I licked my lips, mind racing to think rationally. “Like I believe that. Killing me while I was unconscious wouldn’t be any fun. You’d want to do it while I was awake and screaming, right?”
His sadistic smile widened. “My, my. We are getting to know each other, aren’t we?”
“If you’re not going to kill me, then would you mind getting the hell out of my personal space?”
“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He tilted his head so that our lips were almost touching.
I took a deep breath, preparing to deck him if he dared kiss me. “No, I just hate that cologne you’re wearing. My ex-boyfriend used to wear it.”
Belial’s eyes widened like I’d surprised him. He stood to his full height, letting out another one of those creepy chuckles. “You really are an interesting girl.”
Now that I had my personal space back, the tension slid out of my rigid spine. I rested my feet on the floor. Whatever happened, I needed to be off this bed. It was clear that the demon had designs on my soul, but my body was a whole different issue. Better to play it safe. Or as safe as I could with a creature from Hell that wanted me to be his pet for all eternity.
“I aim to please,” I said. “Now get to the point. If you’re not going to kill me, what do you want?”
The smile remained intact, unnerving the hell out of me. He could give the Joker a run for his money with that thing. “The same thing I wanted before, my dear. Your soul.”
I glanced around the bare room. “I don’t see another spear lying around. How are you going to pull that off?”
“Persuasion.” To my surprise, he began unbuttoning his suit jacket, revealing a cobalt blue dress shirt beneath it.
I lifted an eyebrow. “No offense, but nudity is not going to win me over.”
Belial let out an amused snort after he tossed the jacket aside, rolling up the sleeves to the shirt. “As appealing as that sounds, that’s not what I’m going to do. I thought I’d give you a fair chance to fight for your soul. If you win, I’ll let you go. If I win, you agree to go through a ceremony that will bind us together for all eternity.”
There it was. He had a trap, a plan, and I’d played right into it by coming to this hospital.
I stood and crossed my arms underneath my chest. “Do you honestly expect me to believe a demon would keep his word? What makes you think I’d agree to something like this?”
“Because, dear Jordan, you are running out of time.” His voice made a cold and slimy feeling glide down my spine.
“What do you mean?”
“Right now, my associate Mulciber is torturing your sweet Michael with the weapons she stole from the museum. She intends to kill him. If you want any chance of saving him, you will play my game.”
All the blood rushed out of my face. I knew that name. Mulciber, the demon in Paradise Lost who had been responsible for building Pandemonium. The last time I’d seen Michael, he had walked off with Jacob to see Dr. Vulcan. Had that been Mulciber? At the very least, it explained her strange last name. Mulciber and Vulcan were both the name of a Roman god. Figures. An archdemon would compare herself to a god.
Belial smirked. “Do we have a deal?”
I answered him with a right cross, which struck him straight in his smug mouth. He rose to full height and touched the blood on the corner of his lips. He licked it away—a slow, intimate gesture that made me shiver. It was a silent threat, a violent promise, a precursor to something truly terrible.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I let a hateful smile form on my lips, trying to contain my rage enough to remember my self-defense lessons. “You like pain, right? Come a little closer and I’ll give you all you can handle, you son of a bitch.”
The demon nodded. “I sincerely hope you will.”
Belial had height, reach, and weight on me, so I knew there would be no point in attacking him first. I needed to use his body against him. That would be the only way I could beat him and get to Michael. Still, the longer we waited the closer, he came to death. The cold fingers of fear caressed my stomach, but I ignored them. I told myself he was an archangel who could handle himself.
Belial left his arms at his side and began to circle me. I kept my eyes on his posture, waiting for him to betray any kind of movement, and mirrored him to keep him in my line of sight. His left fist lashed out, aiming at my face. I parried it, forcing his arm downward and hitting him in the chin with the back of my fist. It hurt, but not nearly as bad as it would later, for both of us.
He rubbed the spot, amused. “Not bad.”