Read Page 38

"Unexpected guests," Satan called breezily as she swept in, the Ant right behind her. "Lucky, lucky me."

As usual, Satan looked beautiful and fearless. It pleased her to take the form of an older woman-a really gorgeous older woman-and as usual, her designer suit and shoes were dazzling. I tried to avert my eyes but, like Lot's wife (Laura told me who that was and what happened to her), I always, always had to check her footgear.Advertisement

This time she was dressed in a smartly cut tan suit; it looked like wool. In hell! Well, I suppose if the heat didn't bother Satan . . . which, given her job description, made sense.

The skirt was a black high-waisted pencil skirt with the hem stopping just above the knees . . . a risky move for an older woman (or fallen angels who chose to look like older women) but Satan had the legs to carry it off. The sleek jacket had long sleeves and crisply notched lapels. Her blouse was cardinal red and, from what I could see, silk, with a soft, almost scooped neckline and mother-of-pearl buttons. No makeup, no jewelry. And she didn't need either, dammit.

"To what do I owe this unexpected intrusion?"

I opened my mouth to answer, then looked at her feet again.

The devil was wearing my shoes. My red Christian Louboutin honeymoon flats.

My shoes.

The devil had my shoes.

The devil. Was wearing. My honeymoon shoes. In hell.

"Something catch your eye, vampire queen?"

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I had no memory of deciding to move, of wondering what I should do. Somehow I'd made it all the way across the room while "catch" was coming out of her mouth. Somehow my hands were around her throat and squeezing. There was a dim sound behind me-like muffled waves hitting a beach made of cotton, not sand. Faint and not important.

I felt and heard the crunch as Satan's vertebrae shattered. Her eyes were brown and bulging. She had her hands locked around my wrists. Somebody had ahold of the back of my shirt and was trying to pull me back. Too late.

Then a distinct sound, one I couldn't remember ever hearing before but recognized all the same: death rattle.

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