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Lucifer’s Daughter

By:Eve Langlais

Chapter One


Satan appeared in a puff of smoke that brought with it the acrid smell of brimstone. I glanced at him briefly, then continued to paint my toenails a gorgeous, seashell pink.

“You"re a disgrace to your lineage,” the Devil said, starting in on his favorite rant, pacing the small confines of my living room.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said with disinterest, blowing on the wet coat of polish. “Whatever happened to „hello"?”

“That would require manners, something you know I abhor,” he retorted.

“Well, could you at least knock? I"m kind of fond of my privacy--not to mention, as a girl, I could have been doing something–” I paused here, trying to think of something appropriate. Of course, I couldn"t at the moment, but I would about an hour later when the conversation was long done. “Girly.”

Satan just snorted. He knew me so well. “Why can"t you be more like your half-sisters?” he railed.

“Um, probably because they"re succubi and I"m part human.”

“Minor details. Couldn"t you at least sin a little? You"re supposed to be a princess of Hell.”

“I bet other princesses are lucky enough to have their dads knock first.”

“See what I mean?” he said in exasperation. “No respect, which would usually make me proud, but you"re not following through with vile acts. You"re making me look like a bad parent. My minions in Hell are laughing at me. There have even been rumors I"m no longer fit to be the Father Of All Sin, since I can"t even control my own daughter.”

“Yeah, well, it sucks to be you.” I"d always been the good apple in a sea of bad ones, a fact that drove my dad--The Devil, Beelzebub, whatever you wanted to call him--wild.

“It wasn"t bad enough you got straight A"s in school. Oh, no,” he said, warming up. “You just have to be a virgin, too. You"re twenty-three years old. It"s just wrong,” he shouted. “I raised you to be more evil than this.”

“I told you before, not until I fall in love,” I said, finally standing up, my body bristling with tension as we faced off over an age-old argument. I wanted my first time to be special. Dad knew that. I"d read enough books about sex to know this momentous occasion would be a memory that would last a lifetime, which in my case could be quite a while, given my parentage. Was it my fault I hadn"t yet found the one? I mean, just think of the criteria this poor fellow had to meet.

One, he couldn"t be completely mortal–being a little stronger than normal girls, I had a fear of hurting him in the heat of the moment. Two, he had to not run screaming when he found out my dad happened to be Satan, master of lies and deceit. And three, the lucky winner had to be hot.

Hot enough to melt my insides into mushy goo, and make me go cross-eyed. Those were just the top three criteria; I had a few more, but I had yet to meet someone who managed to get past the first three, which made me wonder if I needed to revise my list, but dammit, I refused to compromise. I knew I"d find the one eventually, but while I waited for Mister Right, I had to say, I quite enjoyed driving my dad batty.

Lucifer pulled at his still-dark hair that only had hints of grey at the temples, and sighed wearily.

“Why do you do this to me?” he asked, slumping onto the couch. I sat down beside him and hugged his stocky body. After all, when all is said and done, I do love my father, even if he can be a tad overbearing.

“Hey, if it"s any consolation,” I said in an effort to cheer him up, “I probably won"t wait to get married first. That"s a little sin, right?”

“I guess,” he said, sounding a little mollified.

Of course, my decision to skip marriage might have to do with the fact I couldn"t enter a church without all the religious items bursting into flame. So unfair. I hadn"t done anything evil--well, truly evil--and yet God and all his trappings reacted to me like I was the anti-Christ, something my only human brother found highly amusing. Even priests couldn"t get close to me; well, the pure ones, anyway. The bad ones had no problem at all. It was only the pure of faith following the doctrine of the One God who dropped to the floor writhing in agony. Good thing most of the priests I met were of the other variety. Needless to say, I didn"t think marriage lay in the cards, unless I did the whole „city hall judge" thing, which personally I thought lacked romance and commitment.

My dad still sat on the couch, looking woebegone. Good thing none of his minions were around to see. It made me glad that, around me, he didn"t feel like he had to put on an act. I mean, it had to be hard, being evil all the time. Even bad guys needed a break–and someone to love them.

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