The Devil and Dan Cooley Read online

  She stood and walked him to the door, and gave him a quick hug. "Don't forget to call your sister," she said as he headed out the door.

  "Why? What's going on?"

  "Amy's birthday party, remember? Your niece is going to be how old?"

  "Thirty-seven?"

  "I said your niece, not your mother, dear."

  Dan let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth and panted. "Duuuuh... three?"

  "Very good. Now don't forget, we'll be expecting you."

  Chapter 9

  Honorial muttered, "Either there's something wrong with the equipment or we have a problem."

  Galas said, "The equipment checks out. Our body tracers show over two hundred thousand Hellraised. If you want an exact count, I can get it, but it won't hold long. The numbers seem to be increasing."

  "They should be decreasing. Scan for total population," Honorial said

  Galas scanned, then sighed. "Just over five million. That's the number our database says we ought to find."

  "That's how many there were when the Hellraised got there."

  "That's how many there are now, too. What's the fuss?"

  "Scan for human population."

  Galas kept quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Oh, dear. That's interesting."

  "What?"

  "We seem to have misplaced about two hundred thousand people."

  Honorial snapped his badge of rank, his golden quill, into little pieces and flung them to the floor. "God damn them!" he snarled.

  "That would be redundant." Galas smiled, pleased with his little joke.

  "Don't you get it? Lucifer's hordes have found a way to cheat on their numbers. The legitimate population of North Carolina is falling, but somehow the Hellraised have managed to fill in those slots one-for-one without us catching on. They're only supposed to make up one percent of the population. They're way over their allotted numbers."

  Galas leaned back in his chair and locked his long fingers behind his head. "Then, Honorial, for all intents and purposes, the deal ought to be off. Right? They flagrantly broke their part of the deal. We caught them. When we tell Our Munificent Creator, he'll make the misbegotten fiends march themselves straight back to Hell. And that will be the end of the experiment."

  Honorial nodded. "Maybe."

  "Don't be dramatic. The Holy of Holies made his point. You can't tell me you think he'll let the experiment continue when he finds out the legions of the damned have been... cheating. "

  In fact, Honorial could have told Galas just that. He didn't intend to—for one thing, Galas wouldn't have believed him. For another thing, he simply didn't like Galas very much. But Honorial suspected that, while God might take action to return the excess Hellraised to the nether regions, he didn't think for a moment that the Heavenly One would cancel his joke entirely. He'd been having too much fun with it.

  Honorial said, "Give me a printout of this, would you? I'll be talking to God later today—I'd like to be able to show him these numbers." He studied the lesser angel for a moment. "And don't tell anyone else what we've found out here. Please."

  "Since you ask me, I won't," Galas said, rolling his eyes.

  Chapter 10

  Dan did remember to call Janna to tell her he would bring Puck by. He had a bit of trouble relocating the devil, though—Puck had said he'd be in the neighborhood of the station if Dan needed him, but Dan's first search didn't turn him up. The sun was setting when Dan spotted Puck and the imp huddled behind the Dumpster in the radio station parking lot. He pulled up near the two Hellraised and watched as they walked past his headlights. The devil was limping.

  Dan rolled down the window. "What happened to you?"

  Puck shrugged. "Those guys found us again. We camped out under a fire escape in the alley across the street. Bad idea. Fetch slipped away through a sewer grate, but I got caught trying to hop the fence."

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'll be all right. We heal fast. And it wasn't all one-sided. The fellow with the Louisville slugger sprained his wrist when he broke his bat on my leg."

  Dan could understand his fellow humans' revulsion to the filthy, hideous devil. He could even understand their hatred—the Hellraised were, after all, destroying a beautiful state. But he couldn't understand the sort of unquestioning wickedness that permitted human beings to attack creatures they knew were utterly defenseless, no matter how loathsome or vile or evil those creatures might be. Dan only saw violence as a solution in cases of self-defense.

  "A girlfriend of mine named Janna offered to help out with the makeover," he said. "She's an actress—did a few pretty decent movies. Sometimes she models. She can teach you how to act in human company—just superficial things, probably, but anything that will make you more acceptable will also lessen the hostility directed toward you. If you aren't so obviously different, maybe people with baseball bats won't keep chasing you around."

  "I'm all in favor of that," Puck said, rubbing his leg.

  Puck squeaked.

  "Good. Then you and Fetch get in."

  Puck limped to the car, followed closely by Fetch.

  Dan thought while he drove. "Having you living on the street until we find you a place isn't going to work."

  "It isn't?"

  "No." Dan rolled his window down in spite of the continuing drizzle. "It isn't. For one thing, we can't let a sponsor near you until you smell better."

  "I smell bad? I thought the rain gave me a rather fresh scent."

  "It does," Dan said. "You smell like fresh shit."

  "That's bad?"

  Dan glanced over at him to see if the devil was joking. He didn't appear to be. "I think you've been in Hell too long, pal. That's bad."

  "Oh."

  "So first thing we get to Janna's, you get a bath."

  "I thought maybe I could get something to eat."

  "That comes afterward. I don't think either of us could stand to eat with you smelling that way. And we'll have to wash your clothes or burn them and let you borrow some of mine. I have a gym bag with some clothes in it in the trunk. I'll take those in and let you wear my gym shorts and a T-shirt when you get out of the bath."

  "You don't think your girlfriend will mind me using her bath?"

  Dan thought she'd insist, but he didn't say that. "I don't think she'll mind."

  A Mercedes idled at the security booth as he pulled up behind it. The guard waved it through, then motioned to the Mustang.

  "Your girlfriend lives in a prison?" Puck said.

  "It's a gated apartment complex. You have to stop here before going inside." He looked at the guard. "Hi, Wilma."

  "Evening, Mr. Cooley. Ms. English told me to expect you. Go right in."

  "Thanks."

  "Your lady rich?" Puck asked as Dan drove inside.

  "Pretty successful."

  "And she's dating you?" Puck ran a finger along the dashboard's cracked vinyl and glanced at Dan appraisingly. "You must be hung like a whale."

  "Janna appreciates me for my wit and personality."

  "Easily satisfied, huh?"

  Dan glared at the devil, who retreated.

  "Hey, just kidding. Okay?"

  Dan found a parking space beside Janna's Corvette. He took out the gym bag and handed it to Puck, then led the way to the elevator, where he noticed that he and the devil were alone. "Where's Fetch?"

  "I left it in the car."

  "Why?"

  "Don't worry. I left the window down a crack."

  "I don't think it's a good idea to leave your imp behind."

  "Just between you and me, I don't think it's a good idea to bring it along. Besides, this is the first time it's had someplace safe to sleep in a long time. It spends the nights keeping watch for us."

  Dan gave him a distrustful look, but decided against going back to get the imp. Small as it was, he couldn't really see what harm it could do. They got in the elevator, and Dan hit the button for Janna's floor. When it came to a stop and the doors rolled open, they
headed down the hallway.

  Puck's feet made squishing noises as he walked. Odd, especially once Dan noticed that he wasn't wearing shoes.

  "Are we going to eat soon?" Puck asked.

  Dan couldn't help grinning as the devil's stomach rumbled. It made a sound like, "Mrooooaaaarrw."

  "Soon. Now listen, these are the rules: No foul language, and no lewd gestures or comments. In short, behave yourself."

  They stopped in front of the apartment and Puck grinned at him. "So peeing in the fondue is out of the question?"

  "You know, there might just be hope for you yet."

  The devil looked hurt. "Hey, I'm no hick. I'm sophisticated." He blew his nose in his hand and wiped it on the wall beside Janna's door frame.

  Dan winced, then rang the bell. "Charming."

  "Anything else?" Puck grinned at him.

  "I don't think so," Dan said. "Let's quit while we're not so far behind."

  Locks rattled and the door opened.

  Janna smiled out at him—the smile was worth a million dollars, easy, and he couldn't figure out why she wasn't in New York or California raking in the dough. She wore sneakers and jeans and one of his oxford shirts with the sleeves rolled up; she had her cornsilk-gold hair pulled back in a ponytail that emphasized her blue eyes. Dan could see the pale red glow of lipstick still staining her lips, but her face was clean-scrubbed. The thing he liked the most about her was that she wasn't always "on," always projecting. Sometimes she seemed a little actressy to him, but most of the time she was just a nice, intelligent woman with a pretty good sense of humor and a fair amount of ambition. He wasn't entirely sure what she saw in him, but he was grateful for whatever it was.

  Janna grinned as she noticed the expression on his face. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. "Hi," she said. The scent of Georgio Red brushed against him for an instant, reminding him of things more pleasant and wonderful than the devil stench that was inescapable even on the open-air breezeway.

  "Hi, yourself."

  She turned to the devil then. "So you're Puck." She held out her hand, straightforward, and smiled with what Dan recognized as her professional face.

  After an instant's hesitation, the devil held out his own hand. "I'm Puck."

  "And I'm Janna." The faintest hint of a pained expression flashed through her eyes, then vanished. "And we have some work to do."

  Dan nudged Puck forward and followed him. As they stepped through the door, Janna's dog started yapping.

  Puck stared down at him. The dog took no notice of the devil, though. It came straight at Dan, yipping and snarling, and attached itself to his ankle.

  "Bits, dammit, down!" Janna said.

  "Vicious rat you have there," the devil told her.

  She picked up the teacup Chihuahua and thumped it on the top of the head. "Yeah," she agreed. "His name is Sir Reginald Bits of Gold—he's a champion, though you would never guess by looking at him. My mother breeds them—she gave him to me for my birthday a couple of years ago."

  "Why?" Puck asked.

  "I've asked myself the same question more than once." Janna carried the dog into the kitchen, closed the door, and came back out, brushing her hands on her jeans.

  "I told Puck he would have to have a bath before supper," Dan said.

  "I think a shower would probably work better to start with." Janna eyed the devil. "I don't want rings around the tub that I have to rub off with sandpaper. So why don't you show him into the bathroom and acquaint him with the plumbing, and I'll finish up with supper."

  Dan made sure that Puck understood how the plumbing worked and introduced him to soap and shampoo. The devil turned the hot water all the way on and skipped the cold entirely. Dan was going to say something, then decided against it. Puck was probably getting the equivalent of a cold shower as it was.

  Once he was sure the devil wasn't going to do something stupid, he laid out the gym clothes and went out to keep Janna company. He had no intention of sticking around to watch Puck undress.

  She was waiting in the living room when he came out. "He's showering?"

  "He was getting ready to get in when I left."

  Janna said, "Everything is in the oven. We have about half an hour before I have to do anything with it. Why don't we go out on the balcony?"

  "The weather stinks."

  "But the air doesn't."

  Dan nodded. Now that she mentioned it, the stench of unwashed devil still clogged the room. He imagined it had to be worse for Janna—she hadn't spent time in a control booth with Puck. Her sense of smell wouldn't be deadened.

  He noticed that she left the sliding door open when they stepped outside. "Maybe it won't be so bad when we go back in," he said.

  "I didn't want to be rude. I don't know what sort of conditions he's been living in, or how hard things might have been for him. But another minute of that and I would have lost my lunch."

  "The whole lettuce leaf?"

  Janna grinned. "And the slice of lemon. What are you going to do with him, Dan?"

  "I'm going to take him home, let him and his imp sleep on my couch, and hope that regular meals, regular baths, and a little kindness start making a difference in both of them."

  "Can't the station find them a place to stay?"

  "No. Financially, WKTU is sliding downhill fast. Maybe a sponsor will offer something once this starts taking off. Meanwhile, I'm going to need to put him up. This whole project won't work if he has to live out on the street."

  Janna leaned against the wall and watched the rain, which had finally slackened to a drizzle. Dan watched Janna. Pretty, funny, intelligent, ambitious—not too many more things a man could ask for in a woman. He liked holding her—liked the way she smelled and the way she felt. Her unending worries about her appearance seemed typical of other models and actresses he'd known, but she lacked the narcissism that made so many of them unappealing. She was fun to be with.

  He prodded at his feelings the way he'd probed the spaces in his mouth when he'd lost teeth as a kid. He felt like he was sliding his tongue into one of those gaps, expecting to find something and finding an emptiness instead. His feelings seemed to consist entirely of his enjoyment of her companionship and his hope that he wouldn't do something to hurt her. And that occasional pang of loss when he looked at her and saw Francie. Maybe he needed to give the relationship more of a chance. Maybe he needed to push for it. He tried to imagine her in goalie pads and a face mask, making a stick save in the driveway, but somehow he couldn't. He wondered if she was standing there thinking about him—if she wondered when he was going to start getting serious.

  "I think I can get us paper and television coverage for this makeover," she said.

  Oh. Evidently she wasn't thinking about the relationship. He said, "That would be useful."

  "Yes." She stood silently for a long time. "Do you think it will work? Do you think your devil in there is actually redeemable?"

  He considered that. "I don't know. I really don't. But I have to take the chance that he is. The state is dying, and this is the only thing that I can think of that I can do that might save it."

  Chapter 11

  God pulled on a tennis shoe, seeming not to listen as Honorial went through the details of Hellish cheating he'd uncovered. "As humans have been leaving the state, the Hellraised Fallen and the devils who were sufficiently high ranking to be able to change their appearances and who were already in the state have been assuming their identities. This has had the effect of fooling our data collection program into thinking the population steady, and allowing Lucifer to send in new Hellraised. The number of Hellraised operating in North Carolina is now far above one percent of the state's total human population."

  When the Chief of Data Processing finished his report, God said, "We had to expect that. They're the damned, after all. Expecting them to play by the rules would be expecting the impossible."

  "Well, yes..." Honorial wasn't hearing the outrage he'd hoped for. "That
's what they are... but they should have to be held accountable for their actions. Shouldn't they?"

  God glanced up at him with a curious expression on his face, one that gave Honorial shivers. "They're condemned to Hell, Honorial. They're damned. If they don't repent, they're damned for eternity. Just what sort of further punishment did you have in mind? How much more accountable can I make them?"

  "So are you going to banish them all back to Hell?"

  "That's your recommendation?" God pulled on the other tennis shoe.

  Honorial nodded. "Yes, Glorious Almighty."

  "I see." God was still giving him that intense look. "Even though we're still getting repenters from among the Hellraised as well as human souls that previously were heading toward damnation, you feel that this infraction is serious enough to warrant an end to the experiment."

  "Well... yes. Our percentage of North Carolinian human repenters is falling."

  "Might that be due to the overall decrease in the human population in the state?"

  Honorial winced. He hadn't considered that possibility. "It might."

  "Until this experiment started, how many years had it been since we had a repenting fallen angel?"

  "I... don't believe we've ever had one."

  "You're mistaken. We had one. One, and that was six thousand four hundred thirty-two years ago. Earth time. Somewhat before your stint as recording angel began. How many have we had since the experiment started?"

  "Twelve."

  "Twelve. In eight months. And a couple who are in the middle, trying to work things out. Including, lest you forget, Hell's previous second-in-command. And what about the damnedsouls in all their variety?"

  "Repenters?"

  God nodded.

  "More than a million in the last eight months."