Chris woke in a cell—not the belly of some sea monster, which he counted as a bonus seeing as how being digested did not even make his list of things to do.

Having woken in plenty of cells in his time—arrests for being drunk and peeing in public places being the most common reason—he’d become quite the connoisseur. This cell ranked among the bottom.

First off, it didn’t even have simple amenities like a toilet or sink.

No bed.

Not even a pot to piss in.

Rising from the uneven stone floor, covered in a layer of grime, he noted a small window set high in the wall, covered in bars, no glass. He did a chin-up, his fingers grasping the rough stone ledge, pulling himself high enough to peek out.

He stared. Blinked a few times, and yet nothing he saw changed.

A part of him wondered if he’d eaten another bag of ’shrooms. How could what he saw be real? He looked upon a vast courtyard, surrounded on all sides by buildings made of mismatched stone blocks of varying color inset with tiny barred windows, just like his.

Inside that yard, the ground covered in a slick slime, were people being tortured.

Seriously fucking tortured as in stretched on racks.

Flayed by barbed cat-o’-nine-tails.

Some labored, carrying heavy stones back and forth, their bodies bent. Their moans constant.

The most horrifying were those being pulled apart, limb by limb, with chains. The screams were horrifying, the pain so obvious and real, yet there was no spurting blood. No true death. The person torn apart would find themselves reassembled, and the torture began anew.

Shutting his eyes, he wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare.

A cruel, twisted dream.

But he couldn’t make himself believe the lie. Not anymore. He couldn’t hide from the truth.

I’m in Hell.

And the Devil truly was his daddy.

Remember that adage about getting what you wished for? He should have wished for a big-screen television, but no, instead, he’d found his father, and what a surprise, they’d instantly disliked each other.

It didn’t help that they each denied the other’s existence. Only problem? Denial was no longer an option.

I truly am the Antichrist.

The realization straightened his spine and brought a smirk to his lips.

I am the fucking Antichrist. Which meant, he was the heir to Hell.

Cool.

Or should he say hot, given how the arid air heated his skin?

As the future ruler of Hell, that meant he should have certain privileges. So why, then, did they have him locked in a cell?

Surely a mistake. One he’d rectify.

He moved to the door, a slender portal made of rusted metal and fat rivets. It had a peek-a-boo slot that he knocked on.

It opened, and he managed to not recoil—barely—as a rheumy yellow eye peered at him. “What do you want?”

“Open this door.”

A wet chuckle met his request.

“Do you know who I am?” Chris asked.

“Another of the Dark Lord’s supposed by-blows. See them all the time.”

“I am his heir.”

“Not for long, if you’re in here. And even once your mortal body dies, your soul will stay and visit.”

Die? He couldn’t die. He had a destiny.

“Where is Lucifer? Bring him to me at once.”

“I ain’t your servant.” Slam. The sliding panel cut off his view and the conversation.

The nerve. Chris pounded at the door. Kicked it. Cursed, even used some of the new ones Isobel had taught him. But it remained shut.

More annoying, the powers he’d begun to cultivate, that damnable erratic magic of his, refused to work. He strained so hard, he was pretty sure he burst a vessel.

The door remained shut.

It might have been hours. It could have been days. There was no way to tell time in this place where the light never changed, and the view remained the same.

The door opened abruptly with a creak meant to scare. Chris didn’t move, although he did peek through the bangs hanging in his face to see who’d come to visit.

Lucifer stood framed in the doorway, finally looking more respectably like the Lord of Hell in his well-fitted suit, replete with a tie—with an angry penguin stitched into it?

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” the Devil asked.

“Cut the bullshit. Why are you here?”

“Finally, someone who doesn’t plague me with social niceties. Do you know how many people still say ‘thank you,’ and ‘you’re welcome?’ You’re in Hell. You should be telling me to fuck off.”

“Fuck off.”

“Watch your mouth, boy. I am still lord here. You will respect my authority.”

Instead, Chris snickered. “Whatever. Why are you here? Other than to indulge in idle chitchat.”

“I have a proposition for you, boy.”

“Does it involve shoving my foot where the sun doesn’t shine?” Chris asked, standing to face Lucifer. He wouldn’t cower in front of this man, even if he was the Devil.

“While your lack of respect is refreshing, and your belligerence music to my fatherly ear, the fact of the matter is, you can’t stay in Hell.”

“You’re going to kill me.” For some reason, this didn’t make him cower or fear. Probably because he sensed the words were untrue the moment he said them.

“The thought had crossed my mind. It’s what I usually do with pretenders.”

“But I am not a pretender.”

“No. Which would usually make it even more imperative I kill you because of the prophecy and all. But, according to my most esteemed sorceress, a new vision has arisen. One that has even my brother losing his mind. He’s insisting I throw you in the abyss and erase you entirely.”

The abyss? Chris didn’t know what that meant but could guess it didn’t mean anything good. “Do you always do what your brother says?”

“Fuck no.” Lucifer chuckled. “On the contrary, the more God prattles on about the fate of the world and all that shit, the more I want to keep you alive.”

“Gee, your fatherly love for me is making me tear up.” Snort.

“A shame you’re a boy. I could start to enjoy your sarcasm. However, there can only be one Dark Lord of Hell. But the good news is, I could use a mini-me on the mortal plane.”

He chose to ignore the insulting mini-me claim to focus on the important bit. “So, you’re sending me back to Earth?”

“Yes, but only on one condition. I find myself in a bit of a pickle, and I want you to take care of it for me.

“Take care of what?” Chris asked rather skeptically. Satan’s idea of a pickle and his might not be the same.

“Nothing huge, just…I kind of made a binding promise that I can’t keep.”

“What’s the problem? Aren’t you the one advocating broken promises and lies?” His stare added, I know you’re already a liar and a deadbeat dad who couldn’t spend two minutes looking me up. Chris still wasn’t sure if he believed the Lord of Hell wouldn’t know about a son. What kind of all-powerful demon is he if he doesn’t recognize his own kid?

“I’ll have you know, I don’t actively encourage lying, nor do I always reward it because not all lies are created equally. Some are necessary,” the demon cajoled, a smirk pulling at his lips. He adopted a high-pitched voice. “'Honey, is my ass wide?’”—his tone dropped lower—“‘No, dear. It looks perfect.’ That’s always the correct answer, even if a lie. But people get so caught up in black or white, they sometimes ignore the gray. The middle section that sits between choices, which is neutral.”

“Neutral?” he scoffed. “You don’t seriously expect me to believe that load of shit.”

“Of course not. I am the Devil, after all. Personally, I always say you haven’t lived unless you’ve sinned. Many sins feel soooo good,” Lucifer crooned, pure mischief in his gaze. “But this is a case of if I don’t fulfill my obligation, then I stand to lose a fair bit. Totally unacceptable. But, thankfully, in the terms of the promise, I found a loophole.”

“Why am I not surprised? And of course, that loophole just happens to involve me.”

“Son.” Lucifer beamed.

It didn’t reassure him at all. “What is it you expect me to do?”

Lucifer crooked his finger. “Come close, and I’ll tell you.”

Chris didn’t move, yet he still heard the whispered words. Heard what the Devil wanted from him.

“No.” Hell no. He wouldn’t do it.

A smile pulled the Devil’s lips. “You act as if there is a choice. There is none, and to sweeten the deal, if you don’t do this teeny-tiny thing…then that woman you’re so fond of, what’s her name?”

Chris kept his mouth sealed.

A snap of his fingers and Lucifer had it. “Isobel. She and her entire family will be killed and will start their punishment in Hell early.”

“Leave her out of this.” A need to protect her arose despite the fact that she’d abandoned him. He could have handled things a little better. Perhaps not hidden so hard from what he felt for her.

“You want the woman safe, then simply agree to fulfill my obligation to the bet.”

The powerless feeling made him angry, so very, very angry, but Chris also knew he didn’t have a choice. Either he did what Lucifer asked, or Isobel would die. Her dying wasn’t something he could live with.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what? You have to say it for it to be binding.” Lucifer stood with his hands folded, waiting.

Chris’s lips curled. “I will do what you ask, fulfill your part of the bargain you made, so long as you promise to not harm Isobel.”

“What of her family?”

His goodwill extended only so far. “Her family can kiss my ass.”

“There’s the family spirit.” Lucifer held up his hand for a high-five that Chris ignored. “Don’t leave me high and dry.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Such profane defiance. If only you were a daughter, we could have had so much fun.” Lucifer sighed in false regret. “I accept the terms.”

A strange buzz went through Chris, and his eyes widened. “What the fuck was that?”

“The promise we’ve made is binding.”

“But I didn’t sign anything in blood.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Doesn’t matter, boy. There are forces that hear the promises and keep track of them. Words have power. Never forget that.”

“Apparently.” Chris’s lips flattened. “So, when do I have to do this thing?”

“Right now. But we can’t have you going looking like this.” Lucifer shook his head. “Unbelievable that a son of mine could be so lacking in fashion sense. But don’t worry. I have a tailor who can set you up.”

Could this tailor help him escape the fate Lucifer had in store for him?

A fate that would guarantee he would never win Isobel back.

Like fuck.

I am the Antichrist. Surely there’s a way for me to be with the woman I love.