Page 9 of Midnight with the Devil

“Thank you.” Her mother hugged the startled physician and then returned to her husband’s bedside.

“I’ll leave you all to have some time with him, but make sure he has plenty of rest.”

Diana pulled up a chair by her father’s hospital bed and grasped one of his hands between hers, squeezing it gently.

She stayed at the hospital for two more hours, her mind reeling as her father got up on shaky legs for the first time in weeks. She didn’t understand how this was the same man from the day before—the man who had lain on the bed, so close to death that it hung around him like a shroud. Could her strange dream have been real? Was she actually considering that she’d made an actual honest-to-God deal with the devil? She turned on her laptop and googled “deals with the devil” first thing after she arrived home. As the search history revealed information, she held her breath and read on.

She found several articles about the mythology behind making a deal with the devil. There were even descriptions of rituals for summoning a demon at a crossroads to make the bargain. Seth perched on the edge of her desk, his face alert on the front door, his tail flicking back and forth.

“It’s Sunday. No mail today,” she reminded the tabby and stroked a hand down his spine. He arched, encouraging her to scratch his lower back right above his tail. Suddenly the mail slot on her door opened, and a letter dropped onto the floor.

Diana stared at the letter. She hadn’t heard anyone come up the stairs. She always heard steps on the stairs.

Seth’s ears flattened, and he let out an eerie meow. He only made that noise when she vacuumed too close to him under the bed.

Unease prickled along her skin like thousands of invisible spiders, making her shudder. She set her laptop aside and approached the letter cautiously. It was made of expensive crisp white card stock and bound with a red satin ribbon. She picked it up off the carpet and turned it over. There was no return address, only her name,Diana Kingston, scrawled on top in flowing cursive.

Diana tugged on the ribbon until the bow fell apart, and then she unfolded the letter to read it.

Ms. Kingston,

You have recently completed a transaction with His Majesty, the king of hell. You are hereby to give yourself over to his desires for three months in exchange for your father’s life. You will be ready each Friday night at half past eleven. A black sedan will pick you up. He will bring you to a place where you will fulfill your obligations. If at any point you wish to rescind this contract by invoking the free will clause specified in the attached contract article 2 section 1, then you must face the immediate death of your father.

Any questions regarding your contract with Lucien Star, a.k.a. Lucifer Morningstar, a.k.a. the devil, can be written and directed to Mr. Star’s counsel, Lionel Barnaby, Esq.

Sincerely,

Mr. Barnaby

Diana read the letter over several times, unsure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. “I really made a deal with the devil?”

Something brushed against her leg and she jumped, her heart jolting into her throat as she almost screamed. Seth hissed and bounded away from her, upset that he had scared her enough that she jumped.

“Jesus, Seth.” She stared at the vanishing tail of her cat as he whipped around the corner and into her bedroom.

She glanced back down at the letter and then turned the page to see a few more pages of intense-looking legal terms. “Terms and conditions.” She scanned the frighteningly long list that made very little sense to her. But she searched for the clause about free will.

“In accordance with the ruling laws of heaven and hell, a human shallalwayshave free will, even during transactions with the devil. Any sale of the soul, permanently or temporarily, to the devil to receive benefits is valid and binding unless the mortal exclaims, ‘I invoke my right of free will.’ At such point the transaction is broken, and the benefit conferred upon the mortal will be undone or taken away.”

Diana stared at the contract and read the signature lines at the bottom where her name had been written in her own hand. She brushed her fingertips over the signature to feel the ink, and the memory of kissing the devil flooded back. The heat, the sensual dominance, the feel of wind whipping around her all swept through her like a roaring wave. Gasping, she struggled for air. She’d sealed her deal with a kiss. In some of the crossroads mythology articles she’d read, that was how bargains were made.

It is real.

She set the contract and the letter down on her desk, returned to her couch, and picked up her laptop once more. She had no idea what she was looking for. Answers, maybe? But even the internet was no help. She searched for books about the devil and the occult, and a psychic bookshop popped up in the search results. She clicked on the address and saw that it was only two miles away and was open until ten.

Diana cast a look at Seth. He lay on his back in the middle of the floor, his tail twitching.

“Should I go?” she asked. Seth’s tail stilled. “Is that a yes?” she confirmed, half smiling as Seth rolled onto his side and looked up at her.

“Fine. I’ll go.” She closed her laptop and fetched her purse. She exited the apartment and typed the bookstore’s address into her phone. By the time she reached the bookstore, the sun hung heavy in the sky. Diana parked her car and faced the shop.

A small sign dangled off the metal pole above the door. Its painted black lettering stood out against the pale gray background:The Occultist’s Apothecary. The shop was surrounded by a coffee shop on one side and a consignment clothing store on the other side. Only the coffee shop was open, but it had few customers.

Diana adjusted her purse on her shoulder and headed toward the bookstore. A small bell tinkled above her head as she entered. The musty smell of old books, candles, incense, and spices filled the air like an invisible cloud.

There was part of the shop that had a counter with bottles and other ingredients. A beautiful dark-skinned woman stood behind the counter, sorting out receipts. She flicked her gaze up and then back to her task.

“Excuse me,” Diana said uncertainly. “I’m looking for some books.”

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