Prom Nights From Hell Page 0,72

make you as stupid as a birdbrain," Sheba mumbled under her breath.

"Sheba, don't underestimate the angels," Jezebel chastised. "You don't mess with them-you hear? Even a strong middle demon like me knows better than to lock horns with the feather-backs. They steer clear of us, and we steer clear of them. Let the Demon Lords deal with the angels."

"I know that, Jezebel. I wasn't spawned this decade."

"Sorry. I'm being helpful again." She shuddered. "I just get so frustrated sometimes! Goodness and light on every side!"

Sheba shook her head. "I don't see that. Misery is everywhere."

"Happiness is, too, sis. It's all over the place," Jezebel said sadly.

It was silent for a long moment as Jezebel's words lingered in the air. The sticky breeze washed across Sheba's skin. Miami was no hell, but it was comfortable at least.

"Not at my prom!" Sheba retorted with sudden fierceness.

Jezebel smiled widely-her teeth were black as the night sky. "That's just it-that's why I'm being so un-damnedly helpful. Because we need demonesses like you out there. We need the worst we can get on the front lines. Let the Liliths of the underworld mess around with petty tricks. Get me the Shebas on my side. Get me a thousand Shebas. We'll win this fight once and for all."

Sheba considered that for a moment, weighing the fierce purpose in Jezebel's voice. "That's evil in such a strange way. It almost sounds like good."

"Twisted, I know."

They laughed together for the first time.

"Well, get back in there and destroy that prom."

"I'm on it. Go to hell, Jezebel."

Hell on Earth Chapter Five

"Thanks, Sheeb. Back at you."

Jezebel winked once, and then smiled wider until the black of her teeth seemed to envelop her entire face. She evaporated into the night.

Sheba lingered in the dirty alley until the alluring scent of brimstone had faded away entirely, and then break time was over. Invigorated by the idea of joining the front lines, Sheba hurried back to her misery.

The prom was in full swing, and everything was falling into place.

Celeste was scoring high in her malicious game; she awarded herself a point for every girl who cried in a dark corner of the ballroom. Two points for every boy who threw a punch at a rival.

All over the room, the seeds Sheba had planted were flowering. Hate was blooming alongside lust and rage and despair. A garden straight from hell.

Sheba enjoyed it all from behind a potted palm.

No, she couldn't force the humans to do anything. They had their innate free will, and so she could only tempt, could only suggest. Little things-high heels and seams and minor muscle groups-she could manipulate physically, but she could never force their minds. They had to choose to listen. And tonight, they were listening.

Sheba was on a roll, and she didn't want any loose ends, so before she turned back to her most ambitious scheme-Cooper was pliant with intoxication now, ready for her direction-she sent her thoughts searching through the crowd for those small, annoying bubbles of happiness.

No one was walking away from this prom unscathed. Not while Sheba had a spark in her body.

Over there-what was this? Bryan Walker and Clara Hurst were staring dreamily into each other's eyes, totally oblivious to the wrath and despair and bad music surrounding them, just enjoying each other's company.

Sheba considered her options and decided to have Celeste interfere. Celeste should enjoy that-nothing was more evilly fun than flaunting your power right in the face of a pure romance. Besides, Celeste listened to every suggestion Sheba fed her, entirely agreeable to any demonic scheme.

Sheba continued with her evaluation before acting.

Not too far away, Sheba found that she'd dropped the ball in an inexcusable fashion. Was that her own date, Logan, actually enjoying himself? Impossible. So, he'd found his Libby after all and they were both unacceptably happy. Well, that would be easy enough to rectify. She'd go reclaim her partner and send Libby running away in tears. Amateur and crude to intervene bodily... Still, better that than let happiness win even one small battle.

Sheba's assessment was almost done. There was just one more tiny pocket of peace-not a couple this time; it was a lone boy wandering into the far end of the room from the hall. That annoying Gabe Christensen.

Sheba scowled in his direction. What did he have to be happy about? He was rejected and alone. His date was the scourge of the prom. A normal boy would be full of rage or pain right now. But he