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The thing is, I'm used to demons trying to kill me. It happens, it's nothing personal, it's just part of the War, right? They try to kill me, I try to kill them, and one or the other of us wakes up in Trauma a while later, unless something funny happens in the middle. I'm pretty good at this part, if I say so myself, and there's a lot of fun in using the abilities Dad gave me. I mean, anyone can behead a Balseraph, but when you do with a stop sign? That's satisfying.
What I'm not used to is them trying to recruit me.
Once I could pass off as a weird tactic to throw me off-guard. Two times, well, stranger coincidences have happened, I've made the same mistake twice myself. (Nomikos will tell you himself if you ask nicely, or more likely someone else will tell you about it, but I swear, I wasn't trying to set him on fire, not the first time or the second. These things happen.) On the third occurrence, it's starting to weird me out. So I stop with the fighting part (which has been entertaining up until now, but I start feeling a little uncomfortable if my opponent's not doing more than putting up a token defense), and while I'm not so stupid as to put down the spatula I've been using, I do say, "You're serious?"
The demon smiles at me hopefully, and gets up from the floor of the kitchen. From when I was tracking her earlier, I would have pegged her as a Habbalite, but she hasn't tried to throw any emotions at me yet, so I could have guessed wrong. "You'll find my Prince could make you a generous offer."
"See, this is the part where I'm confused. I can't imagine why any Prince would want to recruit me." I set to circling around her, because as long as we're talking I'm making sure she's right where I can see her. "It's not like I get along with demons, right?"
"Tangle with the Game a few times..." She shrugs, and her smile turns sweeter, in a way I don't trust. "You don't have to be an angel to dislike those tinpot dictators with their nasty sets of rules. If you came to work for us, you could do some serious damage to them."
"I'm not into the working for demons thing. It seems to end badly for people." Frequently on account of me, but the point's still valid.
"But we've been so impressed by your work!"
"...by what work?"
The demon giggles like a kid. "I'm sure there are plenty we haven't heard about, but reports of a few incidents did filter through to us. The part where you set a Malakite of Judgment on Fire."
"It was an accident!"
"Twice?"
"It was an accident the second time, too." I'm never going to live that down, am I? Even though I don't try to cook anymore, people keep bringing that up. It's an easy mistake to make.
"And then there was the Game Tether."
"That was an--okay, so it wasn't an accident. But I didn't realize it would all go up in flames. And it was a very weak Tether." I wave my spatula at her. "That's hardly indicative of any desire to switch sides. I'm happy in my job! I have nothing against authority figures. I like Judgment, and it's the Game's fault for harassing me if things tend to happen to them." Serious grudge against Asmodeus, let's see... "Theft?"
"No," says the demon, and laughs at that. "Better. Let me put it this way. My Prince thought that bit with the Tether was funny."
"I am not interested in working for Kobal."
"You're sure?"
"Very."
"Oh, fine." The demon throws her hands in the air. "Be that way. If you don't want to use your destructive little talent for something useful, go ahead and stick to playing with boring angels. But at least take my card, so that you can give us a call if you change your mind, okay?"
"Sure, if you insist."
She blinks a few times, but hands over a rectangular card that looks perfectly innocent, and which I am not going to touch under any circumstances until I've had someone look at it, because I may not be the brightest Wheel in Heaven, but I know better than to take presents from demons. I snap it into the air with the spatula, drop it onto the counter behind me with a quick flip, and return to a more aggressive stance. "Ready?"
"Ugh. If you insist. It's a cheap vessel anyway." She folds her arms, and sniffs. "But I think this is terribly unfair. You ought to be working with us. And being killed with a spatula is nothing but slapstick. It's downright Haagentian."
"Well, if it's going to upset you that much, I almost feel bad about it." I sit on the edge of the counter. "Tell you what. Indulge my urge for conversation for fifteen minutes, and I'll give you a thirty-second head start for the door at the end of it. Sound fair?"
"Perfectly," she says, and I can tell by her smile that she's ready to sway me to her side during that conversation. And I smile back at her because, honestly, do these people never figure this out? If there's anything I've learned from Lilim, it's to never offer someone a deal unless you're sure you'll come out ahead.
And I do like talking to demons.