Her bed was soft, at least.

The journey here was a blur but I like it that way. It just meant that I had gone on autopilot the moment I know that the target has given in to me. Sometimes I am forceful. Sometimes I am dominant. Sometimes I am a woman.

Tonight, I was neither.

My target stood over me with a wicked grin and I could almost see her thoughts, the plan she had for me.

I didn't care, really. I was more fixated on the fact that I hadn't really caught her name.

You see, this was a rush job. I wasn't really introduced to her file before being sent over.

I was just given the basic run down-23, red-head, abusive father, Catholic-and expected to do a good job.

I suppose I should say mission accomplished, though there really wasn't anything for me to do. I was just an object for her, I would be anything she imagined beneath her.

The desperate kisses along my throat were not mine. And even when she went lower, and lower. And lower.

And my soft moans filled the room.

I didn't like to think of myself as a substitute, but that was what I was becoming for people in the century. Just a way to blow off steam.

I'd like to think that those thoughts were over exaggerations, but they were. I could have been switched out with a log and she wouldn't notice.

I wasn't really doing anything, like I said before. But that was the role I needed to play to fulfil her fantasies.

Before two days ago she was not on The List. She might have been on some other list but her name had been nowhere near those meant for damnation.

Forty-eight hours ago though, the good girl in her had snapped and here she was, in bed with a stranger.

Sometimes I wondered why He allows this, let's me toy with his little creations until they leave him. He could have stopped what happened tonight.

He could have stopped everything.

But why didn't he? Now He has to strike one more name off that massive palm of his.

"Feeling philosophical again?" A familiar voice cut into my thoughts and I directed my gaze to the shadows by the foot of the bed.

"It's you," I said blankly, realizing that the sex was over. It was hard to notice the passing time when I got lost in thought.

I gently pushed my target's sleeping form off me and sat up, not minding that I was naked in his presence.

"At least act surprised once in a while and make things interesting."

I stared at him blankly as he stepped out of the shadows. He usually let me think till morning. "Do I have another job?"

"This is the form you chose?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

He looked the same as yesterday, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans though I half-expected him to show up wearing an Armani suit.

"She needed someone she could dominate," I traced the bite marks on my neck and shoulders then shrugged. "She didn't want much."

"You don't sound like you enjoyed it." he mused.

"What do you want, Lucifer?" I asked, looking down at my target and brushing her hair away from her face.

As usual, she was still pretty. But her soul was not, from turbulent to corrupted in just one night. I could see them, the cracks forming in her spirit man.

"She won't make it." The Morning Star himself piped from behind me, sounding as chipper as he ever was, and British.

Sometimes I wonder if he ever felt remorse for what he had done. Other time I wondered why I even cared. He was the one who made me what I am after all. He was my handler.

"Are you sure?" I asked, something I don't usually do. But I never found it far when someone had been good their whole live and only one moment of weakness ruins it.

"If she does, you'd have to tempt her again in the next two years," he said offhandedly, and I winced.

I never liked sleeping with the same target twice. "Well, aren't you eager to increase Hell's population."

"That reminds me," Lucifer said. "Your next mission."

"Objective?"

"Recruit."

"Location?"

The Devil smiled and walked up to me. "Nigeria."