The Art of the Deal
Author’s Note: This story was previously published in Aberrations Magazine #26 (Sirius Fiction, 1996). This was the very first short story that I sold for cash. It took me another couple of years to get started again, but i never forgot the feeling of that first sale.
“The Art of the Deal”
by Jason Andrew
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
“Invictus” by William Ernest Henley.
Miles the minor demon bought the soul of Johnny Dalton for the standard fee of fame and fortune. It was the worst deal he had ever made. “You have to help me, Detective. Please!”
Jacob Heller groaned and then folded his arms on his desk and rested his head. “Mr. Miles, I’ve had a really long day and it looks like I’m going to have a longer night. I really don’t have time for jokes. Did the guys on the squad send you?”
“Mr. Heller, I must insist that you take my plight seriously or I shall be very cross with you.”
Reluctantly, Heller raised his head and glanced at the self-proclaimed minor demon. He was a small, unassuming, balding man wearing thick glasses and a large red nose and looked more like an accountant with his ruffled, plaid suit. “Look guy, just this week, I’ve had three divorce cases, a child kidnapping, and I had to search through the sewers to find a missing champion dachshund.” He waved Miles away. “I’ve clocked eighty hours on the job this week and I can barely see straight. Tell Detective Monroe that they already kicked me off the force, they don’t need to rub it in.”
“I assure you, Mr. Heller, that I am in fact demonstrating a rare level of honesty in dealing with you. And a great deal of self-control.” His voice turned decidedly less friendly. “I may lose my patience with you, if you do not start taking me seriously.”
“Assuming that I believe that you are in fact a demon, even a minor demon, why would you want to break the deal?”
“With as much experience with the occult as you have, I am surprised that you cannot surmise the reason, Mr. Heller.” Miles blushed and removed his glasses. He wiped them on his stained tie while squinting at Heller. “Have you listened to the noise I loosely refer to as his music?”
“To be honest, I prefer classic rock. I don’t listen much to the radio.”
Miles slipped his glasses on his nose and then waved his arms frantically as though trying to hail a cab. “Dalton is setting music back ten centuries! He’s barely above beating sticks on a rock!”
“So just to make certain I understand you. You claim to be a minor demon from Hell. You purchased the soul of one Johnny Dalton for the price of fame and fortune.” Heller shrugged his shoulders. “And then when Mr. Dalton made a public fool out of himself and produced music that is offensive, even to minor demons, you decided to stop him out of the kindness of your heart?”
Embarrassed, Miles shuffled his feet. “Well, there is another reason,” he mumbled.
“And that is?”
The short man’s jowls quivered. “The other demons are mocking me endlessly.”
Heller laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Tears were swelling his eyes. “Seriously? This is your big problem. Demonic teasing?”
The temperature of the office dropped. Heller’s ears popped from the strange pressure in the air. The overhead light bulb flickered and then shattered. He ducked under the desk. Miles chuckled and loosened his tie. His forehead turned brimstone red and small snake-like veins pulsed on his neck. “I gave Dalton great power. He could have been bigger than Elvis, but he’s squandered it.”
“Squandered? How?”
Miles began to pace back and forth across the small office. It was a small office in the International District. The walls were covered with pictures of his brother, his army buddies, and framed Seattle Times coverage of his most famous case. The rest of the office was dedicated to file-cabinet space and book shelves. It wasn’t a fancy office, but the rent was cheap and Heller worked mostly out of the office. “Dalton could have made music that would have rocked the gates of Heaven. Instead he creates poor imitation of music that went out of style years ago. On his last album, every song had the word rock in it!”
With the bad economy and recent events, Heller had to let his gal Friday go with only a week’s severance pay. The money coming in would barely pay the rent. Things were tight, but Heller didn’t want to take money from a demon. “So?”
Miles slammed his fist upon Heller’s wooden desk. The blow echoed in the room, knocking off a book from the shelf. “So? He is making a laughing-stock out of me! This is intolerable!”
Heller reached under the desk for his pistol, which he always kept strapped to the bottom of his desk.
“Are you looking for this, Mr. Heller?” Miles produced Heller’s pistol from his pocket. “I’m afraid this weapon can’t hurt me?
“How did you do that?”
“I am a minor demon, as I have already explained.” Miles placed the pistol gingerly upon the desk and adjusted his glasses. “And I am trying to hire your services.”
“Why me? I’m not evil.”
“Of course not, Mr. Heller, I apologize for any implications.” His voice reminded Heller of an evil British butler, equal parts disdain and civility. “Out of all of the names in the phone book, yours was the most interesting. Besides, you did good work in Kent.”
“That’s not a topic I’m interesting in discussing. Especially with you.”
“I completely understand, Mr. Heller.” For a moment, Miles seemed almost sympathetic, almost human. “Back to the subject at hand, I need you to help me acquire the nefarious soul that I was originally sent to find.”
Heller shook his head. “I’m not about to help you damn someone’s soul.”
“Oh, no! I would never have you help me damn another mortal’s soul. That would be against the rules.” He wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. “I am after Johnny Dalton’s sister, whose soul is already damned. It was simply a mistake. John or Joan, sometimes it’s a terrible bother to keep track of you mortals. And quite frankly, you lack the funds to maintain your old-fashioned ideals.”
Heller sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
“All that you have to do is convince Joan to surrender her soul in exchange for her brother’s. I imagine she has felt incredible guilt for damning her brother to Hell for eternity.”
“If she’s evil why would she care about her brother?” Heller asked suspiciously.
“Even evil can love.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Why can’t you go and convince her?”
“Joan is an artist and to inspire her paintings she moved into a studio below an old church downtown.”
“You mean the Mission Baptist Church? The one that’s been turned into a shelter?”
“Indeed, Mr. Heller that is the one. A rather pious man lived in that studio doing good works for almost fifty years. In addition, every week for almost sixty years, the devout have entered that building and prayed. As a result, the entire church is considered holy ground,” the minor demon explained.
“And you can’t enter holy ground. . .”
“It is rather uncomfortable for one of my kind,” Miles admitted wryly. “Mr. Heller, I am only a minor demon due to my partial human heritage. My actual power is quite small and limited. It is for this reason that I can pierce the Great Barrier that protects your world from the Old Ones. To cross the Great Barrier, I have to agree to a certain code of conduct. I can not go upon holy ground because that would break the rules, which would invalidate my reason for being here.”
“So what do I get?”
“What do you want?” Miles asked, smiling like Monty Hall’s evil twin brother.
Heller grunted. “Hmm, not sure. What can I have?”
“I have the power to alter the mortal world in any fashion so long as it does not conflict with mortal free will or previous agreements.”
“So if I wanted to become Senator, I could?”
“Well that would conflict with a previous agreement we have with the current two Senators of this state. However, I understand that there is an opening in Alaska.”
“That’s okay, not interested in politics, just curious. By the way, how does fixing an election not interfere with free will?”
“Who says elections have anything to do with free will? How do you think the last president got elected?”
Annoyed, Heller gritted his teeth. “The United States is a representative democracy. As far as I have ever known, voters decide who wins an election. That would seem to me to fall under free will.”
“True, but in the United States the candidate with the higher campaign budget wins an average of ninety-three percent of the time. And in case you were wondering the current crop of advertising executives, public relations officers, and lawyers were specially trained by our recruitment department. Heh! Heh! Their latest brain child is political correctness.”
“You guys invented PC?”
Miles grinned devilishly. “Of course, we’re not evil anymore just behaviorally challenged. Heh! Heh! Change the name and you change the attitudes.”
“What about Dalton? He’s not going to give up his fame and fortune, is he?”
“He has already started making inquiries into the matter. He believes that he could continue his career without demonic support.”
“Can he?”
“Does it really matter?”
Heller thought about it and shook his head. “I suppose not. So let me see if I understand the deal. If I help you convince Joan Dalton to exchange her soul for her brother’s, you will grant me a single wish.”
Miles nodded. “The wish has the limitation of not diminishing mortal free will or the logically impossible.”
“Logically impossible?”
“For example, I can not make a round square. In addition, we suggest that you keep quiet about your dealing with me since most humans would frown upon it.”
Heller frowned skeptically. “And this won’t in any way damn my soul?”
“That depends on your point of view. Some would believe that even talking with me would damn your soul.” Miles shrugged his shoulders. “However neither I, nor any other demon, would have dominion over your soul.”
“It sounds too good to be true. Why is Joan so important?”
“She is relatively unimportant. Like I said before, the other demons are laughing at me. Imagine this. You have the power to fulfill almost any wish. What would matter to you? Status among other demons, of course. Each moment that fool is prancing about on the stage, I’m losing points. At this rate, I’ll never catch up to my sister.
Heller smiled. The key to any negotiation is to know the motivation of your customers. “I’ll do it.”
* * * *
The decaying, grey church appeared surreal against the monorail, the mall, and the vast urban skyline. Cautiously, Heller held his pistol tightly under his leather jacket. If Joan was evil enough to warrant a demon chasing after her soul, then he had to be prepared. Feeling like a condemned prisoner walking to the electric chair, Heller marched to the door and reluctantly banged on it. Wiping the sweat from his face, Heller waited a few minutes before the door opened.
Covered with grime and dried paint, Joan Dalton jerked the ancient wooden door open. “What do you want?” She growled.
Heller smiled. “Hi. My name is Jacob Heller, and I’d like to talk to you about your brother.”
“Look, I’m not giving interviews for the press, OK? So why don’t you go and. . . .”
“I am not from the press.” Heller interrupted. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “I am here representing Miles.”
Joan’s eyes widened. She held up her hands fearfully and stepped back onto holy ground. Heller didn’t follow her. “Look, I know I look like a hairless ape, but despite my looks, I am not a demon, or connected to them in any other way, other than as a messenger.”
Joan swallowed nervously. “You have a message for me?”
“Miles is offering a trade; your soul for your brother’s.”
“My soul? Why would he want my soul?”
“He said that your soul was the one he was after and that you caused him to take your brother instead.”
“What? That’s not true!” Joan barked. Her cheeks flushed. Heller noted that it was not an unattractive look for her. “He’s trying to trick me to surrender my soul to save his sorry ass!”
“According to Miles, your soul is the corrupted one.”
Joan was a woman unaccustomed to crying. It was especially difficult for her to cry in front of others. The tears swelled in her eyes. “After everything I’ve done, I’m still the corrupted one? Johnny can go hog-wild every night doing things that would make a demon blush and I’m still the bad seed!”
“Is there someplace we can sit and talk?” Heller asked, gently. “Maybe if you tell me what’s going on, I can find a way around this for the both of us. I know from experience that this won’t just go away.””
Joan sniffed and let out a gallows’s laugh. “You think you can outsmart a demon? Do you even know what he is?”
Heller sighed. “I know it might be difficult to believe, but I’m one of the good guys. My family has a curse. We always find ourselves caught up in this sort of thing. Demons aren’t unbeatable. Sure, they’re immortal and powerful, but also lazy and greedy. And, I know I look like a mook, but I think I can give him a run for his money.”
Joan was short, maybe five feet three inches on a bad hair day. She had to crane her neck upwards to look Heller in the eyes. He noted the dark circles under her green eyes. “Sorry, I wasn’t making fun of you, but Miles is a thousand years old. He’s supposed to be one of the smartest of the minor demons ever. No one has ever beaten him.”
Heller smiled, uneasy. “That doesn’t mean we can’t try. He wouldn’t be using me unless he was desperate. A guy like him must have flunkies. We just need to figure out why he isn’t using them. ”
Joan smiled; it quickly softened her gruff appearance. “You actually want to help me, don’t you?”
“Well, I certainly don’t plan on turning you over to him. I just played along until I could figure out his angle.”
“I don’t know why I trust you, but I do.”
“Let’s just say that I’ve been screwed by the occult just as much as you have.”
“Fair enough. Do you want to come inside?”
Heller nodded. “That’d be nice.”
Joan allowed Heller inside, slammed the door, and then turned all five of the locks and bolted the door. “Take off your coat. Have a seat.”
Heller slipped out of his trench coat and Joan hung it on a hook. “You can take off the leather gloves. I won’t tell.”
Heller bit his lip. “I can’t. It’s better to leave them on. I had an accident.” He took a few steps and concentrated on Joan’s problem. “Okay. As I see it, this is the situation. A minor demon waltzed into my office and offered to hire me, because he can’t walk on holy ground. For some reason, his deal went badly with your brother. He said the other demons were making fun of him, but I don’t buy that.”
“Actually according to my research, demons thrive on an internal status game with each other.” Joan seemed unflappable discussing the fate of her soul. “Think of Hell as being akin to going to high school for eternity.”
“How did you and your brother get involved with all of this?”
“Five years ago, I went to go pick up Johnny from a party out in Bremerton. It was late, out in the boonies, and plenty of booze for everyone. I hit the party to tell Johnny it was time to go home before the old man freaked. While I was there, I had a drink. Just one, but one of his lowlife friends was trying to get into my pants so it was really strong.”
“What happened?”
Joan sniffed and shut her eyes. “Nothing. I had about half of it while Johnny finished up with a girl upstairs and then left. The highway from Bremerton has a lot of curves and weird turns. I’ve been up and down that highway a hundred times. I thought I could drive it blindfolded.”
“What happened?”
“There was an accident. I don’t remember much of what happened. Maybe I didn’t want to remember. The police told me that I didn’t make one of the turns. I hit a car. Killed a man and his two little girls. I tried to pull one of them from the car. I remember the pink dress. That little pink dress.”
Heller didn’t have a witty reply so he stayed silent. “The cops gave me a blood test and I was under the legal limit, just barely. The family I killed didn’t have anyone to sue or throw a fit so when my old man applied the right pressure, it was all swept under the rug and I lost my license because I was a minor.”
“You must have felt awful.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I kept wondering if there was something I could do. I kept dreaming about a man. Bald guy with glasses and a big nose.”
“Miles, right?”
Joan nodded. “He asked me if I wanted that family back. I said yes, and then he started asking me what I would give. That’s when I started getting worried.”
“Yeah, never trust someone that gives you a line like that. Man or demon.”
“He came night after night and made me curious. He finally admitted that he was a minor demon and so I started researching him.”
“How did you find information on him?”
“E-bay,” Joan answered with a smile. “You’d be surprised what sort of books you can find on there. I found mention of Miles in one of the books and started to realize that it was the same demon. I think maybe he wanted me to learn about him.”
“He seemed arrogant enough to want you to know about the trap before you walked into it.” Heller stopped pacing and knelt next to Joan. “You did the right thing. Besides, he can only bring back the bodies of the dead. The souls move on. What happened next?”
“My brother must have snuck into my room to steal a bit of cash. He was always sneaking into his big sister’s room. I hid the books in plain sight, knowing my old man would never look at them. Johnny found the one with the summoning spell and then the rest is history.”
“It sounds like Johnny has always just been bait for you,” Heller theorized. “But why? You don’t seem like a bad person, just someone that made a mistake. We all make mistakes.”
“You ever made a mistake that killed someone?” Joan said sharply.
“Yes. It wasn’t pretty. It still eats me up. Haven’t had a good night’s sleep in years.”
“That why you aren’t afraid?”
Heller’s face drooped with failure. “Someone was harming a boy in Kent. He was just thirteen. The police thought the parents were hitting him. The parents were afraid; they didn’t know what was going on. Turned out the boy was possessed. I didn’t believe him when he told me.” Heller unconsciously tugged on his gloves. “It turned out that a demon had possessed the boy and was trying to complete some sort of voodoo ritual to get more of its friends into the material world.”
“What happened?”
His face twitched with the memory. “I killed him.”
Joan gasped. “Why?”
“He was going to kill his baby sister with a razor blade and so I killed him. The parents and the police never found out why the kids went crazy, but I did. If I had believed him, I could have saved him.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Joan protested.
“That’s just it,” Heller admitted. “I did know. I knew he was telling the truth, but I just didn’t believe him. The kid paid the price. It’s why I have these gloves.”
“I was wondering why you were still wearing them,” said Joan.
Heller slipped off the gloves revealing a pair of burnt skeletal hands. “The demon set a fire. I had to put it out with my hands or the girl would have died.”
Joan gently put her soft hand on Heller’s scarred hand. It felt like touching sandpaper. “Can you still use it?”
“My left hand is still a little twitchy. Nerve damage. I can’t afford skin grafts.”
“Wow, I guess it sucks to be us, but you did the best you could.” Joan put her hand on his. Since leaving the hospital, no other human had ever touched him there. “The world is as it is. The best we can do is try to make it a little better. We’ll figure out what to do.”
Heller grinned. “I like the underdog, I suppose.”
Joan hugged Heller close. She was still crying, but this time she felt better. Heller wasn’t used to physical displays of affection so he was still for a moment, unsure of what to do.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“Well, let’s think about this a bit. We need to figure out what it is that Miles really wants. From the sound of it, your soul would garner a lot of prestigious points for him. Why?”
Joan shrugged her shoulders. “I’m nothing really special.”
“What do you do?” Heller inquired.
“The old man left us a lot of cash when he died,” Joan explained, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t really work. I paint a little bit.”
For the first time, the detective glanced around the studio. There were painted canvases scattered across the room, mixed with various pieces of clothing, a prodigious collection of shoes, and junk food wrappers. “I haven’t had time to clean.”
Heller ignored her. The paintings were thoughtful and frightening for their unflinching look at humanity, sin, and evil. A couple of them featured Miles tempting the innocent. “These are quite good. . .I mean these are painted well,” Heller said, awed.
Joan blushed. “I’ve been a little obsessive about demons since Miles decided to grace me with his presence.”
Heller slipped on his gloves and then scratched his chin. “These paintings could scare the Hell out of Satan.”
Joan’s smile turned crooked. “My agent said they give her nightmares. It was supposed to be a compliment.”
“Miles seemed to be very interested in the quality of the arts. I wonder if Miles is after these paintings.”
Joan rubbed her eyes. “Why would he? I can’t even seem to sell one of these.”
Heller thought about it for a few moments. Why would Miles care so much about Joan? “I don’t know. He suggested that I not talk about demons. Perhaps that is against their plans or something.”
Joan shook her head. “I didn’t start painting them until after he started bothering me.
Heller grinned wryly. “Maybe he just thinks you’re cute or something.”
Joan frowned. “Let’s hope not. So what is his deal with you?”
“As I understand it, if I provide your soul to Miles, I’ll get a free wish that can be anything as long as it does not restrict anyone’s free will or do the logically impossible. Of course, if I take him up on that, I’ll likely get a free pass to eternal damnation.”
“That doesn’t help me much.”
“Maybe, but it never hurts to have all of the information laid out before us. When I’m on a case, I always make a list of the available information. Sometimes, the answer is right in front of me only I can’t see the forest for the trees.”
“This isn’t a case. This is my life!”
“I know. Believe me I know. If there is anything I can do to help you, I will.”
“All I wanted to do was paint and maybe get famous after I died or went senile.”
Heller grinned. “You’re a little young to get senile. You strike me as a little loopy maybe.” He poked her shoulder gently. “Certainly deranged.”
Joan rolled her eyes. “I’m losing parts of my mind. The doctors say it’s a weird form of MS. It’s the closest thing I have to a family heirloom. I don’t have much longer before it starts really affecting me.”
Heller extended his arm around Joan. “Well, we don’t have to resolve it tonight. Time’s on your side. And as long as you stay inside, you’re protected. It’ll be ok.”
“You promise?”
Heller didn’t like making promises. He was never certain that he’d be able to live up to the ideal. “You’ll be ok. Promise. For now, I’m starving? Want to order take out?”
* * * *
“Mr. Heller, it has been almost three weeks and you’ve visited her every night without success!”
Heller turned over in his bed and covered his face with the blanket. “Miles, I’m sleeping. Come back during business hours and not when I’m sleeping or in the bathroom.”
“I’m afraid that I’m on a timeline, Mr. Heller, and if you can’t get the job done I shall have to find another outside contractor. I shutter to think how violent such a contractor might be.”
“Miles, I’m working on it. Getting someone to give away her soul isn’t easy.”
The minor demon nodded sympathetically. “I can very much empathize, Mr. Heller. But Hell waits for no man. And, I suspect that you’ve begun to develop feelings for Ms. Dalton, which simply won’t do.”
Heller groaned. “Alright. I’ll go back and see what I can do.”
“If you can not complete the deal by morning, I shall seek representation elsewhere.”
* * * *
“So what now?”
Heller couldn’t look Joan in the eyes. “I don’t know. He’s not going to stop. I can’t bind him. And you can’t stay here forever. There are only two ways to beat a minor demon. You can kill them with a holy relic or trick him using deceit. I just don’t have the pull to find a holy relic.”
Joan smiled, trying to put on a brave face. “You tried. That’s what counts.”
“You are an amazing woman,” Heller muttered, surprised.
“No, just a tired one. If we had met a year ago things might have been different.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting roses or anything. I was just hoping we’d get a chance together.”
Joan pushed Heller. Despite her small statue, she caught the large man by surprise and almost toppled him. “Why don’t you just make me go outside and get your wish! Hey! Maybe, Miles can make you look like a love god instead of a leper! I should have known you were just like Johnny! He can’t love anyone but himself!”
Startled, Heller collapsed upon the couch and then started laughing. “Ha! The art of the deal!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Miles forgot the fundamental basis of the art of the deal,” Heller explained.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t have time to explain and Miles might be able to hear this. Do you trust me?”
“Trust you?”
“Do you trust me?” Heller asked, again.
“I guess so. Sorry about losing my temper. Everything’s getting to me. Maybe the MS is hitting me early. Who knows? All I know is I just smacked the only guy who’s been half way decent to me in like a thousand years.”
“I understand. I’m not exactly in the best frame of mind myself. Now for the hard part. Could you love me? Not do you love me, but could you love me?”
Stunned, Joan paused for a moment trying to decide if she had heard correctly. “What?”
“This is vital. This isn’t Beauty and the Beast. I’m not gonna turn into Prince Charming at the end of the story. Could you love me?”
“I don’t know you.”
“Every culture in the world has a story about love at first sight. Some believe that at that moment, a person can know if they might love someone.”
“I guess, but I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”
Heller grabbed her by the shoulders. “I’m not asking you skip a couple of emotional steps. Do you think we would be happy living together and fall in love? Could you love me?”
“Yes. God help me. Honestly, I don’t know if it’s because I’m desperate or there’s a little spark.”
“I think I can help both of us. We have about an hour, and if we hurry we can take care of it tonight. I have a friend that owes me a big favor.”
It took Heller fifteen minutes to convince Ralph, his friend from City Hall, to do him the favor. “I can lose my job over this!” he protested.
“I did find out who kidnapped your dachshund.” Heller avoided looking at Joan so her expression wouldn’t force him to laugh. “And I got her to promise to leave Fritz alone.”
Ralph groaned bitterly. “Alright, alright! If it’s that important, then fine. But you could have just come into the office in the morning.”
By the time Ralph arrived with the papers, Heller’s other visitor arrived to complete his plan. By sunrise, everything had been completed. “That’s it?” Joan asked.
“Hopefully,” Heller replied with a smile. “But there’s only one way to find out.”
Cautiously, Joan and Heller left the studio. As soon as they were six hundred sixty-six feet from holy ground, Miles the minor demon materialized inside a musky cloud of sulfur like a stage magician. “Mr. Heller, I must confess that I am extremely pleased. Perhaps we can do more business at a later date.”
“First, show me the contract before I transfer Joan to you,” Heller insisted gruffly.
A ball of flame exploded into a scroll, which floated into Heller’s open hand. Heller opened the scroll to discover a contract already signed by Miles. “Before I sign this contract, I have a simple question.”
“Please ask, Mr. Heller.”
“If I choose, I can use my wish to honor another contract? For example, if I have a contract to find a missing person you will help me if I wish.”
“We will honor the contract, until the contract is complete. There is no time limit or a limit on the type of contract.”
Heller signed the scroll. “Okay, Joan. You belong to the demon.”
Surprised, Joan stepped away from both of them. “What are you doing? I thought you loved me.”
Heller surrendered the scroll to the minor demon. He winked at Joan as though to ask her to trust him. Miles adjusted his glasses. “Oh, the others will be so pleased.”
“Before you haul her to Hell, I want my wish.”
“Oh course, Mr. Heller.”
“I wish for you to honor my last contract.”
Miles sighed and cleaned his glasses with his dirty shirt. “Did you learn nothing from Johnny Dalton? A wish should never be squandered. I am above such petty matters, but very well. It is done, Mr. Heller.”
Heller grinned widely and tipped his fedora to the minor demon. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Miles.” He wrapped his long arms around Joan and lifted her in the air. “Okay, Joan, let’s go.”
“She is mine, Heller! Do not think that you can set your will against that of Hell.”
“One moment please so I can savor this.” The detective released Joan. He kissed her briefly upon the lips and then started searching for something inside of his trench coat. Eventually, he produced a neatly folded sheet of paper to the minor demon. “This should explain everything.
Worried, the minor demon unfolded the paper and quickly scanned it. “What is this nonsense?”
“That, friend, is a wedding contract. Joan and I agreed to merge our souls and to love, honor, and obey each other. You can not take a soul who has not agreed to come with you. If you take Joan’s soul, you take mine which will violate the rules.”
“This is legal trickery! There is no soul bondage at work here!”
Heller nodded, conceding the minor demon’s point. “I suspected that the marriage contract alone would not normally bar you from taking Joan. That is why I made the wish. You must insure the terms of the entire contract. You will do so by ensuring that no other demons come after us.”
“No! No! It can not be!” Miles cried as his own magic throttled him.
“I believe scenario falls under the category of being tricked, bamboozled even.”
Slowly, the Hellfire faded from the eyes of Miles, the minor angel.
Joan looked from her new husband to her former tormentor. “Okay. What happened?”
Miles bowed pleasantly to the detective. “Mr. Heller realized my mistake. I had not quantified my customer.”
“In other words, Miles did not realize that my one wish was for love,” Heller added.
“So what happened to him?” Joan inquired.
Miles removed his glasses and wiped them clean with his tie. “I activated the wish before I knew the exact details. I was shamefully greedy and Mr. Heller managed to deceive me. According to the ancient laws, I must serve Mr. Heller for the rest of his life. In order for me to love, honor, and obey the both of you, my magic changed my fundamental nature, transforming me into a minor angel. You see despite my prior claims, evil can’t understand or withstand love.”
Joan wiped her eyes. “I see! The wishes can not impede mortal will, but as a minor demon Miles is not mortal. So when the magic took effect, it changed him to good, right?”
“Madam, the situation is even better than you suspect. In order to protect you, I have healed the sickness inside of you. You shall both have a long life ahead of you. One that I will ensure is a happy one. It is the least that I can do after all of the evil I’ve committed.”
“I won’t get sick?” Joan asked, crying.
Miles blushed, uncertain how to respond. “You won’t suffer through that illness. I’m afraid, Mr. Heller, that your wounds were caused by dark magic. That kind of magic always leaves a mark, but the sacrifice speaks highly of you.”
“What will happen to you?” Heller asked, surprised.
Miles coughed. “I can’t return to Hell. The others would kill me. And it would be very uncomfortable for me now anyway. I’m not technically good, so I can’t ascend to Heaven. I was hoping we could go into business.”
“Business?” Joan asked, confused. “But you aren’t evil any more.”
“Quite true, Mrs. Heller, but now I have a conscience, if not a soul. It will only last as long as the two of you are alive. And so, I feel compelled to make amends as long as I am able. Perhaps, I can earn a state of grace.”
“You want to join the detective agency.”
“Quite astute, Mr. Heller. I will do what I can to keep the demons from Mrs. Heller, but you and yours will always be cursed to find the evil and darkness in this world. Together, perhaps we can bring a candle. We can help people. People no one else can. Maybe God will take it into account some day.”
“Why do I feel like we’re being sold a pitch?” Joan asked, her crooked smile beaming.
“That’s because Miles figured out where he went wrong,” Heller explained. “The art of the deal is always knowing what your customers want.”
