Lucifer's Litigator

by TJ Nichols

  “I know. But I need a boyfriend before a husband.” And he’d never been able to keep anything going for more than a couple of years. He really didn’t want to discuss his lack of relationship anymore, so he made a polite excuse and took himself to the men’s room for a few minutes.

  As he washed his hands, another man stepped out of a cubicle and washed his, his face blank but not hard and unflinching the way angels made human faces appear. It wasn’t often that he saw a demon outside of court. Coincidence that a demon was watching him now? He didn’t think so. Plutus would not approve of him talking to the enemy. “Can I help you?”

  “No. But I may be able to help you.”

  William laughed. “I can’t afford that kind of help.”

  He didn’t need or want another contract. No godly being gave out help for free.

  “Maybe this time it isn’t about you and what you want.”

  It was his life and his contract, so it felt personal. He shouldn’t be asking questions, but he couldn’t resist. He needed help. “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly that. Your life isn’t the only one tied up in your contract. You named a person.” The voice was perfectly measured and totally flat.

  “Tom,” William breathed.

  “Tom.” The demon inclined the man’s head. “You didn’t name anything specific either, just him, as though he is yours.”

  “He was once.”

  “Was he? Or is that what you wanted? Did you ever ask what he wanted?”

  The tap was running, and William was not sure how to answer. Tom had been his that summer, and letting him go had been the regret.

  The man shook his head as though he’d read William’s thoughts. “It’s not about you. If you don’t understand that, then not even he can help you.” Then the blankness was gone and the man was scowling at William for breaking one of the rules of the men’s room—don’t make eye contact. William looked away and turned off the tap.

  It wasn’t about him. Somehow it was about Tom. He’d been on the right path, even though it seemed like the wrong one. Did that mean it didn’t matter what he did, that only Tom could break the contract? He should’ve asked Lucifer more questions when he had the chance.

  His life was literally in Tom’s hands and he couldn’t explain that to Tom.

  The door shut, and he was alone. He closed his eyes for a few breaths. This was such a mess. All he’d had to do that day was turn down the offer. Of course it was too good to be true, but he’d been so hungry for success after so many knockbacks. He’d felt the gates shutting, closing him out even though he had the right degree and education. No matter what he did, he always worried that he’d never outgrow his upbringing. It would be the toilet paper forever stuck to his shoe and slowing him down.

  He should’ve been aware that there was more going on than human politics. He’d been carefully groomed, nudged by Plutus until he was ready to sign. He could’ve changed direction at any time, but he didn’t. He surrendered his free will at every turn. He’d been such a fool not to see the way Plutus played him. Tom’s free will was his only lifeline.

  And if Tom had woken up and decided that it was all too hard?

  He swallowed, knowing he’d have to accept Tom’s choice no matter how big and bitter the pill.

  But he didn’t have to graciously accept his fate.

  William snarled and stepped back. For a moment his eyes flashed red. He would not join them in their games. He would not play.

  He wouldn’t go into the office on Monday. He’d be sick.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. Had he ever?

  Carefully he dried his hands on the paper towel. His mother would be waiting, and they had to finish their nice lunch, because it might be the last one they had.

  He’d be smart and put his affairs in order, but then he was going to fight or at least resist for as long as he could to give Tom as much time as possible.

  The question on his lips that he could never ask? What did Tom want?

  TOM HAD tried to call several times, but each time the phone was engaged. Finally it rang and was answered by a woman. “Er… um… is Will there?”

  Or had he memorized the wrong number? He hoped not, as he had no idea how to contact Will otherwise. Maybe this was where they ended, not with a goodbye or a proper breakup, but with missed communication again.

  He wasn’t ready for it to be over, but if it was, he wanted to do it properly and not have regret and doubt linger because he should’ve done more.

  “He’s just stepped away from the table.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Can you let him know Tom called?” Will had said he was single. If he’d been lying…. There was nothing worse than being the secret. He’d learned that one the hard way with a married officer who liked to have deployment relationships that his wife never learned about. He’d seen far too much infidelity in the Army.

  “Tom Langford?”

  This woman knew him. Who was she? “Yes,” he said cautiously.

  “It’s Donna McLeod.”

  Tom sighed. Will’s mother. His brain stopped trying to scramble a response. “Hi. How are you?”

  He hadn’t spoken to her in twenty-five years. How had she remembered him, unless Will had told her about the reunion? His cheeks heated. While he’d hidden what was going from his family, Will’s mum had always been relaxed about her son dating a boy. His parents liked it when he had a girlfriend while at ADFA. He’d tried to convince himself Will was a phase, and he’d almost been successful until another man turned his head. It had taken years of sneakily dating men while openly dating women before he realized he was bi. But he still hadn’t told his family.

  “I’m well. You’re back home? Or is this a stop before you go somewhere dangerous?”

  The reunion had been dangerous. He was still waiting for the cops to knock on his door and ask him a few pertinent questions about what had gone on, but no one had called. It was as though the whole thing had been forgotten, but he remembered too well the way Will had felt against him, the way his life had been in his hands, his pulse jumping too close to the jagged glass.

  His heart gave a lurch, but he ignored the edge of panic. Will was alive, for the moment. And his mother had no idea what was going on.

  He forced a smile and tried to sound happy for her sake. “Home to stay.”

  “Ah, here he is. I’ll hand you over.”

  Before Tom could say another word, Will was on the phone. There were a few muted words from Donna, but Tom couldn’t make them out.

  “Sorry, I hope Mum didn’t interrogate you.”

  He remembered the way she had grilled him when they were clearly no longer doing any study. It was horrible. The only thing worse than getting the safe-sex lecture from your own parents was getting it from someone else’s. His parents had never spoken about what to do with other men, but Will’s mother had, and Tom had wanted to die of shame.

  “She was fine. I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

  “My phone hasn’t rung.”

  Tom didn’t say anything. Someone, or something, was running interference.

  Will continued. “That’s to be expected. I’m going to give you my address. Memorize it.”

  Will’s address was a fancy apartment block on the river, the kind of place that had its own security and prices started at something close to extortion and only went up. Will’s apartment was on the top floor. Tom didn’t even want to know how much the apartment had cost. “That’s swanky.”

  “Yeah. Come around tonight? If you want?” And for just a moment, Will sounded like a nervous teen who wasn’t quite sure of himself.

  “I want.” He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Will until he was in front of him. But was that what he actually felt, or was that the stupid contract clause getting in the way? “But I also want some answers.”

  He knew Will could only tell him so much, but maybe there was a workaround.


  “I’ll give you what I can.” The line filled with static. “Eight?”

  “Eight.” Then the line went dead.

  That was some high-level interference. Tom tapped his phone in his hand, a shudder raced through him, and he glanced up at the ceiling. He never really believed in a higher power, and this kind of bullshit didn’t make him want to.

  If he got on his knees and prayed, he was sure a god would offer him a miracle and set Will free, but the cost would be his soul. He was smarter than that… but not smart enough to listen to the warning in his gut that was telling him to stay home.

  Chapter 7

  THE DRIVE to the city was average. There were no accidents or sudden, suspicious events, but it was too much like driving through the hostile terrain of Helmand Province. Was that a shepherd or a man with a rocket launcher? A spot clear of rocks in the road or signs of an IED? This time Tom was watching for shadows, for blank expressions, for anything odd. His knuckles were white, and by the time he parked, the tension was coiled tightly around him.

  He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

  Maybe he was overreacting. He knew guys who did. They were fine until they weren’t. Stress got to them like a worm in an apple.

  Fuck this.

  This was just another piece of bullshit to dig through, and he’d drag Will out with him. But he wasn’t up against a human army. How did he fight an enemy he’d only just learned existed?

  Tom got out of the car and walked up to the door. A man with the dead expression of the possessed watched. Was the actual human still inside, terrified and desperate to be let out? Or would the human not remember a thing? Cold traced up Tom’s spine, but he kept his revulsion hidden and his gaze level.

  “I’m here to see Will McLeod. Top floor.” There was no way he was getting past the man to press the elevator buttons himself.

  “I know why you are here.”

  Tom considered the man for a moment. “I’m allowed to date.”

  It wasn’t a date. It was a strategy meeting. They weren’t getting back together… but would it be a horrible thing if they did? He couldn’t say no, and that concerned him. He didn’t want a damned boyfriend. Will must have known what he was doing when he signed his contract. By his own admission, he’d ruined plenty of people.

  And Tom had been part of an occupying army. He couldn’t erase that with a few choice phrases.

  “You cannot lie to us,” the doorman said.

  Tom shrugged. It had totally been worth a shot. “You going to get out of that body, angel, and let the man press the button?” He grinned and curled his fingers, expecting a fight.

  The man stared at him, unblinking. “The elevator is broken. Take the stairs.”

  The elevator didn’t look broken. There was no Out of Order sign and a place like this would call out maintenance pretty fast. A place like this would also have cleaners. “I can take the service elevator.”

  “Stairs.” The possessed man pointed at the door marked Stairs. “Or leave and try your luck another time.”

  If he left, Will would think he wasn’t coming, and it was already eight. He couldn’t argue and waste time with this bag of dicks, so he walked toward the stairs. A hiss of displeasure followed, but Tom didn’t turn around.

  He pulled open the heavy door and started up the stairs. The lights flickered. Yeah, he was expecting them to go out. He’d seen too many horror movies and he knew how this went. He was playing the role of the dumb blond, and before the end, both he and Will would end up in Hell and have to fight their way out. If this was a movie, they’d get free, but life wasn’t like the movies. There was no second take if things went wrong. The dead didn’t rise to reshoot.

  His footsteps were hollow on the concrete steps. The lights didn’t go out, but they flickered and flared. The shadows danced, but if he looked a little closer, the shadows weren’t moving according to the light. They were oozing, following and creeping closer.

  He took the stairs two at a time and used the railing to propel himself up. He was fit, but running up steps was different from running around mostly flat suburban Perth. Shadows grabbed at his heels, slowing him, but he bit back the yelp and kept moving, sure that if he stopped to catch his breath, he’d be consumed.

  They knew he was afraid. But he knew how to push through that fear. Even when hands tugged at the hem of his jeans, he didn’t look back. He was panting hard, and sweat trickled down his back. So much for showering and looking nice before he came over.

  As he stepped onto the last set of stairs, the shadows disappeared beneath a blanket of black ink. No shadow was that thick and dense. It moved like oil, splashing on his shoes and sucking him down. Panic surged.

  His knuckles whitened as he gripped the rail to hold on when he lost his balance, sure that if he fell, he’d never get back up. The shadows continued to pull and drag him, and he felt himself sinking.

  “I’m standing on concrete stairs.” He pushed forward onto the next step and fought for every pace. All he had to do was….

  Quit.

  He wasn’t wearing a 40kg pack, roasting in the desert. This was a cakewalk.

  If he didn’t finish, Will would die or be lost. Tom still wasn’t ready to say he believed. This was some bullshit he didn’t understand, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to fight.

  He battled his way up the last few stairs, only to find that the door was blocked by a figure. If it was the guard again, he was going to get a punch in the dick, followed by a knee to the face as he folded over.

  The figure didn’t move, but horns grew from its head.

  “Pretty sure the devil has better things to do than stop me from getting to my date.” And if the devil didn’t, why the hell not? If Tom were a supernatural being, he wouldn’t be using his powers to fuck with a couple of humans.

  “The devil?” The shadow laughed. “He’d probably help you.”

  The horns melted back into its head, and wings grew from its back and spread over the walls until Tom was almost surrounded. “William McLeod belongs to us.”

  “Who are you?” And why would the devil help him?

  The wings shrank as they were absorbed back into the body-shaped shadow. “We work for the gods.” The voice became laced with a hundred other voices. They echoed around the stairwell and rang in his ears like the aftereffect of a grenade blast.

  “Good for you. I’m going to have dinner with my friend.” He stepped forward.

  The creature put out a hand, and Tom stopped with an inch to spare. Letting this being touch him would be bad. The hairs on his arms drew tight. His body erupted in gooseflesh as the temperature dropped.

  But nothing else happened.

  “You can’t kill me.”

  “Accidents can happen.” Then the creature was gone, and the stairwell again became a place of dull concrete and fluorescent lights.

  His heart bashed against his ribs, and his shirt was stuck to his skin. Had he imagined the shadows?

  This time he let himself look back, but there was nothing to see.

  “WHAT HAPPENED to you?” Tom was twenty minutes late. William thought he’d changed his mind. He’d been on the verge of texting him, though he suspected the message would never reach Tom even if he did.

  “Elevator’s out, and there’s demons or something in your stairwell,” Tom huffed.

  “Did they try to stop you?”

  “Yeah.” Tom glanced over his shoulder.

  William stepped back and let him into the apartment—not that a simple door would stop the shadows. They could go everywhere and slide through the tiniest gap to mess up lives. “They weren’t demons.”

  Tom lifted an eyebrow. “Horns, wings, doing evil. That’s what you’re mixed up in?”

  “There are no actual demons or angels. That’s just what people call them. They’re all the same.” His tongue was hot, and the words burned.

  “What?”

  William took off his glasses
and placed them on the coffee table where he had his contract and notes spread out. He wasn’t supposed to show anyone, but he wasn’t showing Tom, he’d just accidentally left it out with a few carefully worded sticky notes at relevant places. It was a weak excuse that wouldn’t hold up if he was questioned.

  “Who do you think created religion?”

  “Humans, because they needed a way to explain things. Now we have science instead of superstition.”

  William bit his lip. He wanted to tell Tom that all the gods still existed, fighting it out for worshippers and souls to give them power. While Yahweh played a long game, he’d gotten cocky and was about to be overturned if the rumors he’d heard were true. His ex-wife, Asherah, was still pissed at him for casting her aside. But it would be foolish to discount any of the old gods. Thor was making a strong comeback, though his medium was very untraditional, and Plutus was powerful simply because so many humans were greedy.

  Things were going to get messy, and humans had forgotten what it was like to have gods and goddesses running around, making trouble. Humans had created the go-betweens last time—lawyers who would bridge the gap.

  But most humans no longer remembered.

  William didn’t know where to start or how to explain it all to Tom. Words of warning whispered in his ear. It wasn’t about him, though he’d found nothing in his contract to suggest that it wasn’t about him, so he studied Tom for a moment. “Do you really want to know? I mean, not a casual interest, because we… we are friends.” Maybe they weren’t even that, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it. “But really want to? Because, if I tell you, they will know.”

  “And then what?”

  “My tongue will split, because I’ll have broken my NDA.” The heat in his mouth was a warning that he was getting too close to revealing too much. “People outside the company aren’t supposed to know what really goes on.”

  And once they were inside and knew the truth, it was too late.

  Tom stared at him and raked his fingers through his hair. When he spoke, his words were carefully considered. “I think I’ve seen too much to not want to know. I can’t forget—”