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Charlie’s dress was too tight. Specifically, her collar, cuffs and waistband were too tight. She wasn’t exactly plump but the way this thing dug into her flesh indicated that she must have ballooned sometime between the plain coffee her mother had allowed her for breakfast and this evening.

“Don’t fidget, Petal.” The click of her father’s cane against the limousine floor was enough to drop her hands into her lap. “You’ll spoil your pretty outfit.”

She wanted to protest that it was, in fact, the ugliest damn dress she had ever seen but that would hurt his feelings. Plus he was already back to looking out the window at the passing cityscape. Demons hurried along, clutching weapons, food or both. The nervous tension in the air permeated even past their reinforced windows.

“Remember now, big smiles for the populace. We can’t have everyone thinking tonight is all doom and gloom.”

“Dad, it’s the Cleanse. That’s doom and gloom by default.”

“Only if you look at it that way. Flip the event on its head and it’s a refreshing jump to the economy. All those jobs suddenly available, apartments to rent, more food to go around.”

“Yeah, because the demons who needed them before are dead!”

“Yup.”

The pause that followed was weightier than iridium.

“Dad …” Charlie nibbled her lower lip. “Don’t you sometimes think … there might be a different way of coping with overpopulation? Like … a better way?”

“The Exterminators have worked fine for centuries, Petal. Why mess with what works?”

“Because … well, because we’re receiving more sinners these days than we used to so there are way more souls who are culled each year than there were when we weren’t so over-capacity.” Unbidden, her eyes travelled to the car’s ceiling, as if she could see right through it and up to the mortal world. “I don’t know what’s going on in the mortal realm but … we never used to have so many new souls manifesting into demons in Hell every year.”

“If they didn’t want to end up in Hell then they should have led better lives. Downfall of faithfulness and good karma and yadda-yadda-yadda.” Lucifer spiralled a hand at the wrist. “They have so many names for it.”

“Couldn’t we tell them this is where they’ll end up? Try to stem the flow at the source?”

He finally looked at her. “You’ve chosen a very strange time to have this conversation, Petal.”

She hunched. “I guess it’s on my mind because of where we’re headed.”

“Mmm, I suppose so.” His long fingers rippled atop the head of his cane. “Humans know what Hell is, Charlie. They’ve been warning each other about it for centuries. It’s a cross-culture, cross-country, cross-faith concept. If mortals are sinning and ending up here more often, it’s not because they weren’t warned. Heck, you should see some of the depictions of Hell they put in their pop culture!” He chuckled, showing teeth. “I particularly like the one where I was played by both Al Pacino and Keanu Reeves, though your mother was rather taken with Liz Hurley; but then she did always have an eye for a shapely bosom –”

“Dad!” Charlie’s face blushed so red that her cheeks glowed.

He laughed and slapped his knee. “Baiting you is so fun sometimes. But no, sinners know the risks and they still choose to sin regardless. It’s their own fault that they end up here. The Cleanse is just part of the punishment of being consigned to Hell.”

Charlie sank into her uncomfortable lacy collar. “It still doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“You young demons and your high ideals.” Lucifer shook his head indulgently and patted the top of her head.

She flapped at him. “I’m two-hundred years old!”

“I know, Petal, but it feels like just the blink of an eye since I was changing your diapers. Oh, you were such an adorable baby. All teeth and horns until you were a toddler – and you laughed until you burst into flames whenever I tickled your little fat tummy.” As if to emphasise, he leaned over and mimicked tickling her. She pulled away, hands crossing defensively over her midriff.

The window connecting them to the front seat buzzed down. “We’re almost there, sir,” growled the driver, not because he was angry but because it’s generally hard to do anything but growl when you’re a wolf demon with scar tissue where your throat should be.

“Thank you, Úlfamaður.” Her father pulled down a mirror set into the ceiling and adjusted his hat. He bared his teeth in a customary smile, rubbing at one with a pristine white glove until it squeaked. “Best faces on now, Charlie. Chin up! Chest out! Buttocks tight! Let’s have no more of this silly talk in front of the other overlords, shall we? And especially don’t mention it to your mother. You know how she feels about Extermination Day. Night. Day-and-Night? We really need to settle on an easy nomenclature one of these years.”

Charlie was not entirely sure what her mother’s connection was to the Exterminators but Lilith had long ago decided she was fine with the annual Cleanse and when a Queen of Hell decided something, it stayed decided if it knew what was good for it. The yearly lock-in at one of her parents’ hotels was part survival, part excuse for a party and every overlord in Hell was usually there. Getting an invite was a status symbol and turning one down was unthinkable. It was the crowning jewel in the Magnes’ social calendar. Lilith spent months preparing for it, then weeks recovering from the effort of not murdering every demon she didn’t like but whom social propriety had forced her to invite anyway.

“Charlie?”

Charlie sighed. “Yes, Dad.”

They pulled up smoothly in front of the hotel. A red carpet spilled from the doors to the curb like a river of fresh blood. Her father shot her a smile that could only be described as ‘debonair’ and stepped out when a servant opened his door. Immediately, the entire scene lit up with camera flashes. After all, tomorrow’s society sections would run editorials about the overlord party and photos of Lucifer himself were a hot ticket to extra sales. Demons who got the best snaps could earn money or even a place in a protective bunker with their superiors during next year’s Cleanse.

Lucifer turned and offered Charlie his hand to help her out of the car. She pasted on her most practised smile, accepted his help and eased herself across the backseat. She moved carefully, keeping her knees glued together to ensure one of the photos splashed across social media tomorrow was not of her accidentally showing her underwear.

Unfortunately, she was concentrating so hard on this that, as she stepped out of the vehicle, she did not notice the bump in the red carpet. She walked forward, smiling up at her father, and promptly toppled like a felled tree. Her skirt billowed up, settling gracefully over her head and exposing everything from the waist down with horrific precision. Though she struggled back to her feet and smoothed down her dress, she already knew what photo was going to typify her attendance at this event.

“Are you all right, Petal?” her father asked, still smiling like nothing monstrously embarrassing had just happened.

“Y-yes Dad,” Charlie stuttered. “Can we just go inside already?”

“In due course, in due course, you have to give the press a show, after all. They do so love their little photo shoots.”

Charlie felt she had given them enough of a show already but did not contradict him in public. Instead, she did her best to summon back her smile and posed for a few father-daughter photos before finally, gratefully heading inside.

“Who knew the Princess of Hell wears big ol’ granny panties?” chuckled a reporter who clearly thought they were out of earshot.

Charlie felt every pinch and squeeze of her dress as they walked the corridor to the ballroom. Her father tipped his hat in greeting at a few demons, some uglier than sin itself, others so beautiful that her dress seemed to pinch even tighter as punishment for her not being that attractive. Yet he did not stop to chat. Charlie hurried along beside him, trying to find a pace that would let her walk in stiletto heels without turning an ankle. She so preferred flats. And shirts. And pants. God how she missed pants right now.

“Here we are!” Lucifer tapped his cane up to the ballroom double doors where a pair of chimera demons in tuxedos waited. “Chin up now, Charlie. Big smiles!” He demonstrated by pulling his even wider, showing perfect rows of gleaming fangs.

Charlie gave her own pallid facsimile.

“Come, come now, Petal. Bigger than that. I know you can do better. Imagine you’re smiling at … oh, I don’t know. Some internet joke? What are they called again – mee-mees?”

“Memes, Dad.”

“Yes, one of those. Think of the funniest one you can.”

By tomorrow her underwear exposure would doubtless be memed by those who survived the night. She stretched her mouth uncomfortably wider.

“Excellent! Open up, boys.”

The chimeras dragged open the doors with their mouths and the King and Princess of Hell sallied forth to greet their guests.

Charlie stared at her own fingertip tracing the rim of her glass and tried her best not to set Helsa Von Eldritch’s hair on fire. Helsa’s laughter, piercing and obnoxious, sliced through the chatter and deep into Charlie’s rapidly growing headache. She risked a glance to see the other girl holding one delicate wrist in front of her mouth, as if that would do anything to obscure her foghorn voice. Around her, a bevy of male demons crowded with their tongues practically hanging out. Most, at least, had the good grace not to stare overtly at Helsa’s bouncing bosoms, barely contained in a plunging, strapless, backless, slit-skirted … actually, could it even be considered a dress when it was comprised of so little fabric? Whatever that scrap of clothing was called, her boobs threatened to break free every time she laughed.

Charlie picked at her own sleeve. She supposed she should have made more effort to choose a dress before the last minute. She had such mixed feelings about the Cleanse these days, she had been putting off thinking about the party altogether. That is, until she came home one day to find her father had done it for her and generously purchased something from a top designer who was eager to display their wares on royalty. Unhelpfully, that designer had died in the 18^th Century and championed a Victorian aesthetic that left Charlie in a seaweed green thing with long frilly sleeves, long frilly hemline, a high frilly collar and enough ruffles and bows to drown her own meagre chest and hips.

Helsa laughed again. Charlie winced. Azazel Plutonius wasn’t that funny. No way had he said anything worth that kind of a laugh. She risked another glance and saw Helsa looking directly at her. She was clearly watching for Charlie’s reaction, presumably to the noise and her swathe of male attention. Helsa smirked, opened a wrist fan with a flourish and wafted coquettishly at her own face. She leaned toward the boys, saying something Charlie could not make out. It was greeted by peals of laughter.

Did she tell them her IQ? Charlie wondered resentfully.

Helsa sauntered away, hips swaying, entourage following like hellhounds after a bitch in heat.

Charlie felt small and ugly and useless at the edge of the mingling crowd. Big social occasions weren’t her forte and she resisted them as much as possible – at least with the upper echelons of demon society. Swimming in a tank of ravenous piranhas seemed safer than maintaining friendships with this crowd. Half the time she felt more comfortable staying home and chatting online with demons she had never even met in person but shared her misgivings about the Cleanse and were willing to talk to ‘ChazMaz666’ about it.

There had been a time she had not been so crushingly lacking in confidence. That was the lasting effect of dating Seviathan von Eldritch all through school and having his sister pour every scrap of Mean Girl venom into destroying your self-esteem so you don’t think you’re better than her just because you’re a princess and someday you might control her family fortune too. That last part was no longer a concern after she and Seviathan broke up but that did not seem to have dampened Helsa’s wrath. It was no wonder seeing her now filled Charlie with dread.

Charlie wondered whether Seviathan had come to the party. He probably had. If Helsa was here, her brother and their parents would be somewhere too, networking like crazy. The Von Eldritches had been devastated when Charlie broke things off with their son, having apparently already planned what they would do when their boy married into the Magne family inheritance they were sure Charlie had access to. Charlie had no desire to see them, which galvanised her into prising herself off the wall and making her way to the dinner tables where some demons were already seating themselves according to their name placements.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if y’all could please make your way to your seats, we’d be very much obliged. In just five lil’ itty bitty minutes, we’ll be starting the show,” purred a soft southern voice through the speakers set into each corner of the room. Charlie recognised it as Manadjè Otèlla, manager of the hotel, who always acted as Master of Ceremonies at her mother’s parties.

Sure enough, on the stage at the far end of the enormous room, a large black and white feline demon pushed a rakish fringe from the third eye in his forehead with one set of paws while the others replaced the microphone on its stand. He was decked out in a shiny gold tuxedo made even more kitsch by what looked like a human skull pendant, except Charlie was reasonably sure real humans didn’t come that small. Then again, maybe some did. How would she know? She had never seen a real one before their soul got to Hell and manifested its new demonic body.

Everyone assumed their places at their tables with excited chattering. Lucifer slid into his seat at Charlie’s table, a chair notably free between them. They were, naturally, at the front of the room, right next to the stage, so Charlie was in plain view when both Helsa and Seviathan plopped down at the table next to theirs. Seviathan pointedly did not look at Charlie but Helsa treated her to yet another smirk that made Charlie’s hands glow and heat up. She startled when her father reached for her wrist.

“Careful now, Petal.”

She realised the wineglass stem had started to liquify in her grasp and hastily set it aside before it could melt completely and spill the remains of her drink in full view of the whole room. She was sure she heard Helsa giggle but in that moment the lights dimmed and a spotlight coalesced in the middle of the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Manadjè announced grandly. “If y’all wouldn’t mind assuming some quiet now, we’re about ready to begin. Your waiters will be bringing you each course as the night progresses but first, it is time for the countdown!”

On the far wall, a video projection of Cleanse Clocktower appeared. Charlie looked up at it, watching the final seconds tick down. As one, the party crowd picked up the chant.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!”

Everyone roared exultantly around her. Charlie’s stomach clenched. This was literally a countdown to death for other demons. Surely, she could not be the only one here with doubts?

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!”

As the clock hands hit home, the giant numbers set into the lower half of the tower creaked and flipped to read 0. The bell started to toll, sending out the warning to all demons who might still be on the streets that the yearly massacre was about to begin.

Not that they really needed the reminder, since at that moment the giant sky-pentagram that separated Hell from the mortal realm split along its seams, peeling back to reveal darkness so thick it seemed to absorb light from the stars themselves. From this cloying blackness emerged an enormous gangly figure. It dropped like a meteor ready to smash into the ground until, with a whoosh, it unfurled huge feathery wings and slowed its fall. While the demon elite watched, the creature landed in a crouch in downtown Pentagram City, crushing at least one building. Though it was up on screen, they all felt the ground shudder from the impact.

The first deaths of the evening. How many demons had lived in that tenement? Charlie knew it to be a tenement. The richer districts fortified their homes with curses and wards to keep them standing in the event of a pitched battle between Exterminators and demons.

The enormous winged creature straightened up, revealing the mismatching eyes and painted smile they all recognised and feared. Even overlords knew to be afraid of that face because if you were close enough to make out the finer details you were probably about to die. It threw out two arms as long as the clocktower was tall, each limb fragmenting into smaller identical lean grey figures. More poured out of its torso, until the whole thing had unravelled into dozens of Exterminators.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Angels of Death are here. The Cleanse has officially begun.” Manadjè smiled widely at his audience, wagging a theatrical claw. “Now don’t you worry none, we’re the safest of any demons in Hell in here. For the next twenty-four hours, y’all will be fed, entertained and afforded the most luxurious rooms in which to lay your illustrious heads until the Cleanse is over and it’s safe to mosey on outside again. For obvious safety reasons, all the doors and windows have now been locked, physically reinforced and protected with the finest of blood-wards to keep out those there Angels, so we’d appreciate it if y’all could refrain from opening any of them. Those who find they just can’t bear to follow the rules will be dealt with summarily and unequivocally by Her Highness and their punishment will be … well, it don’t bear thinking about but it wouldn’t be pretty.”

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd, albeit a more nervous one than usual. On the wall, the projected image showed the Exterminators going to work. Thighs like steel cords bunching as some jumped into the air, spears slicing through winged demons who had foolishly tried to out-fly them. Others marched on foot into the streets to pursue homeless demons who had no place to hide from them. Charlie closed her eyes, unable to watch.

The projection snapped off. Charlie looked up at Manadjè. He gestured flamboyantly at the closed curtains behind him.

“And now, we truly begin our night’s entertainment! Join me in a round of applause as I introduce your host: the one, the only, Queen Lilith!”

He backed away in time with the curtains opening to reveal a voluptuous figure in the centre of the stage. She seemed to glide forward to the mic stand. Thunderous clapping greeted her, though when she raised a hand it stopped instantly. Lilith gazed around at the assembled guests, mouth pulled into a small, mysterious smile that had vexed many and allured many more.

Briefly, her gaze alighted on the table where her daughter and husband sat. Her expression did not change but Charlie felt like she read a thousand things in her mother’s half-lidded eyes. When Lilith carried on to the next table, Charlie could not help feeling emptier, as if that look alone had scoured her through.

Lilith finished her survey of the room. She raised both hands, nodded at the orchestra pit and the band began to play a slow rhythm that was all bass and a low trumpet. The whole room stilled, knowing what was coming next.

And into this stillness, Lilith began to sing.

Charlie had never met a siren but her father had told her stories of the days when a few used to live in Hell, before they were all culled by the Exterminators. According to him, sirens’ voices were so beautiful, they muddled the minds of mortals, causing them to commit suicide simply for the love of their songs. Demons were much less susceptible but even Lucifer himself confessed to a strange toe-tingling and a desire to open his wallet whenever he heard them busking on street corners for spare change.

Lilith’s singing was what Charlie imagined a siren’s call might have sounded like. Her smoky voice curled around lyrics, twisting them into sultry poses before pushing them into the air with her breath. Every syllable was breathtakingly gorgeous and Lilith did not have to do more than bring the microphone closer to her obsidian lips to keep the attention of every eye in the room. Gradually, the beat quickened and her hips swayed as she sang of lost souls, lost hopes, lost dreams and lost histories; of lives snuffed out and the cycle of life and death and rebirth and, finally, the void of oblivion; of death beyond death and a place from whence not even a demon overlord could return. The trumpet gave a crescendoing screech and she held out her arms, voice swelling into exultations that they enjoy the sweetness of existence while they had it. Her song urged them to make the most of this life because tomorrow it might be gone, culminating in a note so thin and high that when she held it, every other demon also held their breath until she finished in a crash of drums and cymbals.

Charlie got to her feet for the standing ovation. There was always a standing ovation. Her mother always deserved one. Lilith bowed at the waist, blew a kiss to Lucifer and smiled as he pretended to catch it and hold it to his heart. She waited for the applause to end. It took several minutes. When the audience finally began to retake their seats, Lilith nodded and raised the microphone once more.

“Greetings, everyone. My gratitude to you all for coming out tonight. I trust you are all well and eager to get on with the festivities.”

Festivities? Charlie imagined the carnage going on outside.

“For the next few minutes your waiters will be bringing you the starters for which you indicated a preference on your RSVPs. We will resume the show when everyone is served. Thank you again for your attendance. It is an honour and a privilege to endure this Cleanse in your eminent company.”

She relinquished the microphone to Manadjè and made her way down the steps at the edge of the stage to take her place between Lucifer and Charlie. Applause followed her but it was shorter-lived this time as everyone was taken up with the arrival of wonderful smelling food.

“You did great, Mom,” Charlie whispered.

“A stunning performance, Beloved!” Lucifer threw out his hands melodramatically. “I’d even hazard to say your best yet!”

Lilith gave them both the same small smile. “Thank you both. Personally, I think it could have been better.”

“Pshaw!” Lucifer slapped a palm against the tablecloth, nearly upsetting the plate a waiter was about to place there. “Pish posh, even! Listening to you is nectar to the ears, Beloved.”

“You old charmer.”

“Hey, less of the old!”

“Oh hush, you don’t look a day over three hundred.”

Charlie watched her parents with her own small smile. When her mother turned to look at her directly, she realised she was leaning on one elbow with her chin in her hand, her expression dopey. Hastily she adopted a more formal posture, hands folded demurely in her lap.

“That’s an interesting dress you have on, Charlotte.”

“Uh …”

“I chose it for her,” Lucifer declared proudly. “Isn’t it dishy?”

Lilith’s eyes traced the gigantic ruffles and bows. “It’s very … busy.” Her tone did not betray any hint of disapproval. “Do you like it, Charlotte?”

Charlie looked at her father’s proud grin. “Yes, it’s great. It’s very, um, quirky. And you know how I am about quirky things. Ha-ha. Ha.” She stretched her lips wider. “Heh.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Lilith replied thoughtfully. “You do have a habit of collecting ‘quirky’ things nobody else wants, don’t you?”

Charlie’s fake smile faltered. “Y-yeah, I guess I do.”

Her mother watched her for a few moments. Charlie squirmed, somewhat relieved when Lilith’s pale stare switched to the soup placed in front of her. She almost relaxed.

Almost.

“Do try not to get any soup stains on it though, Charlotte. You don’t want to draw too much attention to an outfit like that.”

This year’s party was proving to be the most interminable experience of Charlie’s life.

After starters were all served, a quartet of frog demons took to the stage for an acapella performance that hurt her ears, followed by a set of acrobats who ended their set by swallowing knives and then vomiting them back up while turning cartwheels, spelling out ‘That’s all folks’ on a giant vertical board in quivering shiny blades.

Main courses arrived. She was not ignorant of Helsa’s snide commentary to her brother over Charlie’s vegetarian option. Whispers passed from table to table, accompanied by snorts of laughter and necks straining to get a look at her nut roast and confirm it for themselves.

“I’ll bet Seviathan wouldn’t mind her roasting his nuts,” chortled Azazel Plutonius a little too loudly from three tables away.

“Or maybe not!” someone else guffawed. “She doesn’t have the fire for it!”

“Ha ha, good one!”

Self-conscious, Charlie stared fixedly at her plate as a jazzy saxophonist took to the stage. Her appetite had been squashed and the food that had looked and smelled so good before now seemed stomach-churning. She risked a glance sideways and saw her mother watching her with an inscrutable expression. Lilith never gave much away about what she was thinking but that usually just left Charlie assuming the worst.

She’s embarrassed about me, her brain whispered now. A demon who doesn’t like eating meat? That’s weird enough but I’m supposed to be a princess setting an example for others. Maybe I should have ordered the meat option anyway. Oh, but then I couldn’t have brought myself to eat it and the chef would get insulted that royalty doesn’t like his cooking and it’d be awful and I’d –

A male voice joined the lilting saxophone. It was enough to jolt Charlie from her spiralling thoughts. She squinted at the stage, unable to see anyone but the saxophonist. After a moment, she realised the booming voice was coming from a tiny demon poking out of his top pocket. She watched, spellbound, as the singer warbled in a baritone that would have been less surprised coming from lungs eight times his size.

“Charlotte.”

“Sorry Mom.”

She picked up her knife and fork and began to eat, noting her parents had already polished off most of their meals before she had even started. Even more self-conscious now, she hurried to catch up and choked on a peanut.

“Ladies raise their napkins when they cough, Charlotte,” Lilith hummed.

“Yes, M-Mom,” Charlie wheezed, reaching for her glass.

Another cough ripped through her. Her hand jolted, knocking the glass flying. It tipped right off the table to land with a smash on the floor. Instantly, a tiny one-eyed demon with dragonfly wings buzzed up with a dustpan and brush.

“You don’t need to do that,” Charlie started.

“Yes, he does.” Her mother took a delicate bite of her venison, not even looking up.

“But –”

“Petal, leave him be.” Her father cut a tiny piece of pork and slathered it in so much apple sauce the meat disappeared beneath it. “It’s part of his punishment to always be compelled to clean up after others.”

Charlie sagged. “Oh.” She picked up her fork again. “Um…” A waiter appeared as if out of thin air bearing a fresh glass already filled with wine. “Oh. Thanks.” He bowed and backed away, leaving her in awkward silence, her appetite now completely and thoroughly gone.

Some time later, when the main course dishes were being cleared away, Lilith’s brows ticked ever so slightly down. “Did you not like your food, Charlotte? Chef Dhemit made yours specially since nobody else wanted a meatless option.”

“I’m just not very hungry. Sorry.”

“It is a little gauche to ask for special treatment and then not even consume it.”

“Oh, leave her alone, Beloved.” Lucifer twirled a dessert fork on his fingertip, letting it glitter in the overhead fey- lanterns. “You know how young girls are about eating in public, especially when their thoughts are all taken up with pretty gowns and fitting into them. Plus, there’s dancing to think about. Dancing on a full stomach can have ghastly consequences.”

Lilith made a noncommittal noise but dropped the subject. Charlie breathed out – and then promptly regretted it when her waistband attempted to reshape her ribcage into a funnel. Her father had been wrong but this dress was indeed far, far too tight.

As dessert arrived, a fire-eater and a fire-breather took to the stage, pirouetting around each other in a complicated dance that periodically involved one being tossed into the air and breathing fire into the other’s mouth at great distance. Each time, the fire eater’s flaming forked tail lit one of the many sparklers positioned around them in a ring, until they were surrounded by effervescing lights. Lucifer was very taken with the act, clapping his hands gleefully as they finished and taking far longer to finish his apple pie than usual. Lilith said nothing but smiled as she spooned sorbet and stole tender glances at him throughout.

Charlie watched her parents. Someday, she hoped she might have a relationship as strong as theirs. None of the other overlords were married to demons of comparable power and even their gallery of romantic and sexual partners came from other walks of demon life. Certainly, nobody else had paired off with another overlord. It made Lucifer and Lilith quite literally a power couple everyone wanted to either be or be around. It had taken Charlie years to realise this was why so many of her peers were shoved at her by their parents as potential BFFs and dates.

Her ears picked out Helsa and Seviathan’s laugher amongst the crowd. Her shoulders lowered a few inches.

“Still not hungry, Charlotte?”

“Uh, no Mom. Sorry. I … lost my appetite, I guess.”

“You seem very distracted this evening.”

“You’re not still thinking about our conversation from the car, are you Petal?” Lucifer twirled his dessert fork until it pointed at her.

“N-no Dad.”

Lilith looked between the two of them, lips a little tighter than before, but did not enquire what he meant by that. Instead, she placed her elbows on the table and steepled her hands under her chin. “Charlotte, when the show is over, your father and I will be promenading with the other overlords. You aren’t to disappear to your room as soon as we’re out of sight. Understood?”

Charlie gulped. She had been planning to do exactly that. Razzle and Dazzle had delivered her luggage up there earlier in the day and she was eager to duck out of the uncomfortable party and decompress – not to mention get out of this dress. Under the weight of her mother’s gaze, however, she found herself nodding. Just like every other year, she and her parents would stay until the very last guest had departed for their room before retiring to their own.

“Understood.”

“Good girl.” Lilith’s expression softened into a smile. She reached over to hold Charlie’s cheek in her palm, stroking a thumb back and forth like she had done when Charlie was just a toddler. “Please don’t look on tonight as a chore, Charlotte darling. Look on it as a chance to make some new connections. Some … friends.” A hint of sadness crept into the word, as if they both knew that was easier said than done.

Nonetheless, Charlie smiled back at her. “I’ll try, Mom.”

“Thank you.”

The dancefloor heaved with bejewelled guests swirling around each other like Siamese fighting fish. It was so full that Charlie found it difficult to tell where one dancer’s body ended and another began. Instinctively she pressed closer to the wall, tucking her feet close in to avoid being stepped on.

Nobody had asked her to dance.

She watched as demons she had known since childhood mingled with others she had never seen before, all in pairs, all smiling. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. The clock on the wall told her she had been watching them for close to an hour. It felt more like ten.

Her promise to her mother was the only thing keeping her in the room. She thought about her phone, dutifully switched off and tucked into her suitcase as instructed. If she had that she could be playing Angry Harpies instead of literally watching the seconds tick by.

“What’s the matter, Chaaaaarlie?”

In the small of her back, her hands bunched into fists. “Hi, Helsa.”

Helsa’s teeth gleamed in a brittle smile. She was taller than Charlie but not by much, even in stacked heels, so the exaggerated way she leaned down to talk to her was absolutely just for effect. “Can’t you find a dance partner? Awww, too bad, so sad.”

“We’re out of high school and you’re still using lines like that? I thought better of you, Helsa.”

“Ouch, such savagery. My ego shall never recover.” Helsa pressed the back of one hand to her forehead, the other cupping a glass of champagne that she brought to her lips before continuing. “So, what’s with not bringing a date? Couldn’t find a dick to suck in time? Or did all the guys whose dicks you sucked run when they discovered how bad you are at BJs?”

Charlie spluttered. Heat pooled in her palms. She forced the fire back down. “Looks to me like you sucked a lot more than I did in advance of tonight,” she replied, thinking of the horde of guys who had followed Helsa around all night.

“Bitch, I know you think that sounds clever but trust me, it doesn’t.”

Don’t rise to the bait, Charlie, don’t rise to it. She’s just trying to get a reaction from you. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

“So, what, are you just too frigid to get a date or what?”

Don’t rise to it!

“Because that’s what Seviathan said about you.”

Heat shot simultaneously into Charlie’s fingertips and face. “Wh-what?”

Helsa sipped her champagne and shrugged. “My brother told his friends that you’re frigid and that’s why he dumped you.” Sip. “Abraxas told me.” Sip. “He said you led Seviathan on and kept promising sex that never came until he shelled out money for gifts and jewellery and things.” Sip. “And then when you finally slept with him, he said it was like banging a set of metal steps after a blizzard.” Sip. “And you wanted more gifts from him afterwards, like he should have been flattered you deigned to disappoint him in the sack.” Sip. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

Charlie could not catch her breath. She remembered Seviathan buying her things she didn’t want and hadn’t asked for. She had told him she didn’t need presents, that just being with him was enough, but he had never quite seemed to believe her. Only after she had cooed over some bauble or other did he relax and seem to enjoy their time together, as if her appreciation of his wealth mattered more than anything else to him. It had always struck her as strange, since in all other ways Seviathan was totally unlike his family, but an obsession with material worth was something he just could not put aside. She had thought that maybe, after spending the night of the Summer Cotillion together in his room at his family’s mansion, his attitude would change; that he would see she liked him for him, not for what he could buy. Yet, if anything, he had doubled down on showering her with expensive gifts against her wishes. She had begged him not to but he had persisted, expecting larger and larger amounts of gratitude until she was so uncomfortable that she started giving them to homeless charities, who could sell them and use the money to provide shelter for demons with nowhere to hide during the Cleanse. Seviathan had been horrified. He simply could not understand how she could prioritise the populace over him. Not long after that the relationship had ended when Charlie told Seviathan they were just too different to make a relationship work. They had parted ways like ships guided by two entirely different rudders.

“I take it from your silence that it’s true.”

Charlie blinked back to reality. “N-no, it’s not. It’s not true at all.”

“So you’re not a crap shag after all?” Helsa treated her to a stare that could wither plants at thirty paces.

“I … I mean … that’s not … where’s Seviathan?”

“With Dimonica Du Sang.”

A svelte demon whose beauty was only accentuated by the fact she had six enormous blue breasts and a smile rivalling Katie Killjoy herself. Charlie pushed herself off the wall and stalked out onto the dancefloor, looking left and right for either Seviathan or Dimonica. She vaguely heard Helsa’s heels clicking after her but the noise faded into the sound of her own pounding blood in her ears.

Seviathan her been her first time. She had trusted him. Things had ended badly between them but the guy she knew would never have said such awful things about her, much less used them as grist for the rumour mill.

She caught a flash of glowing green smile and turned in that direction. Dimonica saw her first, cobalt eyes widening in what might have been alarm. Charlie wondered if her horns were showing. Seviathan turned to see what Dimonica was looking at and his grey skin took on a greenish pallor.

“Ch-Charlie?”

Charlie waited until she was up close to speak. The music was loud and the dancers louder but she didn’t want to shout her question. “Is it true what Helsa says you’ve been telling your friends about me?”

Seviathan’s eyes widened. His gaze flicked over Charlie’s shoulder, no doubt at his sister. “Helsa!” An eye popped out on his forehead. Much like Charlie’s horns, that happened when he got stressed or mad. “What did you do that for?”

“So it is true.” Suddenly all the giggling behind her back and strange looks from her peers made sense. Charlie’s heart sank. Her eyes filled with tears and her hands filled with flames. “How dare you spread lies like that, Seviathan. How dare you.”

“Now, now, Charmander, let’s not overreact about this –”

Charmander had been his pet name for her. Hearing it now made her heart hurt more. “You’ve made me a laughing stock at my own mother’s party. Why?”

“I … it wasn’t …” Seviathan struggled for words. His eyes darted around nervously. Charlie knew she never usually made scenes in public and her doing it now was probably deeply confusing for him. Maybe that was what he had been counting on what he told his friends she was a –

She winced. “Why, Seviathan?”

The answer came from behind her. “Because why not? Lighten up, Charmander. You’re such a drag – ow!”

Charlie was moving before she could register what she was doing. She spun on one foot, hand outstretched, and slapped Helsa square in the face. “Shut up, Helsa! For once in your life just stay out of things that aren’t your business and shut the fuck up!”

Helsa boggled. One hand went to her cheek, as if she could not quite believe what had just happened. Then her mouth pulled into a snarl and glowering green eyes erupted all over her skin. Her torso sprouted fangs that gnashed the air and her hair lifted around her, thickening into tentacles with sharp-lipped suckers on their undersides.

“You little bitch!” She hurled her champagne into Charlie’s face, glass and all.

Charlie raised a hand, catching and liquifying the glass in the same motion. Champagne sizzled and evaporated off her fist. “Bring it, you arrogant, condescending … mean bitch!” It was an insult that started strong and tailed off, as most of her attempts usually did, but it had the intended effect.

With a scream, Helsa leapt at her.

“Oh shit–”

Charlie braced for impact but still hit the deck, skidding along the polished dancefloor with Helsa on top of her. She held the other girl off by gripping her wrists, pouring heat into her hands. Helsa screeched as her flesh began to bubble. She leaned down to whack their foreheads together. Charlie saw stars, grip slipping. Helsa took the opportunity to press in, mouth wide and aimed for Charlie’s neck.

“Helsa! Charlie! Stop!” Seviathan yelled.

Fresh anger sluiced through Charlie. She felt her skull morph. Dipping her chin and straightening her arms, she shifted Helsa’s balance mid-strike, forcing her to bite down on horn instead of throat. She heard a snap followed by a muffled shriek. Something wet dripped into her eyes, staining her vision red.

“I’ll kill you,” Helsa lisped. “I’ll thucking murder you!”

A chugging, staticky noise suddenly filled the air. Charlie might have attributed it to the blood rushing in her ears but for the fact her body slowed down and froze in place. Helsa’s did likewise. Even the gobbet of spit and blood dribbling off her lip stopped in mid-air. The two girls stared at each other, locked in motionless panic.

A figure stepped from the crowd, adjusted his tie and tapped the floor with his cane. At first Charlie thought it was her father but from what she could see of the feet the colour scheme was all wrong. Her father never wore anything but white with red accents. This figure was clothed entirely in the brownish-red of old dried blood. She tried to turn her head to see more but could not make her body respond.

“Stand by, all.” The voice sounded … wrong, as if it was speaking over a bad phone connection. “Is this a Code Red, a Code Blue or a Code Yellow? Haha!” The figure stepped over and grabbed Helsa’s bloody drool from the air, pressing it between gloved fingers. It bulged like old chewing gum. He gave a crackly laugh. “Definitely Code Red. Oh, what fun. These parties are usually so dreadfully dull.”

Charlie was aware that the dancing had ground to a halt around them, though not from whatever time-stoppage had taken hold of her and Elsa. No, the party had stopped so everyone could watch what was going on in the centre of the rapidly expanding circle of demons. From the corner of her eye, she saw Seviathan trying to blend into the wall of bodies.

“No, no, no, young man, you can’t possibly leave the scene of this delicious crime!”

He shot towards them like he had been caught by an invisible lasso.

“This is all too interesting to let you pretend you’re not involved. So much drama! So much spectacle! And you’re one of the stars of the show!”

Seviathan was placed perfectly for Charlie to see him look around in dismay. His expression only worsened when his parents emerged from the crowd. Even his hat seemed to wilt at their approach. Yet the Von Eldritches did not speak. They stared, open-mouthed, at whoever was standing just out of Charlie’s line of sight.

“Alastor.” Lilith glided into view. “What is going on here?”

“Why, I believed it to be an extra bout of entertainment you’d laid on for us, Queen Lilith.”

“I can assure you; this spectacle is nothing of my doing.”

“Really? But isn’t that your daughter there in the throes of passionate violence?”

“Yes,” Lilith said tightly. “It is.”

“Ohoho! Then it is technically of your doing, isn’t it?”

“Ah, Alastor, you never tire of wordplay, do you old bean?” Lucifer ambled up to his wife, smiling like this was all some great jape. “That’s what I like most about you.”

“Really? I thought what you liked most about me was that I haven’t yet enacted a coup to overthrow you and display your body and those of your family on crucifixes in the middle of the city with all your organs exposed for harpies to eat.”

The offhanded threat clicked the speaker’s identity into place in Charlie’s mind: The Radio Demon. If she could have moved her eyelids, they would have widened in terror. Few overlords inspired fear like The Radio Demon. He was powerful, capricious and impulsive; totally uncaring of either tradition or what other overlords thought about him and willing to commit the worse kinds of carnage against his own kind on whims nobody else could comprehend. She had heard stories of how he systematically butchered previous overlords when he first arrived in Hell, absorbing their power until he rivalled even Lucifer himself. She remembered hearing that he sometimes opened portals to the mortal world and made deals with humans to give them their hearts’ desires, just to see how he could interpret their wording to trick them into torturous deaths. Then he waited for their souls to arrive in hell so he could drag them into his employ for more ‘fun’ based on their ‘debts’ to him.

The Radio Demon crouched by her head and leaned over. His face was all sharp points and luminous red. He grinned down at her. She saw her father’s fingers tighten ever so slightly on his cane when the Radio Demon reached out to pinch her cheek and jiggle it back and forth like a friendly uncle. His fingers were prickly, like being pinched by hot tongs

“You might want to ask your progeny why she chose to start this fight, Lucy ol’ pal.” He met her gaze and … winked? “This young lad here threw her honour to the wolves rather than admit she dumped him like yesterday’s takeout trash. Such a cad! Such a stinker! The slap was amazing! I practically felt it myself. If only she had delivered it to him instead of his harlot sister.” The Radio Demon glanced at the Von Eldritches. “You might want to teach your kids some manners, folks. Or don’t. It’s more fun if you don’t but you may find you have to pop out a few replacements when the consequences of their actions catch up with them.”

Lucifer buffed his nails on his jacket and examined them on an outstretched arm. “Can the girls breathe when you stop time around them like that, Alastor?”

“Hmm, never really thought about it before.” The Radio Demon leaned in close, first to Helsa’s mouth, then Charlie’s. “Nope, can’t feel any breath. I wonder if they’ve suffocated already?” He clicked his fingers.

The chugging, staticky noise returned. Time snapped back. Helsa collapsed on top of Charlie like a bag of wet sand. Charlie pushed her off and they lay on their backs, desperately sucking in air.

“Ah, they’re fine and dandy.” The Radio Demon stood up. “That’s much less entertaining. I imagine if I’d accidentally killed your daughter, you’d have tried to kill me and we’d have had a confrontation on our hands to rival the Great War of 1914!”

“Quite possibly.” Lucifer’s eyes were half-lidded but burning. “Less phosphor gas though. I always thought that was a dashedly unsporting invention.”

“You know, I always wondered who’d win if you and I had a spat, Lucy ol’ pal. It’d certainly be a close-run thing.”

“Not so close run as you might think,” Lilith interposed smoothly. Her horns grew a few millimetres, curling further down her back. Her ears became slightly pointy. Her pupils thinned to slits.

The Radio Demon clearly understood her meaning but rather than seemed intimidated, he just looked excited at the idea of fighting two overlords instead of one. “Ah well, but the girl survived and there’s a party to get back to and a Cleanse to endure, so we shall have to leave that battle to another day. Though, rest assured, I am looking forward to it. I have so many more tricks up my sleeves than either of you know.” He flashed them a razor grin and sauntered off, swinging his cane in a wide arc.

Demons parted to let him pass. He barely seemed to notice. Charlie watched him approach a stunned waiter and select a flute of champagne that boiled at his touch.

“Thank you, my good sir.” The Radio Demon turned to the crowd. “Well? What are you all waiting for? This is a party, isn’t it? I don’t see much partying going on.”

At once, a susurrus passed through the assembled demons and they dispersed, shooting glances at the three overlords and two girls still prone on the floor. The band started playing again; an upbeat, jazzy tune mixing with the gossipy whispers.

The Von Eldritches hurried over to grab their children. Helsa had time to fire off one last glare at Charlie before she was dragged away. Seviathan winced under his father’s rough ministrations. He tried to dispute his role in the whole ordeal but was quickly shushed. All four worked their way through the crowd to the exit, clearly heading to their rooms. For them, the party was over.

Charlie pushed herself into a sitting position as her own parents approached. She raised her gaze slowly, dreading what she would see in their faces.

Her father smiled down at her, offering a hand to help her up.

“Thanks, Dad. I … I’m sorry.”

“Care to share, Petal?”

What could she say? Seviathan has been telling everyone he dumped me because I’m frigid and bad at sex and they’ve all been laughing at me behind my back all evening and I got so mad at Helsa that I got into a fight and nearly caused all-out war between you and the most powerful other overlord there is by accident and by the way sorry for that?

“It … it’s personal.” She tucked hair behind her ear, realising belatedly that her sleeve was torn from wrist to elbow. “Between me and Seviathan.”

“And let me guess: Helsa Von Bitchybutt inserted herself where she had no place being and escalated things?”

Charlie nodded. Her throat felt hot and tight. Her eyes prickled. Suddenly she wanted to burst into tears, bystanders be damned.

Someone gently lifted her chin. Lilith stared into Charlie’s face for a moment, turning it this way and that. “We overheard … gossip during our promenade.” Her voice betrayed no emotion. “Your father perforated Baron Plutonius’s foot with the end of his cane for it.”

Charlie gaped.

“Total accident,” Lucifer said nonchalantly. “Wouldn’t have happened if he’d kept his mouth shut about my daughter’s sex life, though. He sounded like a stuck piggy. I was tempted to put an apple in his mouth but then I realised it’d be a waste of a perfectly good apple.”

Dual emotions ribboned through Charlie: relief that her parents did not seem angry at her fighting and abject embarrassment that they already knew exactly why she had done it. Nobody, neither mortal nor demon, wants their parents to know the intimate details of their sex life.

“You are a princess, Charlotte,” Lilith said softly. “You are royalty. And, to quote your father, royalty does not take shit from other demons.”

“Absolutely.” Lucifer adjusted his hat. “Next year, Beloved, you need to thin out the guest list a little. Let’s see how fending off the Exterminators without our protection teaches gossips and rumourmongers to keep their big flappy mouths shut, eh?”

“Agreed, Beloved.”

Charlie gulped. “Can I … can I go up to my room now, please?”

Lilith paused before nodding. She released her daughter’s chin and Charlie hurried away before she started bawling in front of all of demon upper society.

Her head throbbed. She tore at her dress. She had tried to reach the zipper and discovered it had broken off during her slide across the dancefloor. Frustration gave way to violence and she let her claws grow, shredding the fabric until she held the entire line of zipper teeth in her hand. The back of the uncomfortable dress fell away and, for the first time since putting it on, Charlie felt like she could breathe.

She used her newfound breath to sink to her knees and sob. Hot, angry tears slid down her face. Stupid Seviathan. Stupid Helsa. Stupid Radio Demon. Stupid party. Stupid … her.

That was what it came down to, wasn’t it? She was stupid. Too stupid to navigate social situations that everyone else cruised through with ease. Too stupid to maintain a functional romantic relationship. Too stupid to do anything even remotely princess-ly correct.

Her mother made it look easy. Her father made it look fun. Why did she find it so fucking difficult?

“What is wrong with me?”

Something touched her hand. She looked down to see Razzle nosing at her palm. She raised her arm to stroke his woolly head. On her other side, Dazzle bleated worriedly. When in range, they were keyed to her emotions. Her father had made sure of that when he enchanted the two stuffed dolls to life decades ago. Now they stared up at her with big, anxious eyes.

“It’s okay, boys. I’m just … having a moment.”

Dazzle licked her exposed elbow. His tongue tickled. She held out her arms and they both jumped into her embrace. She buried her face in their soft warmth, allowing her tears to rub off into their wool and fur. It was a ritual they had performed many times before in her childhood when things got too overwhelming.

“Thanks boys.”

One of them nibbled her ear. Charlie giggled, pulling her head out of reach. Her smile seemed to bring them comfort, tear-streaked though it was.

Razzle and Dazzle retreated to sit on her suitcase and dressing table while she took off the remains of her dress. She held it at arm’s length, surveying the damage. One side was torn and the back was ripped to pieces. It could maybe be repaired but she was certainly never going to wear it again. She put it on a hanger anyway and resolved to shower and put on her pyjamas instead. Maybe she could sleep away the majority of the Cleanse.

The Cleanse.

The Exterminators.

A familiar weight settled in Charlie’s stomach. She glanced at the curtained window, warded against attack but unassuming in appearance. Blood-wards were powerful, a double-ward even more so, and one made from the blood of both the King and Queen of Hell … well, there was a reason no demon inside this hotel worried about the Exterminators getting them and why invitations to this party were so highly prized.

Gingerly, Charlie crossed the room and reached for the curtains. She hesitated but her stomach roiled. Gripping both sides, she flung them wide. The glass sparkled with a glittering red tinge, staining the view beyond the colour of blood.

Her hands shot to her mouth.

Dozens of Exterminators circled overhead, like a flock of vultures waiting for prey to lay still so they could eat it, whether or not it was still alive. Giant spears jutted from the street below, each bearing the head or body of a dead demon. Some protruded sideways from buildings, dismembered limbs dangling like pennants.

She watched as an Exterminator peeled away from the flock and dived down, only to rise up again a moment later holding a struggling form. Another Exterminator peeled off, grabbing the feet of the captured male lupine demon. Both Exterminators beat their gigantic wings, pulling in opposite directions. The demon screamed so loud Charlie could hear it even through warded glass. His belly tore open, viscera spilling free. His exposed spine held for a moment longer before the vertebrae split apart. The two Exterminators flew in opposite directions, tearing and rending at their prize. Bloody organs rained on the cars below. His fluffy tail floated down until it caught in a phone wire. The Exterminator bearing his decapitated head summoned a spear to its hand out of nowhere, jammed it into the brickwork of a nearby high-rise and wedged the skull on the tip. The demon’s tongue flapped in the breeze, one eye dangling from its socket. Blood oozed down the spear shaft. Something diaphanous and white billowed from the mouth. The Exterminator seized this, grasping sharp claws into the smoke like it was solid. The wraith’s mouth slung wide in a silent, agonised scream as it burned up from the creature’s touch until there was nothing left. Even the demon’s damned soul had been exterminated.

Charlie backed away from the window, trying not to throw up. She had never been up in her room at this stage of the night before. Every other year she had dutifully stayed downstairs at the party and by the time she and her parents watched the last of the guests depart for their rooms, the worst of the carnage outside had passed. The lead weight in her stomach turned to acid. Bile lapped the back of her throat. She dashed for the en suite bathroom where she noisily threw up.

The Cleanse was even more awful than she could possibly have imagined.

“This … this can’t be the only way,” she coughed into the toilet bowl. “This is … too awful … there has to be a better way of … of …”

Another thin scream, abruptly cut off. She threw up again and kept throwing up until her insides were empty and her shoulders hurt from holding her upright. She rolled sideways, propped against the bathtub. Razzle crept over the bathroom threshold. When she didn’t chase him back out, he fluttered over to flush the toilet. Dazzle appeared a moment later bearing a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Thanks, guys,” Charlie murmured. “What would I ever do without you two?”

They bleated, pleased at the compliment.

One of them had laid her pyjamas out on the bed. She emerged from the bathroom and mechanically pulled on the flannel shorts and camisole. Belatedly, she realised she was still wearing her bra and pantyhose and had to strip, take those off and then put the pyjamas back on again. She tossed the underwear in the corner, resolving to deal with it in the morning, and pulled back the bedspread. Her parents’ hotels were the plushest in all of Pentagram City. Her body cried out to fall into the bed’s feathery embrace.

Something stopped her.

She glanced at the window again. She had left the curtains open. She knew she would not be able to sleep with that view or those sounds. She stepped over to grab the noise cancelling fabric.

And froze.

Down on the sidewalk a ball of yellow light was starting to coalesce. Charlie pressed her face to the glass in horror.

“Oh no. No, no, no, not tonight. Not out in the open like that!”

The ball spun in place, growing larger and larger, displacing the air around it. Pieces of shattered glass and congealing flesh were sucked towards the epicentre. It glowed white hot then bloomed into purple-gold iridescence that shattered, dumping its contents on the ground. After the energy dispersed, a small figure lay on the sidewalk in a foetal position.

A newly arrived soul in Hell.

The figure sat up, still reeling from the wooziness that accompanied all manifestations. Souls who had left their mortal bodies on earth and been reborn into demon bodies in Hell could take anything from minutes to days to acclimatise, depending on the complexity of their new form.

This one was not going to have time to acclimatise. An Exterminator was already descending.

“No!” Charlie smacked an ineffectual fist against the window. “This isn’t fair! They only just arrived! They haven’t had time to do anything yet!”

The figure looked up at the diving Exterminator. It scrambled under a nearly car, moving with the ungainliness of a new-born foal. The Exterminator landed heavily on the street, feet crushing concrete. It tossed the car aside with one hand, reaching for the new demon with the other.

Abruptly it pulled back, shaking its arm as if in pain. Something small and silvery stuck out of its palm. A … throwing star?

The little demon knelt awkwardly, reeling from the throw. Charlie gaped. It had … fought back? So soon after manifesting? Using the new powers and abilities afforded by demonic form was instinctual but still required practise. And to land a hit on an Exterminator? That was astonishing!

The Exterminator pulled out the throwing star, inspected it with cold blank eyes and tossed it aside. It summoned its own spear and stabbed at the little demon – but the demon was already moving. It had taken advantage of the Exterminator’s pause to sprint for a doorway. It hammered on the barred door, hollering for help. Moments later it spun and threw itself aside as the Exterminator flew at it, spear outstretched. The door tore half off its hinge but the demons inside were saved by the Exterminator’s preoccupation with the newly manifested demon. It gave chase again.

Charlie realised this time the demon was crossing the street to head for the hotel. She watched as it neared, resolving into a female form with long silver hair and grey skin. Like all newly manifested demons, she was naked. She bore no horns or spikes or other inbuilt weaponry; her tiny body was just covered in blank skin. That might account for why she was acclimatising so quickly but it was still impressive. Her bare feet left bloody footprints from the broken glass. Her skin was evidently pretty thin. She reached the hotel doors and tried to bang on those too but bounced off the wards before she could even get close. Where she landed, she left a bloody smear.

The Exterminator stabbed down, again and again, leaving divots in the sidewalk. The little grey demon rolled aside and threw something in the same motion. Her hands glowed. A javelin seemed to sprout from the Exterminator’s midriff. It staggered back, falling to one knee. The demon stared at her hands, eyes wide and terrified.

“What is going on?” Charlie heard her wail. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s happened to me?”

Those were questions most demons got answers to in the Manifestation Acclimatisation Centre. They weren’t welcome or nice answers but they were honest and, more importantly, did not come with a side order of murderous Angel of Death.

A dark form shot past Charlie’s window, startling her. She caught a glimpse of LED eyes and halo. Another Exterminator. It landed behind the grey demon and backhanded her. She ricocheted into the wards and bounced off again in a shower of red sparks. The second Exterminator offered a hand to the first. When the first accepted, however, the second reached out and wrenched the javelin from its middle. An electronic scream cut through the air. Gouts of thick, silvery liquid spurted from the wound.

Is that … blood? Charlie blinked. They can bleed?

The second Exterminator screeched like an angry owl in the face of the first. Was that what angelic language sounded like to demon ears? Then it turned on the grey demon. She was already trying to get to her feet but toppled over again, stunned. It stalked towards her, tossing aside her javelin and summoning its own long spear. She groggily threw out her hand and something zipped at its face. It batted aside the sai, which clattered uselessly to the ground, and plunged its spear down at her. She tried to move and managed to avoid a fatal blow but the tip impaled her lower leg. A web of concrete cracks shot from beneath her leg. The spear had gone through flesh and bone to hit sidewalk. She screamed; a sobbing, aching noise of someone who did not understand the reason for their current pain. Her other foot kicked out, trying to break the shaft of the spear to free herself even though her face was contorted in agony.

Charlie’s fists clenched. She could not watch any longer. She stepped away from the window. Sensing her emotions, Razzle and Dazzle hurried over. She stopped them with a raised hand. She wasn’t quite sure what she planned to do but she knew she had to do something. That grey demon had barely finished manifesting and yet was fighting so hard to survive. Charlie knew deep in her very core that she could not let that kind of determination be snuffed out so easily. It was dumb, possibly suicidal, but the thought felt right in a way so few things ever did to her.

Blood wards required the blood of the warder to be broken. Double blood wards required that of both warders. Of all the demons in the hotel, Charlie was the only one who possessed both in her veins. She let her claws grow and slashed one across her thumb.

“I hope this works …”

She drew her thumb around the edge of the window frame, leaving a red trail in her wake. Her blood was not an exact match. It might be too weak. This might do nothing.

The red magic across the glass shimmered and dissolved. Around the square she had drawn, the wards still held. She had created a small hole in the otherwise impenetrable barrier.

“It worked!” she cried in delight.

Another scream cleaved the air.

Charlie’s thighs thickened with muscle. Her knees began to reverse. Her shoulders broadened and fur sprouted from previously unused hair follicles. Her neck corded with strength that ran down her back, gathering around her shoulder-blades where new bones were beginning to extend. She ran at the window, lowered her horns and crashed through, leaping out into the night.

The air was warm and smelled heavily of gore. It whistled past her face as she plummeted. She let fire pool in her hands to unleash it on the unsuspecting Exterminator below. She would only get one surprise attack. She had to make it count.

The second Exterminator’s whole skull erupted in flames. It gave an electronic screech and grabbed at its head. The first Exterminator, still bleeding from its stomach wound, looked up and pointed at Charlie as she fell, trailing fire like a comet. She brought the fire around, superheating the air below her, so that when she snapped out her wings, she caught enough to cushion her landing. The moment her clawed feet touched down, she opened her palms and blasted both creatures with jets of flame far beyond what ordinary demons could produce. There were some perks to her elevated bloodline. The Exterminators became dancing, screaming silhouettes amidst the flames.

Charlie turned to the injured grey girl. “Come on. It’s not safe down here.”

“Wh-what?”

They would have been roughly the same height, had Charlie not been in full demon form. She let her features soften for a moment into something closer to her usual face. “I’m here to help but you have to trust me. Those things are trying to kill anyone they find out on the street. I’ll explain everything else later, I promise. For now, we have to go or we’ll both be exterminated!” She reached out and broke off the spear below the tip, leaving the metal embedded in the ground. If she took the shaft out, the girl might bleed out. Instead, she snapped off the top until only a short stub remained wedged in her leg, stanching the wound.

The grey demon made a mewling noise of pain when Charlie picked her up but she did not fight it. Maybe she trusted the only creature not trying to kill her right now. Or maybe she was just too injured and exhausted to fight back anymore. Her form was still too new to have much strength and she had probably depleted whatever she did possess. Charlie beat her mismatching wings and lifted off, intending to head back to her room and reseal the hole in the window with them safely inside.

That plan was scuppered when several dark shapes darted out of the sky.

“Shit!” Charlie banked left, flying perpendicular to the building. A spear thudded into the brickwork behind her. She banked right. Another spear just missed her. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

More Exterminators dropped out of the sky. She braced her feet against the building and pushed off, using the extra momentum to get past one already reaching for them. Claws hitched in her hair, pulling out a chunk. The ends came away bloody. Taking a chance, Charlie inhaled and rolled as she flew, releasing a gust of fire breath back at their pursuers. One Exterminator caught it full in the face. It scratched at its melting mask, coating its claws in molten glass. She did not have time to focus on what was revealed beneath but caught a glance of something that glowed so startlingly white that her skull ached from just that glimpse.

Up was bad. Up had the rest of the circling flock. Around were flying assassins. Down was the only option.

She folded her wings and fell like a rock. The demon girl in her arms shrieked. Just as they were about to hit, Charlie unfurled her wings and scooped air, turning a freefall into a turn so sharp it was nearly a right angle. They whipped along the street, kicking up trash and dead bodies in their wake. For a moment, she though maybe they could actually get away.

A larger than average Exterminator appeared in front of them, moving so fast it was a blur. They crashed into it at top speed. The Exterminator did not budge an inch but both Charlie and the grey demon ratcheted off its body into a parked van. Charlie held the other girl close, allowing her own spine to take the brunt of the impact. It knocked the breath out of her. She sank to her knees, gulping without getting any air.

The Exterminator walked towards them. Others approached in flight and on foot. It summoned a spear, also larger than average, hefted it and aimed.

Charlie threw out a spray of flame from one hand, her other cradling the grey girl. The big Exterminator spun its spear in a circle, twirling it so fast that it blurred into something approaching a shield. The flames glanced off harmlessly. She tried again, adding fire breath, with the same result.

This had gone wrong. This had gone so, so badly wrong.

Desperate times …

She had never tried it before. It was nothing more than theory, born from hours poring over the nature of her powers and hearing stories of centuries ago when demons still went up to the surface to cause chaos and trigger good behaviour in humans. It might not even work in Hell itself. Nonetheless, theory was better than sitting there waiting to have their bodies stabbed and their souls exterminated.

Charlie placed her palm against the asphalt and closed her eyes. She concentrated, reaching deep inside her, seeking out the core of her demon magic. It pulsed against her touch like a purring cat. She sent it out, along her fingers and down, deep into the ground, seeking heat. When her magic yowled into her brain of its success, she called it back up, letting the heat chase her own flames.

Around her, the street cracked and vomited lava. Geysers of thick orange fluid and steaming rocks shot into the air, taking the Exterminators by surprise. A few fell, writhing in pain. The large one took a few steps back as the ground cracked opened between it and the two girls.

Charlie let go of the grey demon. “R … run,” she coughed. “Limp. Whatever. Get away! Hide! Find somewhere indoors if possible. I’ll hold them off. Hide until the clock strikes 5pm. That’s when they leave.”

“What?” the girl echoed.

“Just do it!” Charlie set her on her feet and got unsteadily to her own, using her bat wing for balance. Her feathered one was unresponsive. Either it was broken or she had used too much energy. “For fuck’s sake, run!” Pulling up the lava had taken nearly everything she had but she was determined to see this through. This would not be yet another thing she failed at like so many others.

Charlie pooled flames in her hands and charged the big Exterminator. She leapt at its throat, claws fully lengthened and gleaming with hellfire.

It slashed her out of the air in one swipe.

She tumbled to the ground, belly burning with a different kind of heat. Neither fur nor camisole were any protection against an Exterminator’s weaponry. She pressed a hand to her midriff, holding in the rope of intestine trying to slip free. A pained groan worked it way up her throat. The fire in her palms died.

The Exterminator advanced on her.

At least, it did until something small and sharp bounced off its cheek. It stopped and turned to look.

“Hey, ugly! Leave her alone!”

Charlie looked at the little throwing stars that had rebounded to land next to her. The grey girl stood in a wobbly fighting stance in the middle of the street, blood streaming from the spear shaft still sticking out of her leg. Either she had not run or she had come back. She glared at the Exterminator. Her hands glowed and she hurled what looked like a harpoon at its middle, clearly trying to replicate the hit she had landed before. It did not work nearly so well this time.

The big Exterminator rushed her so fast she had no time to counter. It swept out a leg, foot landing perfectly in her stomach. She lifted her into the air, where she seemed to hang for a moment in shock. Then it punched her back to the ground, raised a foot and stamped hard on her legs. She screamed. Bones snapped. The broken spear shaft splintered, bursting her calf open. Muscle and tendon flopped against the ground. Pieces of white and red bone speckled the asphalt. The Exterminator raised its foot again.

“No!”

Charlie’s fire licked uselessly at its side but she was too drained and in too much pain to do any real damage. The Exterminator used the tip of its foot to flick the grey demon at her like a missile. They landed in a tangled heap of broken limbs and seeping blood. Charlie tried to sit up but her stomach muscles refused to co-operate. The grey girl moaned. One of her eyeballs had ruptured in a broken socket, leaking aqueous fluid and blood over her crushed cheekbone.

The big Exterminator stomped over and raised its spear.

I’m going to die, Charlie thought dully. I’m going to die in the street with a demon I don’t even know.

Suddenly it did not matter that she was two hundred years old. She was once more a child who just wanted her mom and dad.

Which was when the sky above them detonated with light.

A column of iridescence, so bright it seemed almost blue, swallowed the big Exterminator. There was not even time for it to scream. When the light faded, it was nothing but ash.

Charlie gaped. So did the surrounding Exterminators. All of them turned their identical LED faces skywards. A moment of absolute silence consumed everyone and everything, until it felt to Charlie like she was trapped into another of the Radio Demon’s time spells.

A gust of wind presaged a figure landing gracefully where the incinerated Exterminator had recently stood. The effect of her presence was immediate. The remaining Exterminators drew back, summoning spears to brandish defensively. The newcomer stood tall, crowned by four horns that spiralled to the middle of her back in deadly points, where they were framed by enormous bat-like wings whose membranes writhed as if made of living black smoke. She spoke though a mouth stuffed with fangs.

“Vos scitis, foedus inter Caelum et Infernum. In commutationem pro decerpendo de nocte, ut quidam termini inter Deum.”

Charlie stared. “M-Mom?”

Lilith did not turn but did extended a wing in her direction. In that same abnormal rumbling voice, she continued, “Ego sum regina Lamia, primum mulierem Deo creata, quae est mater in me monstra quia non subiicient lapidibus pretiosis Deus Adam. Hic puer meus. Vobisque notum est nocere eis sanguinis mei. Set haec scripta sunt in ipsorum foedere inter Deum et lucifer usque ad finem belli Caelest. Ab angelis habere tenere tractatum iri parendi initio usque ad finem.”

The Exterminators looked at each other. At the sound of wings they looked up again.

Charlie had only seen her father in his true form a handful of times. Each time was burned into her memory. Yet she knew this moment would eclipse all the rest. Watching him descend on six massive, feathery white wings, surrounded by undulating orbs of liquid gold magic, he looked like something from a dream. Unlike Lilith, his features remained the same but his eyes were pure gold and gleamed with so much power it was like the heavy pressure of a storm about to break. When he spoke, his voice was beautiful, resonant and seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“Relinquam. Noli respicere. Find alia praeda. Ego Luciferius rex inferos. Vos scitis angeli me. Vos scitis quod factum qui de birlo cecidit ex Caelo Deus ante saecula. Tu scis quod ne timeant me. Vos nocere puer meus. Quod si vos non discedere, et perdere et iterum dico vobis quia omni fere destrui Dei.”

Charlie did not understand a word but the Exterminators apparently did. They looked at each other again, diodes fizzling in their masks.

Eventually one pointed with a spear. “An utrumque puellis tuis?” it asked in a voice like rending metal.

“Hic est sanguis meus a puero. Hic puer est mihi in vobis per sanguinem effuderit.”

“Inito foedere pollicitus est quod non modo affirmat ipsum colligunt tua Rex Lucifer. Quia non potes servare virginem a nobis. Non est tua.”

Charlie may not have understood the language but she understood the meaning. The Exterminators still wanted the grey demon. Instinctively, Charlie wrapped a protective arm around her. Her mother’s gaze flicked in their direction and narrowed.

“Ex hoc ego, et domus mea est haec puella itaque sub meo praesidio,” Lucifer intoned. “Haec puella filiae nostrae. Hoc est enim virginem filiam nostram similem esse tractata. Vos autem nolite nocere aut eorum. Quod si feceris, me dius fidius ego sileo bellum in Caelo.”

“Noli provocare: illius mortiferis. Et erit, si ceciderit primi ad inferos bella cum Caelo. Et mittet te in occursum tuum, Deus pugnare diu ante mortem aeternam et se ipsum perspicere debemus.” Lilith flicked her forked tongue at them and bared her teeth with an unearthly growl. “Est altera, inquit facillimus pro vobis ad fugandum in hac nocte, qui non est reus erit vobis ira Dei sprevit et foedus.”

The Exterminators looked from Lilith to Lucifer. He nodded, apparently backing up whatever she had just threatened. Impossibly, the Exterminators began to back away. They kept their eyes on the King and Queen but it was clear the battle was over.

Charlie’s shoulders slumped. Her vision swam. She was aware of her mother crouching down but not of her walking over. She registered her father’s touch against her forehead but could not make out what he was saying without effort.

“Silly girl. What a rebel you are. You sure do take after your old man.”

“Mom … Dad … I … I’m sorry … I didn’t … m-mean to …”

Darkness folded around her and she knew no more.

The tolling of the clocktower welcomed Charlie back into the waking world. Her eyelids fluttered. She tried to sit up and found herself pressed back down by a gentle but strong hand on her shoulder.

“Not quite done yet, chérie.”

“Mrrf. What …?”

“Allongez-vous,” the voice insisted. “Vos majestés! She is awake!”

Firm footsteps. An exhalation that might have been a relieved sigh. It was difficult to tell through the pounding in her head. She felt like she had been put in a tumble dryer with a pile of rocks.

“Charlotte?”

She cracked open her eyes, wincing at the stabbing pain from overhead lights. “Mom?”

“How are you feeling?”

“On a scale from one to ten? Negative eleven.”

“Quelle exagération!” exclaimed the unknown speaker. “My healing has taken her to at least a six out of ten!”

Lilith sighed. “Thank you, Guérisseuse. If you could give us a few minutes?”

“Ten minutes only. I am not yet done, ma reine.” The other demon bowed at a stubby waist that ended with the body and four legs of a goat. She was short and squat, almost square-shouldered, with tusks jutting out of a leonine face. Nothing but a few scraps of cloth strapped down her meagre chest but she gave off an air of competency that created a metaphorical white lab coat around her. She trotted away amiably, mumbling about a candy machine and lots of replenishing chocolate.

Lilith sat on the edge of Charlie’s bed. Neither said anything for a long moment.

“Am I in the hospital?” Charlie asked at last.

“No. This is the hotel infirmary. We brought you here for the rest of the Cleanse. We couldn’t leave everyone inside vulnerable with a hole in the wards.”

Charlie wished the ground would open and swallow her. “Sorry about that.”

“You broke a hole in the wards. I didn’t even know you could do that. Not to our wards.”

“I took a chance on my blood being a blend of both of yours enough to work. If it helps, I’ve never tried it before.”

“It doesn’t.” Lilith paused. “Why did you do it?”

“I …” Charlie struggled for the words. “I saw that girl manifest on the sidewalk. She’s a new soul. The Exterminators were going to rip her apart before her body was even a few minutes old. I … I couldn’t let that happen.”

“So instead you broken open the hotel wards and put every other demon inside the hotel at risk from them?”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. It was impulsive. Thoughtless. Irresponsible.”

“A mistake.”

“No.” Charlie shocked even herself at the quickness of her response. “Not a mistake. Unless …” She tried to sit up. “Did she die?”

Lilith pushed her back down but not before she caught a glimpse of a pale grey body in the bed next to hers. The other girl looked far worse than Charlie felt. She assumed the healer had been told to focus on the princess first.

“No, she did not die,” said Lilith. “Thanks to you. Guérisseuse says her injuries were severe. She will recover but … she has lost her left eye and will have extensive scarring on her legs. It could have been much worse. You were much more fortunate. Since you were in full demon form, you sustained less damage and Guérisseuse was able to repair all your wounds.” Lilith’s pale hands gripped her dress over her knees. “Including the … gut wound and the truly insane energy depletion. Magma, Charlie? Really?”

“Um … again, I wasn’t sure I could actually do that. I’d theorised but … never practised. It … seemed a natural progression from being able to call heat and fire out of the air.”

Lilith looked at her strangely, as if she did not recognise her. It was deeply unsettling. “Downtown will take a long time to fix. Your father already wants to rename Fang Street as Volcano Road but he would have to petition that to the other overlords and they are already apoplectic at the topographical changes.”

Charlie swallowed. “Is … is Dad mad too?”

“We are both absolutely furious with you.” Lilith’s knuckles blanched even further. “But also relieved that you are all right. You did a very stupid thing. A very, very stupid thing.”

“I know.” Charlie took a breath. “But I couldn’t not help her, Mom. It was … like a compulsion. I knew I had to save her.”

Lilith released her bunched dress and smoothed out the dark fabric. “Do you even know her name? Or anything about her?”

“Um … no. There wasn’t really time for that. How did you and Dad know where we were?”

“We felt the wards break. When we reached your room, we saw you flying away. Your father …”

“What?”

Lilith paused, then went on in a small voice Charlie had never heard from her before. “He would do anything to protect you, Charlotte. Even from yourself and your unnaturally soft heart.”

Charlie watched her mother’s averted face. Lilith looked almost sad. Charlie put a hand on her upper arm, making her jump. “I really am sorry, Mom. Honest.”

“I know you are.” Lilith hesitated before laying her own hand atop Charlie’s. “That just makes it worse. Sometimes … sometimes I genuinely just don’t understand you. You’re my daughter but you’re … almost nothing like me. You’re so … soft and … vulnerable. You make yourself vulnerable; your body, your feelings, your … everything. You feel everything so keenly. I don’t know where you get that from. Sometimes … you barely act like a demon at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered, voice choked with tears.

“Stop crying.” Lilith’s hand fell away. “Stop being so weak all the time. Every so often you fight back and I think there’s some hope for you: attacking Helsa Von Eldritch, holding your own against Exterminators, creating a fucking volcano in the middle of the street! But it never lasts.” She angrily squeezed her eyes shut. “It never lasts, Charlotte. And if you don’t toughen up, you won’t last. You don’t have any idea how much your father and I put on the line tonight to save you. But we won’t always be here to bail you out of the consequences of your own mistakes.”

A shard of ice lodged in Charlie’s chest. “What do you mean?”

“Politics are vicious. Someday a younger, stronger demon will come along and challenge your father and I and there’s no guarantee we will best them. The day that happens, you need to be able to take care of yourself.”

“Mom, that’s crazy talk –”

Lilith stood up, hands clenched at her sides. “Your father is sending up the signal that the Cleanse is over. He’ll need me to help him take down the wards. We repaired them after your … stunt. Wait here for Guérisseuse. Don’t go running off anywhere.” Without saying goodbye, she stalked out of the room.

Charlie brought her hands to her face and tried to force her tears back down. Her breath came in short, gulping huffs. Her chest felt like it was in a vice.

“Not to sound harsh or anything but your mom seems like a bitch.”

Her hands fell away. She turned her head to see the grey demon girl looking at her, half her head swathed in bandages. Now she had time to concentrate, Charlie could see that the visible eye – the only eye, she reminded herself – was large with a pale peach sclera and lashes so long they were more like feathers than hairs.

“You’re awake,” she said idiotically.

“Have been for a while. I was faking being asleep. It’s … been a lot to take in.” The other girl shrugged, an odd motion laying down. “You’ve been out for hours. I had a lot of missing info filled in.”

“So you know –”

“That I’m in Hell? Yeah. Gotta admit, that was both a surprise and not.”

“Huh?”

Another shrug. “My mom always said I’d end up here. She’s super Catholic. I was atheist. Guess I backed the wrong horse in that race.”

“You’re … you’re taking this remarkably well.”

“I am full of painkillers like you wouldn’t believe. Weird ones, too. That little goat woman made some pills appear in her hands. When they wear off, I’ll probably start screaming again.”

“Again?”

“Of course there was screaming. My soul got damned to Hell and within five minutes of arriving there were giant mechanical angel monsters trying to kill me over again and eat my soul or something and they completely fucked up my brand-new demon body.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess that makes sense. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The other girl raised a hand, studying her slim grey fingers as they moved to and fro. “On earth I was paraplegic. Couldn’t feel anything from the waist down. Also had such severe nerve damage in my hands I couldn’t use them. Got mixed up in gang stuff to help out my big brother. He wanted to make enough money to send me to college for a music degree. I wanted him to not get himself dead. Thought if I went with him, I could protect him. First job I went on turned bad. Rival gang shot me in the spine. Shot him in the head. Suddenly I couldn’t play piano anymore, couldn’t walk, couldn’t even wipe my own culo without help. My dad couldn’t handle it. Ran off and shacked up with some perra flaca in Sacramento. My mom went from having a family with a loving husband and two kids about to leave home to being a single mom to a cripple whose diapers she had to change because her job fired her for ‘familial connections to drug crime’ and we lost our health insurance.”

Charlie listened in silence.

The other girl clenched her flickering fingers into a tight fist, then released it. Tight first. Release. Tight fist. Release. “To say she was bitter would be … an understatement. I know my brother was her favourite. She told me enough times. ‘Why couldn’t you have died and he still be alive?’ ‘You’ve ruined my life.’ ‘I wish you were dead.’”

Tight fist. Release. Tight fist. Release. Tight fist. Release.

“Her new boyfriend? He liked girls who laid really, really still. Used to wait for her to go to the store and then come up to my room. He always smelled of gasoline for some reason. Sweat, too. I hated the smell. When I tried to tell her about it, he said I’d seduced him because I had no access to any other men and it wasn’t his fault. She forgave him. So, one day I started cheeking pills and … made her wish come true. Committed one last big mortal sin.” The girl shifted her gaze back to Charlie. “So yeah, there was screaming. And there will be more screaming. But in the grand scheme of things, I’m actually a lot better off now than I was. Funny, huh? Better off in Hell.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Fucking hell, what was in those fucking painkillers? I haven’t talked this much to anyone in … years. Amazing how few friends want to hang around when you can’t do anything anymore except lay in bed and shit your diaper.”

“That’s …” Charlie was lost for words. “That all sounds … so awful.”

The other girl shrugged again. “As Satre says, ‘l'enfer, c'est les autres’.” At Charlie’s blank look, she added, “Hell is other people.” She rested the back of one fist against her forehead and laughed at the ceiling. “Shit, I used to read Sartre. For fun! I used to do so much before my body got all fucked up and I was stuck in that fucking bed.” Her smile faded. “And here I am, stuck in another bed with legs that don’t work.”

“They’ll heal. Demon bodies aren’t as fragile as human bodies. Especially if a healer is involved. Especially one my parents would let work on me.”

“Yeah. Your parents.” The other girl whistled. “They sure are something.”

“They’re the King and Queen of Hell.”

“The actual fuck?”

“Really. I’m technically a princess.”

“Well … fuck me.” Her eye bugged. “Not like that! I mean you’re cute and all but … holy shit are these drugs, like, a truth serum or someshit? I’m never this loose-lipped.”

“Um, I don’t know?” Charlie’s cheeks felt warm.

“Fucking fuckety fuck, I got rescued by the Princess of Hell.” Her pupil shrank. “While I was naked and crying. Shit.”

“It’s not like royalty on earth. It’s … complicated. I can explain it some other time. Right now, it sounds like you’ve got enough to process.”

“So … what happens next then?”

“Quite honestly I don’t know. Usually when new souls manifest there’s a whole legal process. And paperwork.”

“Of course there’s paperwork in Hell. Of course. That makes absolute fucking sense.”

“I don’t know what’ll happen in your case though. You didn’t exactly manifest under ordinary circumstances.”

“She’ll recuperate with us,” said a voice from the doorway.

Charlie sat bolt upright and immediately regretted it. “Dad! What – ow!”

Lucifer ambled in, Guérisseuse at his side. The little healer demon immediately trotted to the grey girl’s side, checking the drip that fed into her arm. Guérisseuse rubbed her hands until they glowed red and put one to her face over her missing eye.

Lucifer plopped down on Charlie’s bed. “She’ll stay at the mansion until she’s fully healed. We have enough room and I doubt she eats much.” He cuts his eyes at the other girl. “Do you eat much?”

“I lived three years being spoon-fed cheap soup.”

“See?”

“Dad … are you sure?”

“I’m never sure of anything much, Petal, but I saw her refuse to leave you to be killed by an Exterminator even though she had no hope of defeating it and that bought her a lot of goodwill in my book.” He smiled toothily at the other girl. “My book used to be the Bible but a lot of my story ended up on the cutting room floor sometime in the Medieval period. Such a shame humans never found out my role in developing the early fiddle.”

The other girl stared at him. “Holy shit … you’re the devil. You’re Satan!”

He belly-laughed. “There’s no one devil here in Hell. I’m Lucifer, at your service. I believe you’ve met my wife, Lilith. Satan is my bum of a cousin but thankfully we don’t see him much these days unless he wants to borrow money.”

She continued to stare, open-mouthed.

“Yes, yes, my majesty is quite awe-inspiring, isn’t it? Or is my fly open again? No, no, it’s zippered, so it must be my majesty you’re gawking at.”

“Dad …”

Lucifer patted Charlie on top of her head like she was a kid who had brought home a gold skull on her homework. “We’ll discuss what happened tonight later, Petal, when you’re more recovered. There will have to be a family sit down on this one, I’m afraid. Your mother was quite vexed about having to leave the party so suddenly.”

Charlie winced.

“Although I’ll be honest, when she realised you were in trouble, I had trouble keeping up with her. I’ve never seen her fly so fast before. She was ready to go toe to toe with every single one of those Angels for hurting you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re more like me and your mother than she’d care to acknowledge. Once upon a time she was terrible at following the rules too. She followed her heart instead. That’s what scares her so much.” He gently dropped a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, openly affectionate in a way her mother never would be – or could be.

“Hey!” the grey girl exclaimed suddenly. She threw a punch that knocked Guérisseuse back a step. The thin sheet covering her fluttered where the healer had been reaching beneath it. “Ask next time or I’ll aim for your face next!”

“Besides, I have a feeling this young lady here will be a good influence on you, Charlie my girl. There’s something about her I like already. Quite possibly her demonstrated ability to not take shit from anyone.” He leaned towards her side of the room. “Now, my good lady, when new demons arrive in Hell they get new bodies, as you’ve been told, and they also get to choose whether to retain their old name from the mortal realm or choose a new one. What shall we call you by?”

She gawped. “I can … choose a new name?”

“Indeedly doodly.”

“Vagatha,” she said quickly. “I want to be called Vagatha. Vaggie for short.”

Lucifer’s smile crystallised. “Seriously?”

“It was my grandmother’s name. She didn’t take shit from anyone either. Uh, sir.”

A beat passed in which Charlie could feel her father straining not to make a joke. Instead, he got to his feet, pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen.

“Dad?”

He paused. “Yes, Petal?”

“I broke the wards. Everyone will know I broke them. You … you and Mom have to punish me. For appearances, if nothing else. The other overlords heard Manadjè say at the start of the evening that any demon who attempts to leave the hotel is to be punished. If you don’t punish me, it … it’ll reflect badly on you. You need to follow through so you and Mom don’t look soft.”

He smiled, though not with his usual grin. This smile was more subtle and a little sad, as if he recognised that she was growing up and was equal parts happy and sad at her coming to a new understanding of her role in demon society. “All right then.” He rubbed his chin, ostensibly deep in thought.

Charlie waited, trying to imagine what kind of punishment would make the other overlords not think of her parents as weak. An image of the Radio Demon’s face, eyes shining like fire-wreathed rubies, popped into her head. Her shoulders straightened. She could not let her parents seem weak in from of the other overlords.

“You’re grounded.”

She nearly fell off the bed. “Dad! That’s not a punishment!”

“It is. You’re grounded because your punishment is that you now have sole responsibility for … Vaggie here. Her entire future and safety here in Hell is now your duty, Charlie my girl. You will ensure she understands how things work around here, you will help her find her niche in Pentagram City, teach her about the other cities in Hell and how they work, eventually you will help her find a job and keep it and you will make sure she doesn’t fuck any of those things up. Or if she does, it’ll be your responsibility to clean up the mess.”

Charlie goggled at him.

He went back to tapping the phone and then put it to his ear. It connected as he walked out of the room. “Beloved, could you call the housekeeper and have her make up the room next to Charlie’s? And contact your tailor. We’re having a long-term guest come to stay and she has no clothes. Yes, I did go through with it. Who knows, maybe they’ll be friends. It’d be a nice turn up for the books …” His voice faded away down the hall.

Guérisseuse stood up. “Je ne suis pas assez payé pour cette merde.” Stiffly, she asked, “May I check your legs?”

“Just the legs this time.”

“Cherie, I am a medical professional! I would thank you not to accuse me of … of inappropriate fondling!”

“Wow … Hell is nothing like Mom said.”

“So, uh … Vaggie,” Charlie started. “I guess we’re going to be living together for a while.”

“I guess so. Gotta say, when I woke up this morning I thought the worst thing that would happen was my stomach maybe rupturing before my pain receptors switched off as I died. Boy, was I wrong.” Vaggie paused. “But all things considered, the day ended pretty well.”

“I’m Charlie, by the way. We should, uh, probably be on first name terms after all this.”

“Charlie? But your mom called you Charlotte.”

“I know.”

“Right. Do you shake hands in Hell?”

“Sure. But are you okay to … um … hang on a second.” Gingerly, Charlie eased herself off the bed and wobbled over, hand outstretched. “Better shake it fast, I’m actually not sure how long I can stay upright.”

Vaggie clasped her hand in a firm, if awkward shake. Her palm was pleasantly dry, though her skin very cold. “Nice to meet you, Princess Charlie. Thanks for saving my life. Uh, unlife. Am I alive or dead or something else?”

“Oh, no, just Charlie. I never use the title. Nice to meet you too, uh, Vaggie. And your new body is alive, just in Hell.”

“Right. Cool. I think. Wow these painkillers are good. You look positively angelic right now with the light behind you like that. Like your hair is made from spun gold. Tu boca se ve muy besable.” Vaggie’s grip tightened. “Shit, did I just say that out loud? Fuuuuck.”

Charlie smiled. “It’s fine. I don’t even understand what language you’re speaking anyway.”

“Bueno, gracias a Dios por eso. Verás, eres tan bonita y probablemente me avergonzaré mucho antes de que estos analgésicos desaparezcan.”

Charlie tilted her head. She was definitely going to need a translation app on her phone if they were going to be housemates for … however long this lasted. Probably just until Vaggie got acclimated to living in Hell and found her own niche in demon society.

“Tus ojos brillan como estrellas. Pareces una … linda y adorable chica … no un demonio.” Vaggie smiled goofily. “Hey, did you … put fresh drugs … in my …” Her eye slipped shut and her breathing evened out.

Guérisseuse stepped back from holding glowing hands against the drip. “She talks too much. Sleep is better for her injuries. You will have trouble with this one, I think. She is very strong willed. You will need to keep an eye on her.”

Trouble? Maybe, Charlie reflected. Or maybe not. And maybe it didn’t even matter. Some trouble was good trouble.

Something had changed within her tonight. She had not just sat back and let the Cleanse happen unopposed. She had done something active against an unjust system and, while it had not all turned out well, it had not all turned out badly either. A tiny sparkle effervesced in her chest. It took her a moment to realise what it was: hope.

Hope that things could get better.

Hope that maybe demons didn’t have to just accept the status quo.

Hope that maybe … she could make a friend after all.

Charlie smiled, allowed Guérisseuse to help her back to bed where she sank into a grateful, hopeful sleep.

Side-flings, Homages and Downright Rip-offs:

“Thank you, Úlfamaður.”

-- Úlfamaður is Icelandic for ‘Wolf Man’.

“Chin up! Chest out! Buttocks tight!”

-- One of Blanche Devereaux’s catchphrases from The Golden Girls.

Charlie recognised it as Manadjè Otèlla, manager of the hotel, who always acted as Master of Ceremonies at her mother’s parties.

-- Manadjè Otèlla is Haitian-Creole for Hotel Manager. His design is based on this image: http://www.chefjimmythomas.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/Demon_Kitten.jpg

“Chef Dhemit made yours specially since nobody else wanted a meatless option.”

-- Dhemit is Javanese for ‘demon’.

FOR THE RECORD, LUCIFER, LILITH AND THE EXTERMINATOR ANGELS ARE ALL SPEAKING A VERSION OF LATIN CALLED ‘DIVINE LATIN’, WHICH SOUNDS BETTER THAN ‘REGULAR LATIN WITH SLIGHTLY FUCKY GRAMMAR BECAUSE SCRIBBLER COULDN’T MAKE IT WORK ANY OTHER WAY’.

“Vos scitis, foedus inter Caelum et Infernum. In commutationem pro decerpendo de nocte, ut quidam termini inter Deum.”

-- “You know the treaty between Heaven and Hell. In exchange for one night of culling, God agreed to certain terms.”

“Ego sum regina Lamia, primum mulierem Deo creata, quae est mater in me monstra quia non subiicient lapidibus pretiosis Deus Adam. Hic puer meus. Vobisque notum est nocere eis sanguinis mei. Set haec scripta sunt in ipsorum foedere inter Deum et lucifer usque ad finem belli Caelest. Ab angelis habere tenere tractatum iri parendi initio usque ad finem.”

-- “I am Queen Lilith, the First Woman God created, who became the Mother of Monsters because I would not subjugate myself to God's precious Adam. This is my child. You are forbidden to harm those of my blood. This was written in the treaty set down between God and Lucifer at the end of the Celestial War. All angels have had to adhere to the treaty from very beginning and will continue to obey it until the very end of time.”

“Relinquam. Noli respicere. Find alia praeda. Ego Luciferius rex inferos. Vos scitis angeli me. Vos scitis quod factum qui de birlo cecidit ex Caelo Deus ante saecula. Tu scis quod ne timeant me. Vos nocere puer meus. Quod si vos non discedere, et perdere et iterum dico vobis quia omni fere destrui Dei.”

-- “Leave. Do not look back. Find other prey. I am Lucifer, King of Hell. You angels know me. You know it was I who nearly toppled God from Heaven centuries ago. You know that you should fear me. You have hurt my child. If you do not leave, I will destroy you all as I once nearly destroyed God.”

“An utrumque puellis tuis?”

-- “Are both of these girls your offpring?”

“Hic est sanguis meus a puero. Hic puer est mihi in vobis per sanguinem effuderit.”

-- “This one is my child by blood. This one is my child by the blood you spilled.”

“Inito foedere pollicitus est quod non modo affirmat ipsum colligunt tua Rex Lucifer. Quia non potes servare virginem a nobis. Non est tua.”

-- “The treaty only states that we cannot cull your family, King Lucifer. You cannot keep that girl from us. She is not your family.”

"Ex hoc ego, et domus mea est haec puella itaque sub meo praesidio."

-- “I hereby declare this girl as my family and therefore under my protection.”

“Haec puella filiae nostrae. Hoc est enim virginem filiam nostram similem esse tractata. Vos autem nolite nocere aut eorum. Quod si feceris, me dius fidius ego sileo bellum in Caelo.”

-- “This girl is our daughter. This girl is to be treated like our daughter. You will not hurt either of them. If you do, I swear I will restart the war with Heaven.”

“Noli provocare: illius mortiferis. Et erit, si ceciderit primi ad inferos bella cum Caelo. Et mittet te in occursum tuum, Deus pugnare diu ante mortem aeternam et se ipsum perspicere debemus.”

-- “Do not challenge us, Angels of Death. You will be the first to fall if Hell wars with Heaven. God will send you to fight and meet your eternal deaths long before he faces us Himself.”

“Est altera, inquit facillimus pro vobis ad fugandum in hac nocte, qui non est reus erit vobis ira Dei sprevit et foedus.”

-- “There is other, easier pray for you to hunt tonight that will not incur God's wrath upon you for breaking the treaty.”

“Allongez-vous. Vos majestés! She is awake!”

-- “Lie down. Your majesties! She is awake!”

“Quelle exagération!”

-- “What an exaggeration!”

… ma reine.

-- My queen.

“Since you were in full demon form, you sustained less damage and Guérisseuse was able to repair all your wounds.”

-- Guérisseuse is French for ‘healer’.

Culo

-- Butt.

Perra flaca

-- Skinny bitch.

“As Satre says, ‘l'enfer, c'est les autres’.”

--- Jean Paul Satre was one of the fathers of Existentialism and Phenomenology: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Paul_Sartre

“Je ne suis pas assez payé pour cette merde.”

-- “I'm not paid enough for this shit.”

“Tu boca se ve muy besable.”

-- Your mouth looks very kissable.

"Bueno, gracias a Dios por eso. Verás, eres tan bonita y probablemente me avergonzaré mucho antes de que estos analgésicos desaparezcan.”

-- "Well, thank fuck for that. You see, you are so pretty and I will probably embarrass myself a lot before these painkillers wear off."

“Tus ojos brillan como estrellas. Pareces una … linda y adorable chica … no un demonio.”

-- “Your eyes shine like stars. You look like a… cute and adorable girl… not a demon.”