The next morning, I woke up from the most intense wet dream I’ve ever had. Yes, it was all about Isabella.

  I added an extra step to the morning routine and tossed the stained beddings aside. After a shower, I put on a fresh suit.

  Through the wall to Isabella’s chambers echoed snoring, so I went to look for Takezo.

  The door to his room gaped open. I peeked inside.

  He sat in the frame of a window, dressed in a suit, studying a rolled-out scroll. He raised his eyes and motioned for me to come in.

  “Morning,” I said, noticing a pile of rolled-up beddings by the wall. “You all right?”

  “Not really. My last night’s actions were so shameful that I should disembowel myself in seppuku. The samurai code would demand that.” He sighed. “But I’m also a filthy demon, so I guess I’ll allow myself to live.”

  I snorted. “We sure got played last night.”

  “And we loved every second of it. Worse, if she comes today that she wants to go to the party again, we will put on our best clothes and give her everything she wants to get another round. I heard that she once was the devil’s apprentice. I didn’t think much of it until last night.”

  That didn’t sound all that metaphorical. I walked to him, seeing that the scroll he studied was covered in Japanese handwriting. “Devil’s apprentice?”

  “Yeah. Rumor has it that she was once taught how to use magic by Lucifer himself. Apparently, he also taught her how to live, and she has taken the lesson to heart.”

  I leaned into the window, looking at the waking city ahead. It all looked so peaceful, fresh in the morning sea breeze. “What do you mean?”

  “Lucifer’s philosophy was that one’s own freedom surpasses all norms and rules. Isabella taking us, two young mages whose combined age doesn’t reach hers, and toying with us however she pleases, is perfectly in line with that philosophy, even though it would be immoral in every other value system.”

  “This got too philosophical for me. But what do we do about it?”

  “You do whatever you desire. I will stick around. She will eventually slip, and then I’ll fuck her until she forgets her own name.”

  That got a chuckle out of me. “A solution worthy of the greatest philosophers.”

  “They wouldn’t have shit for this anyway.” He motioned at the scroll he held. “These are the writings of Miyamoto Musashi. They contain some great breathing techniques and how to calm oneself down before a challenge.”

  “But there’s nothing in there on how to tame a bad bitch.”

  He burst into laughter. “You’re an idiot.” He threw the scroll aside. “But you’re right. It’s a philosophy for a simpler world. It’s actually the irony of philosophy. There are philosophers today who have a brilliant insight into how to navigate the current state of things, but by the time their works become legendary classics, the world will be different, and thus most of their work will be obsolete.”

  That made me pause for a moment. I understood his point, but I didn’t like it at all. There was no philosophical guidance on what to do. We had to figure it out ourselves.

  “But admittedly, Musashi’s philosophy and writings are perfectly valid for Kallisto. I studied the scroll to find how to properly issue and phrase a challenge.”

  “Do you think it can actually work?”

  “Yeah. It absolutely will. Kallisto isn’t your typical demon. I’ve heard quite a bit about her from the succubi and general gossip in Hell. She was born as an angel in heaven, and served in heaven’s armies as a warrior. She fell from grace because no matter how much she did, what she achieved, or who she surpassed, she never got even a hint of the opportunity to rise to the status of an archangel. So, she fell with Lucifer, and he made her the general of his armies, and his fourth wife. He’s gone now, but she is the same person she was back when she bore the cross in the ranks of Heaven’s armies. She will honor the rules of any challenge she accepts.”

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  I shrugged. “But why would she accept?”

  “Because she’s bored.” He got up from the window, heading to a cabinet. “It’s the reason she had built an arena, and why she fought us in the first place. She’s got nothing to do until her ship is repaired. A combat-based challenge from people that escaped from her is guaranteed to be accepted, and she will come alone so no one can steal the fun from her.”

  “How do we beat her? How do we deliver the challenge in the first place?”

  He pulled out a scroll from his cabinet. After he rolled it out, he took out writing supplies, a long-haired brush, and a vial of ink. He dipped the brush into the ink and started writing in symbols I didn’t understand. They didn’t look Japanese though.

  “What is that language?”

  “Infernal runes. She can read them, but Isabella and her people can’t.”

  Fair enough. That made sense, somewhat. He didn’t answer how we were going to win. He didn’t know. Neither did I, and frankly speaking, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t leaving Francesca’s soul to Kallisto, even if I had to go fight her alone. “Thanks for sticking with me. It means a lot.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not doing this for you. Eighty percent of my motivation is wanting to shag Isabella. Twenty percent is me wanting to test my limits against Kallisto, and you happen to be the perfect ally of convenience for that.”

  Ouch. That stung a bit. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are. But I’m not fighting Kallisto over friendship, and I’m not letting Isabella be, no matter what you think about it.”

  I laughed. Genuinely, all the way from the stomach. Yeah, that sounded fair. “How do you plan for it to work out with her? She ages, and you don’t, and she isn’t the youngest.”

  “That means nothing to me. The way she lives won’t allow her to reach an advanced age, anyway. With the list of murders she has under her name, she is bound for Hell. Once she dies, I’ll head there myself, guide her soul to the soul forge, where I’ll have Amestris use Isabella’s soul to make a demon out of her. Once we’re together as demons in Hell, our love will be eternal.”

  “That’s actually kind of romantic.”

  “You may laugh, but there are couples like this in Hell. The oldest ones are Trisha and Quintus. They met when the Roman Empire conquered today’s France. They got married, died, went to Hell, and now, two thousand years later, they are still married, still a couple, still together, and immortal as high demons of Lucifer.”

  Hmm. With the afterlife being known, life indeed didn’t necessarily end at death. I never gave it a thought, but seeing Takezo talk about it as if it were obvious really drove the point home. My life wasn’t necessarily going to end with my death.

  Just like Francesca’s didn’t. Her soul now belonged to Kallisto, and she could make a demon out of it, but she could also torture it for fun for the next few centuries. Or I could get the soul, and give her another shot at life.

  Takezo finished writing the scroll. He handed me the brush and pointed with his finger at a spot. “Sign here.”

  I bent down and did my best to sign myself with a long brush. The result didn’t look good, but it was my name.

  He rolled up the scroll and stuck it into a tube. He sealed it. Before he put it into his jacket’s inner pocket, he wrote a few infernal symbols on its face. “Now, we just need to figure out how to deliver it to her. Tossing it at one of her lieutenants would work, but not if we go kidnap him too.”

  Rhythmic clicking of heels on the floor echoed from the lobby. Ah, Takezo left the door open to hear her approach. He stood up from the table. I stepped aside.

  Isabella walked through the door. She wore her usual suit, shirt, cross, and a wicked smirk on her face. “Morning, boys.”

  “Morning,” we replied in unison.

  “So,” she said. “As much fun as last night was, we need to work today. Or at least you two need to work to earn another party with me. Come.”

  The trip to work was the same always, with me sitting in the shotgun seat and her driving, and yet completely different.

  Isabella looked and acted the same as always.

  But I had the memories of snorting cocaine from her thigh, of drinking shots from her belly button, and of her spending hours grinding against me burned into my mind.

  And as I watched her drive, my entire body twitched with the desire to do more of that. The reasonable part of my brain knew it wasn’t happening, not anytime soon, if ever, but the rest of my mind raced with ideas, one naughtier than the other.

  Takezo sat in the back, relaxed, sprawled over the seats as if nothing had happened.

  We drove to the depot behind the city, which was now even more fortified. Isabella’s agents built a small fortress out of it. They didn’t even try to mask it, with tall steel fences topped with razor wires, and large stay out signs.

  Isabella drove inside, killed the car in the center of the courtyard, and slid out of her seat.

  We also left. Takezo acted uninterested, but his gaze darted around. This was the first time he was here, so he was happy with the place… or looking for the best object to bend Isabella over.

  I wouldn’t bet on what was the case.

  We descended to the portal, where Simon awaited with my new gear. The usual extra-reinforced suit, repaired helmet, and newly issued pistols, a short-barrel shotgun, an assault rifle, a bunch of hand grenades, and a loaded backpack.

  A new structure also awaited us down here, a cage covered in arcane runes. The bars looked thick, the space inside sufficient for a larger human.

  “So,” Isabella said as she stood before the portal. “The plan is the same as the last time. You two go in, lay a trap for a high demon, bait it in, blow it up, and bring it to the portal. I’m not going through the portal again, so I’ll give you a barrel with blood that you need to pour over the captive.”

  I smiled. The last time she came in, without telling us, and she almost died. This time, she apparently planned to live. Good. “How much of my blood do you have?”

  “Enough for about five crossings. You bleed really well, actually.”

  That broadened my smile. It wasn’t supposed to, but it did. I dressed up in my outfit, and soon enough, Takezo and I walked through the portal.