Cam tried not to look surprised at the sight of his brindled wings, which were now equal parts white and gold. “You tell me,” he said as he swooped from the top of the scoreboard to hover next to Lucifer. It felt good to be in the air, to feel weightless, the wind surrounding him. “My hair, my waist, my wings. You’re the brilliant stylist, right?”
The bleachers creaked underneath Cam and Lucifer’s feet, and from somewhere, Cam heard a rustling, a whisper of fabric. Or maybe that was just the sound of Lucifer’s scaly wings folding back in upon themselves. Cam also drew his wings back, lest a pair of mortal eyes fall upon them.
“We are now in what I’ll call the third quarter,” Lucifer said, exhaling a cloud of black smoke. It spiraled through the air until it was hovering over the scoreboard, then it disappeared. The box designating football quarters lit up with the number three. “Let’s see how our teams are stacking up.”
Lucifer’s mouth twitched, and Cam realized the devil wasn’t sure how their game would play out, either. He’d brought Cam here to gauge the Away team’s confidence. Cam couldn’t allow Lucifer to see any weakness—any crack the devil spotted in his fa?ade would immediately become a target.
“Your first move was a strong one, I’ll admit,” Lucifer said. “Starting a band with Lilith: one point!” A numeral 1 appeared under the Away box on the scoreboard. Then he laughed. “Stealing her journal, followed by distributing those song lyrics? Definitely a point for moi.”
When the numeral 100 appeared under Home, Luc zipped out his wings, flew forward, and slapped the scoreboard a few times. “What’s wrong with this thing?”
He swooped back to the bleachers, and Cam watched his wings recede into his shoulders, noting the way they glittered darkly in the morning light.
“I cured her brother,” Cam said. “That’s worth more than anything you’ve tried to undo.”
“I will allow you that,” Luc said. Under Away, the number 1 became a 2. “But you also got old and flabby and bald, which everyone can agree is a big fat point for me.” The figure 200 appeared on the Home scoreboard.
Cam rolled his eyes. “If you haven’t noticed, Lilith doesn’t care how you manipulate my appearance.”
“It’s not that she doesn’t care!” Luc spat. “For some reason, she doesn’t see how your body is changing.”
Cam was confused. “You mean I’m ugly to everyone but Lilith?”
“Ding ding ding.” The scoreboard lit up a 3 under Away. Luc looked directly into the sun without squinting. “I don’t get it, either. I was sure that altering the way you look would disgust her, but—”
“It’s Lilith,” Cam said, realizing something for the first time. “She sees what’s inside of me, and even you can’t taint that.” He gazed down at himself, feeling more confident than he had in days. “I don’t know why it took losing my looks for me to realize that.” He nudged the devil. “You should give yourself an extra point for that.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Lucifer turned toward the scoreboard, which now read, Home: 300; Away: 3. Then he narrowed his eyes at Cam. “I can’t imagine why you’re so confident. You’re losing.”
“How do you figure?” Cam asked.
“For the first time in any of her lifetimes, Lilith is learning to enjoy her Hell,” Lucifer said. “She’s quit comparing her dreams to her reality.”
“She’s adapting, learning to survive,” Cam agreed. “She’s almost…”
He paused, thinking about the way Lilith had smiled at him the other day from across the cafeteria, and the sound of her voice yesterday when she’d sang along with Bruce at the arcade, and the look in her eyes when they’d toasted her winning lyrics with warm cups of root beer.
“…happy,” Cam finished.
“But a happy girl doesn’t need saving by someone like you,” Lucifer said with a snarl. “Face it, Cam: You need her to hate her life so that she can love you. Or else you lose the bet—and her.” Home rang up 2,000 on the scoreboard. The sound of the numbers changing so rapidly pinged like rain on a tin roof. “Yes, a Prom-night defeat is certain,” Lucifer said. “But then, it always was.”
“You’re wrong,” Cam said.
“Tell you what I’ll do.” Lucifer leaned close. The devil smelled like anise mixed with burning coal. Cam’s stomach turned. “I’ll let you off the hook.”
“What do you mean?” Cam asked.
“I’ll call off the bet. You can go back to moping around the middle reaches of the universe, never realizing your potential. I’ll go back to keeping everyone confused.”
In the devil’s red-rimmed eyes, Cam recognized something desperate.
“You think you’re going to lose,” Cam found himself saying.
Lucifer let out a burst of laughter that seemed to shake the ground beneath them.
“Why else would you offer to cancel our wager?” Cam asked.
His laughter ended abruptly. “Maybe what happened with Luce and Daniel changed me, too,” Lucifer growled. “Maybe I’m showing mercy to you. Disgusting as that sounds.”