CHAPTER#37

"What the fuck?" Dana ran her fingers along the edge of the paper. Several lines had been drawn on the side, tiny arrows that pointed off the page. She untaped the butcher paper and flipped it over.

An exploded diagram of a clock assembly had been drawn on the back. Expertly shaded and heavily detailed, Dana realized that she couldn't tell if she was looking at a drawing or a photograph. In awe, she put the paper back on the desk, the new image toward her, and taped it down.

Breathing heavily, she knelt to the floor and picked up one of her new gears. Hovering over the image, she found its counterpart. Setting the gear in place, it was a perfect fit.

Had she drawn this in her sleep? Grabbing some more parts from the floor, she put them in place, finding where each one of them went. Older parts were shaded differently, their drawings colored slightly darker than the rest. Setting her beer to the side, she began moving the pieces around, figuring out which ones worked and which didn't.

Though she worked in silence, the steady ticking of a clock filled her mind as she continued working into the night.

-

"So what should I call you?" Beth asked. "I've read enough books to know that you won't give me your real name. Or at least that you shouldn't."

The demon sipped at his wine and smiled. "You can call me Oliver. I once had the fortune of working with a man by that name, and have been fond of it ever since."

"Okay Oliver. I was hoping we could play a game. You see, I notice that you said you would answer me any question, but only if it pleases you." Beth picked up a piece of cheese, put it near her mouth, then tossed it back on the table. "You see, I get the impression that you don't want me to leave here. However, I do not wish to stay. So there must be something I can offer you in return for such information."

"You mean other then amusement?" Oliver set his wine glass down, and pulled off his gloves. The dusky red hue of his skin was like merlot, and his fingernails were black and glossy. He traced a line down Beth's chin, across her neck, and then along her bare shoulder, toying with the strap of her nightgown. "Hmm. Give me a minute to think about your proposition."

"While you think, may I look around your garden?"

"Please." Oliver smiled, his horns glistening. Beth stood, wandering out into the small maze of hedges. She lightly touched the foliage, greeting the statues again as she passed.

She needed Oliver to take the bait. The thought that the demon was real sent a chill down her spine, but lit a fire in her groin. She wondered if he had a tail, or if his horns were sensitive. Something about his skin made her want to taste him, explore every inch of his body, find out what a demon liked. His attitude wasn't unpleasant, and she was sure he was bored out of his mind waiting for something to do. A large hippo statue waved at her enthusiastically from the other side of a small hedge, so she waved back. The garden was charming, but she felt like there was a far more sinister side to the demon and his methodologies.

God, the thought of him was making her wet.

"I have decided." Oliver appeared before her, the air reeking suddenly of matches and coal. "We shall play a game. Winning the game means that I will tell you how to leave. Losing the game means that you remain here with me." His hands were on her, a fresh prize in his sights. She felt the power of his touch, the heat of his flesh through her nightgown. "What do you say to the terms?"

"How can I trust that you will keep your word?" Beth asked.

"Demons cannot tell a lie when directly asked. We can twist the truth, or deceive, but the nature of any indentured servant such as myself is the inability to lie." Oliver shrugged. "It is quite the inconvenience, but it makes me very good at what I do."

"Winning means that you allow me to leave unhindered. You nor anything here will attempt to stop me." Beth winked. "I also accept your terms on the grounds that the process for leaving is actually possible for a woman of my abilities. I would hate to discover that leaving requires the use of magic or transforming into a bird and flying away."

Oliver's grin faltered. "What are you, an attorney?"

"Oh, I'm much worse." Beth moved close enough that she could smell the wine on his hot breath. "I'm a woman with an education."

Oliver laughed, his eyes crinkling in delight. "Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you!" He waved his hand and they were back in the gazebo. Curtains hung from the windows, transforming the gazebo into a room. The food was gone, replaced by a series of soft, leather chairs.

"We have a deal?" Beth asked.

"Absolutely." Oliver bowed, indicating with his hands that she should sit on the couch nearest to him. She did his bidding, crossing her legs slowly. "Now, the rules for this game are simple. You are allowed to ask me any three questions, which I will answer truthfully. However, I will ask you to perform a task for me before I answer any of your questions. You will use these three questions to figure out how to escape from this place. The game ends when you either refuse to complete a task, or you figure out how to leave. Do these rules make sense to you?"

"I think so," Beth told him. "However, prior to the game itself actually starting, I want to clarify a few of these rules."

Oliver's face twitched again. "You do?"