Page 7

The Best Cake Eve r… I Think

L ike a martyr walking to her execution, Helena crossed into her dining room and sat down. Only half an hour before, it had been filled with the laughter and conversation of her friends.

But maybe that was a good way to go out? Her last night on earth had been lovely. Isn’t that what people most w ished for?

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head to herself. This was not what she had wanted at all. She wante d to live.

A plate appeared before her, holding one of the pieces of cake. It was followed by a full glass of milk clunking onto the table. “Eat this. It’ll help you feel better,” the demon said, and he took the chair around the corner next to her and sat.

She eyed him and the cake with mistrust, even though she had already consumed a piece at dinner. He still wore the human face and clothes as he sat down. She hated to admit it, but that helped somewhat. Thinking of him as human made him less scary. But still, there had been two pieces left in the kitchen, and he didn’t have the other with him.

“Aren’t you going to have one?” she asked, picking up the fork on the plate but not intending to use it on the cake. Even if it was a pathetic weapon, and she didn’t even know if she had the will to use it that way, it was better than nothing. Would the tines even penetrate his skin if he att acked her?

“I can eat if you want me to, but it won’t taste like anything to me,” he stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t look at her when he said that, instead letting his strange eyes drift off into the middle distance. With his human face on, he looked so … tired.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “It won’t taste like anything?” she repeated, incredulous. “But you were… oh.” Her eyebrows shot up as she put it together. “That’s why you had me tasting for you.”

He nodded, but the long-seeing eyes had shifted to her cake, now filled wi th hunger.

“But how do you know if your food is good then?” she asked, glomming on to a safe question. After all, she didn’t taste e verything.

“I can smell it,” he said in a low voice. “Chocolate, frying fish, buttery savor. I can smell all of it. But the second I put anything in my mouth, ashes.” He touched his lips with his fingers in a mockery of a che f’s kiss.

“That’s horrible,” Helena said, forking a bite of the chocolate into her mouth. It sat on her tongue, heavy with the prospect of it too turning to ash in her mouth. It didn’t. It remained the decadent symphony of flavor it had been from that first spoon lick. She hadn’t even realized she had started eating it, and already the plate was h alf gone.

“Yes,” the demon said, his eyes following her motions with the fork from plate to mouth and back. “It’s horrible, alright.” Then he blinked as if remembering himself. “Alright. So… based on what I’ve observed, I am guessing that you’ve never actually done any of this before?” He gestured at the kitchen. “The summoning and the payment and all.”

“I’m still not sure how it happened.”

He waved a hand. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to tell you what you need to know to set tle this.”

That raised her alarm bells again.“But how will I know it’s the truth, and you’re not trying to trick me or something?” she asked before wondering if asking such a thing would anger him. She had flashes of being tied to an old-fashioned spit and roasted with an apple in her mouth while the demon basted her with a pa intbrush.

Instead, he just cocked one eyebrow at her. “You’re just going to have to trust me,” he said, amused. “And if you don’t ever do it again, everything should be fine.” He cleared his throat and repositioned in his seat. “Alright, what you need to understand is this: there are three things you can give a demon to pay for their services.” He ticked off three fingers. “The shorthand for it is mind, body, or soul. And before you freak out, it’s not what you think,” he warned, holding up a hand as Helena reacted to the list.

He plowed on. “Body is the easy one—everyone knows it. We consume something from your body. I’m sure you’ve heard of blood sacrifices. It doesn’t have to be blood; it’s just the most sensationally known thing people offer. Soul is… well, really a misnomer. It’s life energy, usually taken from you via sex and is the go-to of most succubi or incubi. They’ve perfected getting the most out of that.”

He paused to see if she comprehended. “Do you have a question?” he said, probably noting her ex pression.

“Well, I mean…” She sighed, deciding to let her caution go a bit. “It’s just… all the movies and documentaries out there about the dangers of demon summoning. You’re making it sound so … normal?”

“Look, don’t let me mislead you. Demon summoning is really dangerous. I’m not kidding,” he stressed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back. “But it is determined by scale. Like having a drink of wine at dinner, mostly fine. Having a case of wine at dinner, probably going to kill you.”

Helena thought about that as she took a drink of her milk.“What? So, for little things you can just cut your finger, but for big things like…” She tried to think of an example.

“That’s where you get into the human sacrifices, yes,” he said, nodding. “It’s all to pay the… let’s just call it demon magic. It pays it back. And demons always get p aid back.”

And just when I start to feel comfortable, he says something like that , she thought. “Okay, then. What do you want?” she asked, steeling herself. “What would be a fair compensation fo r dinner?”

He held up his thumb with the other two fingers.“The third thing. Mind.Mind usually means I can consume a memory, thought, dream, something l ike that.”

“You want one of my memories?” she asked.

“Yes, please.” He nodded e ffusively.

Helena scraped at the plate, gathering up the mousse frosting onto the edge of her fork. “Will it hurt?” she asked, bringing it to h er mouth.

“No,” he said, then leaned forward and thumped his hand against her forehead.

The world tilted sideways. The lighting in the room went wrong and sounds echoed sharp and painful, all while echoing hollowly. There was no illusion around him now. The demon sat across from her in all his emaciated horror. The ground seemed to be opening up through the boards of her floor, letting in sulfurous smoke and waves of heat, along with cries of pain and suffering which no one would be able to assuage. Coldness pressed against the inside of Helena’s skull, like an ice cream headache but sharper and physical as she felt something leaving her through the palm of the demo n’s hand.

And then it was over.

Helena sat there stunned as the room returned to her soft dim lighting. The floorboards were normal and flat, and there were no other sounds except the ticking of her clock on the wall.

Then the demon next to he r moaned.

She jumped a little bit as he leaned forward, once more hiding behind a human facade. His fingers were pressed to his mouth, his eyes closed in pure ecstasy. Then he leaned back, tilting his head, breathing hard as if he were going to orgasm or something. Helena found herself recoiling in her seat but unable to l ook away.

Then he sighed, letting his arms drop to his lap while his face morphed into pure bliss. “Oh damn, that was good,” he said, then added. “Too much butter though. I didn’t need to overcompensate so much.”

“What… what was that?” Helena demanded, rubbing at her forehead where the ice cream headache faded but left her feeling d isturbed.

“My payment,” the demon said, opening his eyes to look at her. “I just ate your memory of eating that chocola te cake.”

Her eyes went wide, then she glanced down at the finished plate, before going back to him. “You ate my memory of me eating the cake. I can’t remember what it tastes like at all.” It was a disconcertin g feeling.

He nodded, drunkenly sitting up in the chair. “See? I told you. Not so bad. We’re sq uare now.”

“I really wish you had asked first before you…” she gestured at her head when the proper nouns for it just wouldn’t come to her, “ did that.”

“If I had, you would have tensed up, maybe even fought me about it, and made it harder on both of us,” he sai d simply.

She wrinkled her nose. “You still should have asked for pe rmission.”

He looked at her askance. “I’m a demon. Sue me.” Then he slapped his hands on the table “And we’re done here. You can send me back now.” He stood up and moved back toward her kitchen.

“What? That’s it?” Helena asked, rushing after him as he spurred hims elf away.

“Yup,” he said, changing back into his demonic self the second he crossed the threshold. “I got what I want; you got what you want. Never summon demons again, and we can call this a win-win. Hurray. I rarely g et those.”

It all seemed too abrupt. He hadn’t even tried to upsell her for her soul with promises of more power.“But what if—”

He spun back to her, pointing a black nail straight at her nose. She managed to stop half an inch before it sank into her skin, her eyes crossing as she stared do wn at it.

“No,” he said. “No, ‘buts.’ No summoning me again. Do you understand me? Like you said, this was an accident. Don’t become just like every other human being in the world and suddenly get greedy becausethatpath will cost your soul and the destruction of everything that you love and care about. Are we clear?”

Helena carefully backed up. Then nodded. “Yes, I understand,” she said.

He lowered his finger. “Good. Now send me home.”

“Okay,” Helena agreed. “Um, how do I do that exactly?”