Satan's Affair

“How old are you, kid?” Zade asks from behind me. I turn to see him coming around the hood, having put the last of the human remains in his car. He said he didn’t trust me to get rid of the bodies properly. And when I told him my henchmen would take care of it, he said the only henchman he trusts is himself.

It made me giddy. As if he was including himself in my little family. But sadly, he’s given no indication he plans on ever seeing me again.

I shrug my shoulders, swinging my legs back and forth. I shiver as a cold breeze picks up, blowing tendrils of brown locks across my face.

“I don’t know,” I answer quietly, swiping the hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “I’m sure that I’m in my twenties.”

He cocks a brow. Despite my best efforts, I shiver. I’ve never seen anyone cock their brow quite like he does. “How do you not know?”

I giggle, amused by that question. “How would I, silly?”

His raised brow plunges low. One end of his face to the other. I giggle again.

“Do you… not celebrate a birthday?”

I cant my head to the side, confused. “Why would I do that?”

He sighs and leans against the shiny black metal beside me. “The date you were born. What date was that?”

I shrug my shoulders again. “I have no idea. Daddy and Mommy never told me,” I say. I’ve heard of birthday celebrations in my time outside of the cult. I made it a point to learn a lot of things, mostly by reading newspapers. Birthday celebrations are something I still don’t quite grasp the point of.

“I grew up in a cult,” I state tightly. “I wasn’t born in a hospital, I was born in my parent’s home. They never told me when that was.”

He swallows. “No celebrations?”

This time, my laugh comes out bitter. “Daddy was the only one allowed to partake in any type of celebration, and it certainly wasn’t because I was born.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I realize how sad that sounds.

“I know that normal people usually know the dates they were born, but I was never taught to celebrate a birthday, so I never thought to ask when it was,” I explain quietly.

“Normal people… yeah.” He says that as if he’s not included in that category. “Every year, they celebrate another year on this hellhole of a planet, as if it’s something to be happy about,” he muses quietly, his voice deepening.

Sounds like he’s never celebrated a birthday either.

“You’re not normal?” I ask, my curiosity piquing.

“The interesting people never are, demon slayer.”

He straightens and walks around to his driver’s side door. When he opens it, I take that as my cue to leave.

“Will I see you again?”

The question makes me feel vulnerable. I’m not even sure why I asked when it’s my last day in Seattle. It’s well past midnight and my time in this city is coming to an end soon. But we will be back next year. Maybe he’ll

remember me and come visit.

He stares at me hard, his face blank and unreadable.

“I think so, kid.” He gets in his car and slams the door shut without another word. The car rumbles to life, the vibrations skittering up my spine. I hop off the car, trying to decide if I want to watch him drive away or not.

I feel an attachment to Zade now. I don’t want to let him go, but I know I have to.

I’ve never killed with anyone else besides my henchmen before. It’s indescribable, but I feel a bond with Zade now. I don’t let go of bonds very easily. Even though he smells of fire and brimstone, he called me a friend. Most importantly, he helped me kill demons. And from the sounds of it, he plans on saving those girls too.

Maybe people with dark souls aren’t all bad. Just because they’re dark, that doesn’t mean they’re not redeemable. That doesn’t mean there isn’t good in there.

I groan. Now I’m going to question myself every time I cast my judgements!