadow was so close to him now.

"That can be our little secret." My lips gently brushed his cheek at the last word. Men were so predictible.

The shadow reached out, its darkened fingers growing into something grotesque. Those fingers became blades and light skittered off them. The graduate was breathing heavily, his mouth turning to mine slowly. A bird arced acoss the fiery heavens, riding the howling wind.

He opened those lips to kiss me or reply. Truthfully, I didn't care to know. At that exact moment the shadow touched him, those blades slicing through skin and sinew, and the graduate fell down dead.

My hand was firmly on the stone as I traced the patterns his blood made on the sandy stone. I took a moment to breath, enjoying the dying heat of the day. I raised my head to look at the shadow, who was now a man.

"A pleasant evening, isn't it?" I asked, my smile returning to its proper place. A charming grin graced the man's tanned face. He was dapper in the way gentlemen ought to be, a blue suit hugging his lean frame. Only ink black eyes and a cruel mouth ruined the image.

"Stunning." He replied, his voice byzantine silk. "Of course, it always was in this part of the world."

He rolled the last word in his mouth and stretched it: wooorrrrlllddd. It shivered in the warm air, skittering over the stones, panicking at its birth. I listened to it die, that smile still gracing my mouth. The Devil scowled.

"I assume you've come to make a deal. You're late, you know." I said and let out a tinkling laugh. "I expected you earlier."

The Devil tilted his head, his eyes growing larger in his face. I laid my palm flat onto the stone, the river of divine words flowing through my mortal mind. His face was frozen, the caricature of a man shifting back to shadow for a heartbeat. Then it reassembled itself into a grinning man once more.

"I am always on time." He drawled, pairing the words with a bone-chilling laugh. "Thank you for the snack."

He deigned to glance down at the graduate soaking the ground. Those dead eyes still contained that degree, ranting reason and conformity. What a waste. I breathed out as a spell was birthed in my mind.

"It's rare, Miss Angelou, that I solicit a deal. But you have caught my interest." He chuckled, a sound similar to a growling lion. "So...what shall it be? A thousand years of bliss? Powers beyond your wildest imagination? Your greatest wish come true? What shall it BE?"

At the last word, a gust of wind tore through the ruins and slammed into me, almost dislodging my hand from the Book. But I held my smile and dispelled it. His mouth twitched and the suit shimmered, a desert mirage.

"I already have powers beyond my imagination." I said, tilting my head in a mirror of his. His smile flickered, a candle dying. He thought I didn't know the power of this book. "What I want is something more...singular. With this Book, you could best all the angels of God. Perhaps even God himself."

The Book jerked in eagerness, for it knew the truth of my words. It wanted to best its maker, as do all creations. I watched the Devil contemplate this and the gleam in his eye reminded me of the edge of a black hole. Light shuddering around a void, not knowing it was doomed.

"What do you want, Miss Angelou?" He finally asked, all charm lost in bluntness.

"I want a fairy story." I replied, my eyes diving into his voids. "I want you to fall in love and then you can have the Book of God."

His voids widened and then he truly laughed, a booming sound of thunder. It went on for a good while, but my smile still held.

"I'm waiting for the punchline." He said, another laugh bubbling in his throat. I sighed, letting the silence stretch just like his 'worrrlllddd' earlier. He glared, disliking that. He didn't care to wait for anything.

"It's no joke. You fall in love with something other than yourself, truly, then you may have this Book." I said, a thread of dusklight lingering on my boots. He continued to glare, his hands clenching into fists, his nails morphing into talons. I didn't pay them any mind.

"And what do you get out of this little deal?" He asked. "The joy of reforming this poor old devil? Of teaching me to mend my ways? Maybe it can be done."

A vulnerable smile crossed his face, mocking innocence. But I didn't care about any of that.

"I get the usual fail safe, of course." I said, my lips widening my smile until I showed the barest hint of teeth.

"My soul?" He asked, innocence forgotten. "You are daring, Miss Angelou."

I inclined my head. Of course I was. But the Devil needed this Book the way a mortal needs air. He could not unearth what had been hidden by the first woman, Lilit. But I could, as her descendant. He wanted to defeat his maker. That wanting ate away at him, as the night now ate at the dusk, gnawing the shallow soul I wanted.

"You can't do it? I'm not surprised. All love comes from God and you're certainly not him." I unleashed an ugly laugh. He scowled, baring his teeth at me. He couldn't bear losing to his father.

"I can do it." He snarled, and my smile wavered. "I can love something. I just find it to be a useless emotion."

"So we have a deal?" I purred, raising a brow.

"I'll have the Book and your soul when I win. You shall come with me to hell." He said, that innocent smile again on his lips. I didn't flinch.

"If you can fall in love with someone truly within ten years, then you may have my soul and the Book. If you lose, your soul is mine. So, it's a deal." I said, and there was an instant flash of light. I felt the sting of the bond between us, a thread of shadow taut throughout the world. He was gone and night had fallen, a lonely moon dripping silver on the dunes. I was all alone. I laughed as I sauntered towards the vehicle, hefting the book along with me.

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I found him within the week. I watched him as he tried to charm young ladies, their pretty mouths wide as he wove lovely lies, their empty eyes yearning for truth. When he kissed them and found his pleasure. When he failed, his howls haunting cities.

I laughed until I cried as I watched. I created gold from base metal, amused myself by spinning butterflies from flowers, one hand on the book and both eyes on his failure. The rainy sky of England cried along with me, the top of the Tower of London peeking out of fog.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I asked, chuckling. He threw a book of poems at my feet, his voids sparking with something like light.

"You knew this would happen, mortal. When I drag you down to hell-" He shouted in thunderous tones but I interrupted him.

"Is that still happening? You're failing rather spectacularly. That last girl was crying her eyes out. It's very sad." I mimed a frown and he shouted incoherently in rage.

"Abigail, you'll regret this." He snarled and I laughed again. He stormed away and tried again with young men. He dazzled them with wit, gave them the most haunting nights of their lives and yet...when he declared his love the deal lived on. We moved from rainy England to sizzling San Diego and onto Paris and Tokyo. In every city and country, he continued to fail. And I continued to laugh.

Five years later, he had given up on youth and was now trying to uncover the charm of middle aged spinsters and elderly patients. When the final forty year old burst into tears, he attempted to love her dog. The dog bit him. I watched, the Book in my hands, and wove a rabies shot to give to him.

"Don't even bother. Have you got anything to eat, Abi? I'm starving in this mortal form. This loving business isn't as easy as it seems." He said, bags under his mortal eyes. They had something in them now. He scowled as he admitted his failure. I rolled my eyes.

"I told you so. I've been dying to say that for ages. And yes, here's something to eat." I passed him an apple, which glowed golden. "Good and evil tastes very sweet, I hear."

"Haha, you're hilarious." He said but a tired grin pulled at his face. "Can you believe her dog bit me? Only you could lower me to this. I've never met a mortal that could do it."

"Thank you for the compliment, evil incarnate. I knew I was right. I knew you couldn't love anything." I tucked into my apple, relishing the extra dose of knowledge. I had the Book and then I would have the Devil. Hell would be mine.

"I'm too tired to love anyone tonight. I'm staying with you." He said, rubbing his eyes. He stomped into the flat I was living in and sank into the couch, talons shredding a pillow.

I scowled and chucked another pillow at him, irritated by his messiness. He watched T.V with tired eyes and we argued over characters a mortal had created in boredom. His smile became less devious, his eyes less empty but still the deal lived on.

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Nine years and three hundred and sixty days later we lived on the west coast of Scotland, the wind hammering waves against the cliff near our home. The cottage was a creation of mine, sturdy and lovely from the words of God. We liked to watch the birds hang still in the gusts, their heads angled towards heaven. The pines stood straight and tall, and we walked among them most mornings.

"Aren't you going into the village?" I asked him, expecting a last attempt at loving. He hadn't done that in a long time. The last was years ago, and the woman smashed his favourite cup into so many shards.

"No. We're going for lunch at that new place, don't you remember?" He muttered, his arm going around my waist. He liked to do that now. Perhaps just to remind himself that he wasn't alone. I liked it too, most of the time. The Book lay on a shelf, covered in magazines and library books that were overdue. Truthfully, I didn't use it much anymore. Power got boring eventually.

"I did forget." I said, a smile pulling at my bare lips. He shot me a mischievious look. "I know that look. You don't want to go, do you? You want me to make that cake."

He smiled, and there was no snarl in it. The warm scent of cinnamon twined with the flames in the hearth and we laughed together as I attempted to bake. He pressed a kiss to my neck and I blinked, surprised. He had been doing that for a while now, too. We didn't talk much about hell anymore, or heaven. He didn't rail against God either and only a thoughtful smile would soften his mouth.

On the last day of the deal, I didn't know what to do.

It was odd, that bond between us. It wasn't as taut as it used to be, a shadowy horrid rope. Now it floated, lighter in colour, a shimmering white. When the deal ended, he wasn't even in the cottage. I tried to summon triumph in my heart but I only felt...queasy. He went out to the shops, as if he'd forgotten it entirely.

What if he had fallen in love? What if he was gone for good? My heart thrummed like a hummingbird. The wind sang a keening song out the window, something divine and forgotten long ago.

A buzzing sound and a thunk at the door distracted me. Was it him? Was he home? I wrenched open the door, my bones wearier than they had been in the desert years ago. A package sat on the welcome mat we had chosen. It was addressed to me.

Abigail Angelou.

It was very light and I lifted it, gently placing it on the dining table. He hadn't liked the style of it at first but I'd won him over. Where was he? My hands anxiously touched the box. Why wasn't he back?

I ripped off the tape, wondering who would send something to me. Maybe our neighbours, who asked about our anniversary. Maybe not.

My mouth quivered, so uncontrolled in recent years, and I slowly lifted the lid of the box.

Inside, was a glowing orb. It was familiar, its wild song calling out to me. It shone a silvery white and within it I could see a desert and cities and a home from when I was young. That was not very like a home at all. Tears coalesced at the corner of my eyes and I touched the orb, feeling something settle deep within me. The bond strengthened, the deal floating above my head in a connection forged from light. I followed it to its end and he walked in the door.

The sharp scent of pine clung to his shirt, and a bunch of flowers were in his hands. He smiled when he saw the box. It was so...mortal.

"Happy anniversary, Abi." He said, in that new peaceful way of his. Or was it so new? "I thought I would tell you like this. I'm giving back your soul, even though I couldn't bear to part with it, because it will make you happy."

I stared at him, relieved and yet...confused. A bird chirped in joy up above us.

"But...the deal-" I began.

"Was broken years ago. I fell in love with you years ago." He replied, giving me a soft kiss on the mouth as I stood so very still. "I'm mortal with you now. I don't want the Book, but I know you loved playing with it."

Then he cut the stems from the flowers and placed them in a glass vase I bought months ago at a market we went to. A tear fell lightly onto the table, washing away my fears. He fell in love with me.

The wind continued its divine song and I kissed him as the sky lit up in a shimmering brilliance, where God perhaps rested, finding love in peace. My soul nestled between us, and I felt the existence of his there too. The deal was done.