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  Publisher’s Note:

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.

  Solstice Publishing - www.solsticepublishing.com

  Copyright 2017 – Rachael Tamayo

  Lucifer’s Game

  By Rachael Tamayo

  “Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.”

  —William Shakespeare

  Part One: Division

  Chapter One

  Cora

  The argument goes on and on. The sun goes down on us, me and the man I love, and we are getting nowhere. I’ve cried, pouted, and locked myself in the bedroom. Andrew has punched a hole in the wall and now hovers near the front door with his keys in his hand.

  Beautiful eyes are the color of cold stone set in his gorgeous face.  His dirty blonde hair is a shaggy mess under a Houston Rockets cap, placed on his head just before he grabbed his keys.

  “This is it Cora, I’m sick of all this shit. The crying and fighting, the bullshit doctors and test after test that goes nowhere. It’s not worth it.  Give it up now or I’m done.”

  “What?”  My mouth falls open.

  “Give it up.” He enunciates each word carefully. “The neverending search for motherhood at the expense of my feelings and our marriage, not to mention your health. I want my wife back, or I’m leaving.”

  He dares me with his gaze, but I’m frozen. He doesn’t mean it. He can’t possibly. It’s an empty threat meant to manipulate me into giving him his way.

  In all this time, he’s never mentioned leaving. All the wasted trips to fertility doctors, all the pregnancies that ended in loss. The latest as recently as two months ago. Not once did I ever think he would give up on me, on this. On us.

   “What do you mean, leaving?”

  “I mean we should separate. I mean me going to live with my cousin and you live here until either we make this work or we decide we don’t want it to work anymore.  I can’t be here, under the same roof with you, when you’re like this. I won’t do it one more minute.”

  My voice strains when I finally open my mouth to respond to his outrageous ultimatum.

  “What is wrong with you? Asking me to choose between motherhood and you?”

  He puts a hand on the doorknob. My pulse slows, this can’t be real.

  “You’re not a mother, I’m not asking you to choose motherhood. I’m asking you to consider my feelings for once. Me. The one you are fucking married to and promised to love. Be with me and let what happens, happen. Leave it alone.”

  I shake my head, and before I can open my mouth to squeak out a protest, he’s out the door.

  He left, he really left. I slink down the wall fighting the urge to chase his truck down the driveway like a fool. Instead, I let sobs take over, shaking as the cold reality sets in around me like the heavy silence.

  I’m alone.

  ***

  Xander

  I’m not what you think I am. I can almost guarantee that. I’m also not where you’d expect me to be, which is living in Hell ruling the demonic masses and shaking my fist towards the heavens.

  Nope. I’m here, just like you are. This world is my kingdom, and I roam freely. I’ve never actually been to Hell. It’s not my time yet. I’ve roamed from the beginning. I tempted Eve in the garden. Tempted Christ in the wilderness, and taunted and laughed as he hung on the cross.

  I suppose you think because I’m known for my pride, that I’d be offended by the cartoon images of the Devil. The guy with the red onesie poking people in the ass with a pitchfork, I love it. Makes it easy for me when I look someone in the eyes and I can see that they have no idea who I really am. Deception made easy.

  I pace the floor in Cora’s living room, invisible to human eyes. She sits. Sobbing in a heap on the floor. Curled up on new, deep pile carpeting that has just the perfect shade of dark gray to match the light gray walls. Bright, black hair falls into her face, she clutches it with her fists, screaming out a swear word.

  Crossing to her, I sit down beside her and lean towards her ear.

  “He left because he doesn’t love you anymore. There isn’t any other reason,” I whisper.

  She stares at the door, as if he’s standing there, throws out barbs at him in anger, wishing he were there to hear them.

  “He will be back.” She sniffles after a moment. Drags her hand across her face, wipes her runny nose. “He is just mad. Tomorrow, he will be back.”

  I watch her head for her shower, hoping that it might wash away the remnants of her horrible evening.

  A bad night for her is just the beginning for me. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long, long time. Now that it’s here I can finally get this ball rolling. The plan I’ve had since she was a child.

  I stand up, spreading my wings. Time to get this show on the road. Unfortunately, even the devil has rules to follow. A created being just like any other, I exit her humble abode and head for Glory, to get permission to play with her. It’s always been this way, I choose my victim, and then I have to run to the Most High to play “Father may I.”

  It’s bullshit.

  ***

  I’m as old as the foundations of creation. Angels were created before mankind. There’s no way for me to explain to you how long I resided in Heaven, in my station by the very throne of God. Time here isn’t the same as time on Earth, it doesn’t really exist in an eternal place like Heaven. I walked these streets of gold long before I shed blood on them during the war that got me banished.

  The light is blinding when I walk into the throne room. Eyes down, I avoid the warmth of His face.

  “Every knee shall bow.”

  I hear the voice as I’m forced to my knees before His throne. The words echo like music, or a waterfall, in my mind as my knees hit the floor. The light hurts my eyes so I look away. Before the fall, I was able to look into His face and feel the warmth of the love that comes from Him, but now it hurts.

  Yet, here I am.

  “Why have you come to me?”

  “I come for Cora Davies. She is not your servant, yet you protect her.” I speak with my head bowed, not in reverence, but because the light is burning. I’d go on, but what’s the point? It’s not like He doesn’t know everything before I even walk in here.

  “You wish that I remove my protection from Cora?”

  “You protect her, yet she does not worship you. Remove your protection and she will curse you for eternity.”

  “Father of lies, you attempt to deceive me. You want the child that she has not yet born.”

  I attempt to look up, and regret it instantly. I cast my eyes down and wait. I know better than to argue.

  “Very well, you will get your chance, as promised. All that she has is in your power, but you may not harm her physically.”

  I should be satisfied that I got my way, but somehow, I’m not. He always has a plan. I’ve been trying to defeat Him since the beginning, and have failed over and over. My time is coming, however. I can’t give up, this time I may succeed. The Almighty allows me to rise off my knees, and I exit without the pleasantries of ‘thank you’ or ‘goodbye.’

  The child that she has not yet born, true. But it’s not that I want the kid, I want to prevent it from ever existing. This brat will usher in the events that bring my reign
to an end. My kingdom, Earth, ripped from me, and my demons and I cast out. I can’t let that happen. Defense is the best prevention.

  Spreading my wings, I turn and leave the throne room of the Most High.

  ***

  Weeks Later

  Cora

  Sitting amongst what seems like an eternal pile of case files, I stare unseeing at the open case before me. More child abuse. This one no different than any other. Yes, some are unthinkable, but as a Child Protective Services Supervisor, I wish I was dead to it inside like many of the others. I’d love to go numb to the pain I see in their little eyes every day. That numbness is not something that I’ve ever been able to find. I’m the one that doesn’t even take my breaks, how can I? I can’t justify taking a nice, luxurious lunch break when kids are depending on me for their very lives. These little ones out there are hurting, and I’m their only hope. My desk is a mess as proof, littered with papers, coffee rings, an overflowing trash can at my feet. If we were fully staffed, I wouldn’t have this pile on my desk but, of course, we are never fully staffed.

  Seeing all these broken children day in and day out makes my own fertility woes even more acute. It hurts to look into the eyes of a two year old that’s black and blue, knowing that her mom doesn’t want her. The same mom that is pregnant with one more and in a drug rehab program. I’m healthy, stable, and have so much love to give. I’ll never understand why these losers end up with all the kids.

  Here I am dying for my own children. I’ve lost so many now, I don’t even tell anyone anymore. I just take a sick day, or a long weekend, and come back with a new hole in my heart.

  Andrew left not long after that. He found me crying and bleeding in our bathroom before he rushed me to the hospital in a futile attempt to save yet another baby. A week later, when I wanted to find a new fertility doctor, we got into a huge fight, and he told me things that I wish he’d shared with me a long time ago. By the time he expressed his true feelings, it was too late. My loving husband of seven years walked out the door. Each day that goes by, I hope to get that phone call, or maybe return to our house and find him home with an apology and a willing heart, but it hasn’t happened. Any hint that this separation might be coming to an end, but it appears that my hope is in vain.

  I’ve called him, invited him to dinner, he declined. Now, after weeks, I’m starting to become terrified that this is my new reality, while simultaneously getting used to the empty hallways in my house.

  My cell phone rings on my desk. My heart jumps just a little each time it does, hoping it’s Andy.

  It’s not. Just my best friend Marilyn. I pick up, answering with a sigh.

  “Hey girl, you up for lunch?” she chirps.

  “I’d love to, but I was just about to go do a bunch of welfare checks on some kids that are way past due.”

  “Sounds depressing. Just tell me you’re coming to Zumba tonight. I won’t let you flake out on me again.”

  “I don’t know-”

  “Woman, you can’t mope forever. You’ve got to get back into life. Maybe if he sees you don’t need him it will make him think twice, did you ever think of that?”

  Actually, no, I didn’t. “I just don’t know how to move past this. Am I pathetic?” I stand, gathering the pile of folders into my arms, clutching the phone between my ear and shoulder as I grab my purse.

  “Not yet, but soon, I’d say yes. Get on with your life. Come to Zumba, we will have coffee, and it will be the first step to the new you.”

  I laugh lightly.

  “Fine, I’ll come. I doubt it will help.”

  “See you later.”

  She hangs up as I reach the car. Tossing the files into the passenger seat, I realize she’s right. I doubt he’s moping over me.

  So, that evening we jump and jive and sweat in Zumba class. Afterwards, we sit in Starbucks undoing all the hard work with overly sweetened coffee. I sip and listen to her drone on and on about her latest boyfriend woes, all the while my mind is elsewhere.

  So, like the pathetic lonely heart I am, as soon as I get home I dial his number.

  “Hey, Cora.” My name on his rough voice sends a chill deep to my bones and tears to my eyes almost instantly. I haven’t heard his voice in a week.

  “Andy, hey.” I struggle to sound light-hearted, failing miserably.

  “What’s up?” It’s followed with a sigh.

  “Nothing really, just hoping we might talk.”

  “Cora, it’s almost ten. I’m tired. I worked all day and I’m ready to go to sleep, not argue.”

  I sniffle, fighting to steady my voice.

  “I don’t want to argue. Just talk. How can we ever fix this if we don’t talk?” Damn it, my voice is trembling.

  “Are you crying? For God’s sake. No, not now. Not tonight. Why do you pick moments like this for this crap? Goodnight.”

  “Andrew wait, I miss y-”

  He hangs up before I finish. Damn him. Damn him for not listening and being stubborn. For not caring how I feel at all.

  I toss the phone on the bed and kick my shoes off. Strip down to my panties and crawl into the sheets.

  ***

  Devin

  I pace the floor, unseen, by Cora’s bed as she sleeps. My boots fall silent on the thick carpet as I circle the king size, four post bed. A swirl of blankets containing a dark haired beauty on her back. I make my way around the bed, observing her from all angles. Blankets hide her body from me, but not her face. Alabaster skin and slightly parted, rosy lips speak to the darkest parts of me. Her black hair tangled on the pillow, hair I’d love to get a fist full off.

  In the demon world, I’m Lust. Sex personified. And let me tell you, do I love my work.

  I look over at Xander, who watches me with his neon green gaze. The Prince of Darkness in the flesh. To say he’s my leader isn’t enough. He’s more of a God to those of us under his thumb, at least, he likes to think so.

  We chose to fight with him when we were all angels in Heaven, rebelling against The Father, so we were all cast out together. Now we roam this playground call Earth.

  More often than not, over the centuries, we have worked side by side. Sexual desire, or maybe a little bit of sick deviance, is often the gateway to the darker side. It’s an easy foot hold, if you will, when trying to gain control of someone. And I learned not to ask questions, I just do what I’m told. If this is what Xander wants, I know better than to do anything less than obey him.

  Xander doesn’t like to be defied. Not to mention that eternity under a pissed off Lucifer is unpleasant, to say the least.

  He dragged me here tonight, and I’m glad he did. Cora lays sleeping, flowery purple blankets barely covering her luscious body as the demon of fear sits on her chest. He has his long, claw-like fingers sunk into her skull, swirling nightmares in her brain, just as he has been off and on since she was a child. I know of this woman, but this is my first time actually meeting her.

  She tosses her head, muffled whimpers and cries escape her as she fights whatever horror she’s dreaming of.

  I step around the bed, watching, unable to control my heavy breathing as I stare at her, cracking my knuckles.

  “So what’s the story on this one?” I reach out, unable to control my urge to see her body. I pull the covers back, taking in bare breasts.

  “Like you need a reason.” Xander laughs, sitting down in a wing chair. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Hair that’s so black it’s almost blue falls into his face.

  “You got that right. She looks tasty.” I lick my lips, moving closer to the bedside.

  “Her husband walked out on her about two months ago. We’re here to make it permanent. We have to prevent the birth of their child.”

  I shove fear off her. He’s a small, dark creature and he hisses at me, moving into a dark corner. Fear doesn’t bother anymore trying to look pretty, he stays hidden all the time. We were all created by God, the most beautiful creatures ever beheld by human eyes. Tha
t didn’t change for most of us, but there are one or two that fell into the shadows and prefer to remain there.

  I take in the full sight of her body without Fear in the way, taking a deep breath.

  “What child? Are we sure her husband is the father?” Without the blankets in the way, I take in the sight of her in just white, cotton panties. Her bare breasts rising and falling, hips that make my mouth water.

  Reaching up, I touch her. Her skin is hot in my hand. I palm the curve of her heavy breasts. She moves into my touch.

  “Yes, he’s the father-”

  “But he’s not even in the picture, so why are we here?” I slide my hand down her stomach. “Not that fucking her won’t be fun, but you know what I mean.”

  It’s been so long since I personally touched someone. I rarely interact closely like this. This fact alone tells me something serious is going on here.

  “Let me finish and I’ll tell you.”

  I glance up and catch his eye, bowing my head silently.

  “The brat is going to be the leader of the two million man army that crosses the Euphrates and ushers in the Apocalypse and the second coming of Christ talked about in Revelation.”

  I look up.

  “What? Her kid? It’s that close?”

  “Indeed.” He nods, leaning back. “We have to stop it. If we don’t, prophesy is pretty clear. This party will end and we end up in Hell. I’m not ready for that, are you?”

  I shake my head. Believe it or not, we’ve never been to Hell.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then let’s get this show on the road. Break them up, stop this. It may be our only shot.”

  I stare at him.

  “What are you waiting for?” he prompts.

  I toss my long, blonde hair over my shoulder, the gears in my mind already grinding out a plan, how to insert myself into this woman’s life and rip it apart. I lean over the bed and run a hand through her hair.

  “Is she ready? Generating lust can cause problems. I’d hate for her to start lusting after her husband, too.”

  “Are you questioning me?”

  The threat in his voice draws my eye.

  “No. It’s just that sometimes they don’t respond, sometimes it backfires, that’s all.”