I stared at the man who was still holding out his hand in greeting.

Could I even call him a man? Creature? Being? Higher power?

Beast.

The problem was he looked more like an indie rock-god than he did a hooved nightmare with twisted horns. He looked more like the stuff of every teenage girl's (and hot-blooded woman's) fantasy than he did the bringer of pestilence and disease. Reaching close to six foot tall, the Devil was beautiful indeed, with contoured cheekbones, smooth flawless skin and mid-brown hair that fell foppishly over his forehead. Dressed in slim fitting black trousers, black shirt rolled up to the elbows and black waistcoat, unbuttoned, he cut a lithe handsome figure. His eyes proved a mystery, first hazel, then a tilt of his head and they were a striking azure, he blinked and they were the darkest chocolate. The myriad of colours was almost as hypnotic as his smile, which was warm and inviting, holding no obvious malice or malevolence.

It's a quandary, isn't it? he said. Do I take his hand? What will happen to me if I do? He held it up in front of his face and wiggled his fingers. It's always the same. Curious really because it looks just like a normal hand. There is nothing remotely special about it, nothing out of the ordinary. Although I have been told - and I'm not bragging you understand, I despise braggarts - that this hand can work magic in certain situations and yet to me this hand is simply a hand. Oh well, never mind. I understand your reticence.

Lowering his arm, he hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his black waistcoat. Behind him, the demons massed together in a semi-circle, the most heinous of congregations in thrall to their dark pastor. Their bodies entwined and twisted together until it was hard to discern whether they were separate monsters or whether their flesh had fused together to form one multi-headed hellish mutant. They licked at each other's skin with long forked tongues, their clawed hands caressing quivering flesh in a lewd fashion.

Lucifer followed the direction of my gaze and frowned, his dark brows furrowing deeply as he shot them what looked like a warning glare. The closest ones whimpered, bowing their heads and backing up a few steps, their wounded cries like the plaintive mewling of animals.

My apologies, he said, his tone sounding strangely genuine. Their enthusiasm knows no bounds but their social skills are severely lacking. His rainbow eyes raked over me, making my skin prickle wherever they touched. I can see they make you uncomfortable. Would you care to join me in a walk?

I wanted to say no. Hell, I wanted to scream it. But instead I found myself falling in step beside him, albeit a few metres apart, and as we walked I couldn't resist staring at him, constantly aware that my own social skills weren't exactly commendable at this point and yet unable to drag my eyes away from this strange man who seemed utterly at odds with the shadows that undulated and writhed on all sides.

As soon as that thought entered my head, the world around me shifted and changed. Gone was the dark churning seas of Purgatory, the stinking sulphurous wasteland and the constant howls of agony that tainted the air and in its place were lush green coiffured landscaped gardens reminiscent of some Jane Austen novel. Under my feet, a manicured uniform lawn stretched out ahead punctuated at regular intervals by sculptured fountains spraying water high into the air. Bordering us on both sides were neatly-clipped hedgerows and the sound of birds busily chirping in the trees and above stretched a wide expanse of sunny blue sky.

With a panicked gasp, I threw myself to the ground, instinctively curling up into a tight ball, shielding my head with my hands and remembering all too well the feeling of my skin melting under the sun's cruel touch.

Megan! Lucifer said. It's okay. His fingertips grazed my shoulder. It's not real, Megan. You're safe. You're not burning.

I raised my head to find him crouched in front of me, his brow wrinkled with concern.

I'm not burning?

No, he replied gently. Look, see?

Squinting, I dared to look up, still flinching as the light dazzled my vision for a brief moment. With a gasp of wonder and awe this time, as opposed to one of fear and trepidation, my eyes widened as they absorbed the sheer beauty of the crystalline sky above, layered with the gentle brush strokes of cloud. I was knocked out by the sight of it, this view I had never imagined I would ever see again, except via photographs or movies. A rush of pleasure buzzed through me as I spun round and round, feeling drunk on the splendour of it all, feeling giddy and light-headed. The sun caressed my face and I couldn't help but giggle madly, the bubble of laughter escaping my lips before I could stop it. Lucifer was laughing with me, his face lit up with joy and it was then I remembered.

I hadn't stood of my own volition. He had helped me, coaxing me from my foetal shell, crooning soft words of encouragement into my ears as he had taken my hand and pulled me to my feet. And I had blindly complied. I had been so spellbound by the sky above, so entranced, that I had thoughtlessly and willingly slipped my hand into his palm. I had let him spin me around as I laughed and marvelled at something I had believed was forever lost to me.

With a grimace I snatched my hand from his as if his very touch was capable of burning me greater than could the sun's rays. A flicker of hurt passed across his face but he recovered quickly, flashing me a wide, warm smile.

What are we? Where have you brought me? I demanded to know.

We are still in Purgatory, he explained. Although there are many realms within Purgatory that only I and those like me can access. This is one such realm. Beautiful isn't it? I do so love a garden. So much food for the senses, don't you think? So much to see, to smell, touch....taste. He winked at me as he stretched out his arm, running his hand along the leaves of a nearby hedgerow. He tugged off a small leaf and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger as he watched me thoughtfully. You could access this place if you wanted to.

How is that possible? I am nothing like you, I sneered indignantly.

Oh but you are, he said with a glint in his eye, tossing the leaf to the ground and drawing closer. His gaze lingered on me as he passed by my side. This costume you now wear might be different but inside our essence is very much the same. You and I were created from the same thought, the same emotion, the same warm whisper of breath that sparked our existence. He was so close now that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. Do not let story-telling and old fables confuse you, Megan. I was born an Archangel and that is what I remain. We are the same, you and I.

He turned abruptly and walked away, leaving a cold empty space behind me where he had stood as if his shadow had banished the sunlight. Seeing nothing else I could do but follow, I trailed along after him until we were walking side by side again, amidst an avenue of tall oak trees that lined our path.

So I could really access this realm if I wanted to?

Of course, he said with an enchanting grin. In fact, Michael used to come here quite often. Many a time have we walked through these gardens, discussing, debating, simply enjoying the pleasure of one another's company.

You and Michael? I scoffed.

Lucifer turned to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. Yes, Megan. I don't know why that should surprise you. All business aside, I rather like him. In fact, I would go as far as to say I have a real soft spot for him. And him for me, although I doubt he would freely admit it. He can be terribly stuffy at times. I do hope you're not as stuffy as him?

Without giving me time to answer, he carried on, traversing the lawn in long strides until I was half-jogging to catch him up. Either side of us the line of trees seemed to grow denser, darker and once or twice I thought I saw a flash of movement amongst the stout trunks although I did not have a chance to think much upon it as when I looked ahead, I saw what appeared to be a large stately home at the end of the avenue. I stopped dead in my tracks.

What is that place?

Lucifer chuckled softly. Always so suspicious. It's just a house, nothing more. You have nothing to fear, you know.

Nothing to fear from the Devil? It was my turn to laugh.

His eyes became solemn as he studied me. Would it help you to know that I cannot harm you here, any more than you can harm me? If that wasn't the case, then my demons could have attacked you on any of your previous visits, but they didn't. They can't. And nor can I. Not that I have any desire to, for that matter. Please, Megan, relax.

I'm walking side by side with Satan and you ask me to relax?

Lucifer wrinkled his nose in distaste. Now there's a name I have never gotten used to. It's so ugly, don't you think? But yes, I understand entirely but please believe me when I say that no harm will come to you. I give you my word.

The Father of Lies is giving me his word?

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Oh again with the names! Shall I never escape them? He looked at me steadily, his mouth set in a firm line. Look, I can't make you come along with me and I certainly don't expect you to trust me, but I do know one thing.

And what's that?

A smile danced at the corners of his mouth. You want to, he said. Whether you like it or not, you want to.

And he was right. I did.

******

The great hall inside the huge sprawling house was alive with music.

Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling holding hundreds of white candles that sent shards of sparkling light reflecting off the tall, ornately framed mirrors that lined the walls on either side. The arched panels above were covered in Michaelangelo-style frescos, awash with images of angels and frolicking cherubim. Gilded sculptures stood in front of the mirrors like guards on sentry duty, watching the throng of people who danced and moved about the hall perfectly in time to the music played by the string quartet in the far corner.

I stared at them all, transfixed as I watched them dance in their finery. The women wore fantastic gowns of startling colour and intricate decoration, with heavily-boned bodices laced at the back and their powdered hair was teased into tall plumes. The men led the dance in their knee-length breeches, waistcoats and frock coats in rich colours trimmed with gold braiding, their greying wigs tied neatly at the back with velvet ribbons. It was like being thrown back in time, catapulted into this tapestry of colour and sound that seemed so alien to me and yet weirdly familiar as if I had stood in this room a thousand times before.

Is this real? I asked. It looks real, sounds real....

Does it matter? Lucifer replied, holding out his arm. May I have this dance?

I'm hardly..... I began.

Dressed for the occasion? Oh but you are. See.

And with that I looked down to see I was wearing a stunning gown of emerald green, tight on the arms, sleeves bordered with ruffles. Layers of petticoats lifted the skirt, the corset nipped at my waist. I raised a hand to my head, feeling how my hair was intricately twisted and pinned into place, teased into pre-Raphaelite curls that now framed my face.

Well, I have to say, as wondrous as Michael is to behold, there is something utterly divine about you, Lucifer whispered into my ear. Shall we?

In a perplexed daze, I took his arm and walked towards the centre of the hall, the crowd parting to let us through as we took our position amongst them, ready for the next dance. Like the perfect gentleman, he bowed and I scanned the room nervously, attempting to copy the women which resulted in a very awkward curtsey. The music began and Lucifer began to move, his footsteps light and fluid as he led me around the dancefloor. The whole time we danced he did not take his eyes from me but my eyes wandered everywhere, drinking in faces, captivated by the hundred images reflected in the mirrors. Glancing up, I almost cried out loud when I saw the frescos moving above us, the angels and cherubim joining the dance, moving across the ceiling, their faces alight with exhilaration.

You dance beautifully, Lucifer said with a smile of admiration.

Th-thank you, I stuttered. I didn't even know I could dance, not like this anyway.

It's no surprise, remarked Lucifer. Michael can dance quite well, although he doesn't do it very often admittedly. Always the same stuffy old Michael. It's considered a vanity, you see. He pretends he doesn't like to dance, but of course, I know better. Sometimes I think I know him better than he knows himself.

What is he like? Apart from being stuffy, of course. The words fell from my mouth before I even realised what I was saying.

Lucifer laughed, whirling me around quickly and catching me tightly around the waist.

I knew you were going to be fun, I just knew it, he beamed with delight. But why don't we leave the Michael conversation for another time. That is, if you will come back again? I do so hope you will.

I'm not sure I really have much choice, I said frowning. It appears to come with the job.

Lucifer's smile widened. Perfect. Then let's not ruin the dance with business talk. We are here to enjoy ourselves, are we not?

I nodded automatically, barely even remembering why I was there in the first place. The thought lodged painfully in my skull. I knew I should remember. I knew I had to remember and yet every time I tried, my head throbbed, sending waves of crippling nausea surging through me.

The music was growing louder, increasing in tempo and yet still we danced. Around and around we spun, the room moving faster than a spinning top, reduced to a myriad of colour and light that made me blink furiously. I was dangerously aware of Lucifer's hand on the small of my back, the way his thumb was languidly stroking mine, how his rainbow eyes were pulling me in deeper and deeper. I felt disorientated, confused, losing myself with each step that I took. A tremor in my legs made me clutch him tighter and it was then, over his shoulder, that the mirror elicited a face I knew only too well. The memory hit me hard, like a claw hammer to the head.

Caelan!

I called her name out loud but it was muted by the deafening crescendo of the violins and cellos, the bows screeching over the strings. Lucifer frowned as I pushed against him, loosening myself from his grip and stumbling away, whipping my head this way and that as I frantically searched the room for another glimpse of the seer.

Megan, wait! he pleaded. Megan, come back!

The crowd surged inwards, bodies pushing against me as I desperately tried to force a path through them. Managing to squeeze through a gap, I spied Caelan, still wearing that same dress that she had worn when I had killed her, her feet bare and stained with blood. She was dancing but from the look on her face, this was not a dance that she wanted to take part in. Her white eyes bulged with alarm as she was passed from partner to partner, being whirled violently faster each time. The faces of the dancers began to twist and undulate, the skin bubbling and melting into monstrous guises with hooked noses and pointed chins. They were like life-size Punch puppets, dancing a masquerade ball, only I knew these masks were horribly real. Wide open maws revealed rows of tiny sharp teeth and long forked tongues lolled out of their mouths, dribbling saliva. Terror ballooned inside me until I thought I might burst from the fear.

The rest of the crowd stood back, laughing hysterically and forming a ring around Caelan and her demons as they clawed at her skin and pulled her between them in some macabre tug-o-war. I shoved at those closest to me, trying to break through and almost succeeding before a hand encircled my waist, tugging me backwards. I struggled against Lucifer, battering my fists against his arm.

Megan, stop, he cried. Please, it's no use.

You don't understand! I made a promise. I have to save her. I have to! Let me go, damn it.

You're too late, he insisted. What's done is done and there is nothing you or I can do to help her. She cannot be saved. You cannot stop this. She belongs to them now.

He nodded towards the shadow-creatures as they pulled on the seer as if they would rip her limbs free from the sockets. Caelan was screaming. And I was screaming. Screaming her name over and over again as the walls began to fall away around me, peeling like rotting paint and plaster around my feet. The chandeliers shattered overhead, showering fragments of sharp needles down upon everyone's head and plunging the room into an endless darkness.

We were back in the dark realm again and from all around me I could hear the woeful cries of the sea of the lost souls, churning in agony at what we were about to witness. The demons converged upon Caelan, their mutated visages verging on ecstasy as they grabbed at her violently, ripping her dress and slicking long tongues over her bare skin. All the while, I struggled in Lucifer's arms, all the while he was begging me to stop, pleading with me and all the while, Caelan's wide eyes remained fixed upon me as she mouthed words I could not possibly hear and yet I heard them resounding in my head all the same.

Save me. Save me. Save me.

She was still saying those words as she was pulled back into the writhing mass, still screaming out her pleas until I could no longer see her face. They lifted her up, dragging her further and further away as she kicked and flailed in their grasp. Holding her struggling body aloft with glee, finally they tugged her down, consuming her completely. The last thing I saw of Caelan Hope was her arm outstretched, her hand clawing at the air, until she was swallowed whole by the shadows and disappeared into the gaping blackness.

I crashed to the ground, tears spilling down my cheeks, my chest wracked with painful sobs as the realisation hit me. I had come her to save her and instead I had lost her. I had failed.

Falling to his knees beside me, Lucifer's pale face was stricken with sadness, his beautiful eyes now almost black with the heavy burden of grief.

I'm sorry, Megan, I'm so sorry, he whispered. I wish things could be different. I really do. But there are rules to be followed and debts to be paid that even I cannot intervene in.

He took my hand in his.

Some things just are.