“Vincent?”
“Don’t be silly, Suzy Q. Aw, sure, at first I was a wee bit angry that you’d kept Vincent’s soul from me longer than necessary—I was sad because I made an extra effort to come and collect him personally. I don’t do it often—delegation is a must when overseeing my den of iniquity—but I happened to be in the area, and it’d been far too long since I’d collected a soul. Being a hands-on kind of guy, I figured I’d roll out the red carpet for Vincent. Imagine my dismay when I found you’d ruined my grand gesture. Naturally, because you did steal from me, I was obligated to do the whole dramatic display of typical deviltry that night. You know, the one where I roared threats about your loved ones while I lobbed fireballs and screeched in my scary, outdoor voice? What kind of evil ruler would I be if I didn’t? And look at what my crazy rant that night ended up doing to you—you have no human friends. No special someone to cuddle with while you eat grass and wheat germ. I took far greater pleasure knowing you’d turned into the Crazy Dog Lady all on your own than I ever could if I’d managed to expunge you that night personally. In fact, I was almost thankful it played out like it did, because it lightened my evil workload. You have no idea the pressure living up to a label like the Prince of Darkness has, honeybuns. But as for Vincent? You silly. I knew I’d have him back one day. It was just a matter of patience.”
All these years she’d lived with that ominous threat hanging over her head had been wasted energy. Quite frankly, that burned her butt. But Marcella was still pleading with her eyes, so she kept poking him with her imaginary stick. “Ah, then it was the souls. I stole souls from you and crossed them before you could get to them. Methinks you’re just a jealous weenie. Unattractive in a Hell lover, don’t you think?” she taunted, followed by a giggle that would surely turn hysterical if she didn’t figure out what in fuck Marcella was doing.
“I like you, Delaney. Nay—I’m enraptured by you. You’re saucccyyy,” he hissed the letter c. “I meant exactly what I said, cookie. I could give a rich man’s dick who you cross. Most of the souls you cross belong to weak, pathetic losers who’d spend all of their time crying and cowering on my turf—droll, very droll. Not one of them had a contract with me either. Except this one particular soul . . .”
He was toying with her, the fucktard. It was all about the game, and she’d just have to let him poke her back because she just didn’t get what Marcella wanted of her, and she needed time to figure it out. If she reached for that switch, Satan would fry her like so much chicken. Sweat trickled between her breasts and her mouth became so dry she almost couldn’t pry her tongue from the roof of it, but she persevered. “Really? Huh. And that was whose soul?” She forced herself to sound interested while her bladder squealed its protest.
Rocking back on his heels, he shoved his hands in his loose-fitting jeans and winked at her. “Remember how delighted you were to see Grease on Broadway two months ago? Spectacular show, by the way. You know, all those gushes and sighs because you finally got your cute backside out of the house and spent time with real live people instead of those slobbering creatures, with any number of ailments, you’ve befriended?”
“I do.”
“And do you remember what happened afterward when you used those backstage passes Miss Puerto Rico here so graciously gave you in honor of your friendship?”
Wee doggie—did she ever. There was nothing like crossing a diva actress who just didn’t want to exit stage left. What a goddamned hassle that’d been.
Talking.
It took a whole lot of talking, coaxing, begging, and pleading to get that lovely, albeit vacant of any reason, twit to see that you couldn’t just fix a broken neck, and really, you have to be more careful when you step on the slippery bathroom floor of your dressing room. The only place for her to go was up—and up she’d gone as Delaney beat feet out of that dressing room before anyone could see her. Harrowing indeed. “Yep. I crossed over the actress who played the lead role.” Just as that thought flitted through her memory, Delaney knew exactly what this was all about. She’d fucked up his plans again without even trying. Suh-weet.
“Yeahhhhhh,” he rasped. “Ya did. Tsk, tsk. Fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, well, Hell ensues.”