going to give you his sales pitch." I gasped when I felt a sucker punch in the stomach. I looked down. Nothing there, but Spyte blew on his fist, like maybe he'd done it with the power of his thoughts. As if a little pain could stop me. But he sent me a mental message to watch my mouth or I could be a statue in a heartbeat. Okay, I got that.
"Sales pitch? I have resisted the best saleswomen in the world, you dung-heap dweller!" Flo stalked up to Caryon and had the nerve to poke him in his chest with a copper-lacquered nail. "I have listened to them claim I looked good in chiffon poofs. Hah! You think I didn't know better? Poofs on my butt? 'Try them,' they said. 'Exquisite.' Unloading last year's rejects. I see through that. And I see through you."
"But I see through you, dear lady." Caryon ignored Flo's finger stabbing and grinned at me. "Such spirit. Such fire. She will soon be Lucifer's favorite."
I started to say something but Spyte hit me again, a real stomach burner, and I gasped, breathless and speechless.
"Oh, yes, all your dreams will come true, dear lady." Caryon sighed. "Just think for a minute."
"What are you talking about? I have everything I ever dreamed of. A wonderful husband, a new house with the most magnificent closet - " Flo grabbed my arm. "Glory, I didn't tell you. While we were gone, Ricardo had the bedroom next to the master made into this closet. It is a dream. All organized and filled with my things. Magnifico!"
"Yes, Glory, you really should see it." Spyte danced around the room, finally landing right in front of Flo. "It even has a three-way mirror at one end. So the lady of the house can see herself from every angle." He pulled a face. "Except the designer didn't know that this lady can't see a damned thing, can she, Florence?"
"What a shame." Caryon studied the polish on his brown wingtip shoes. His suit was a cream silk, his tie a brown, peach and silver work of art. "And that meant you left the house tonight with a thread dangling loose on the back of your skirt."
"No!" Flo twisted, trying to see what Cary was talking about. "Glory, look, is there . . . ?"
"How do you know what's in her house?" Suddenly I was allowed to speak.
"Basic research, Glory dear." Cary inspected his perfectly manicured nails. "I can describe the homes of all of your nearest and dearest. Right down to whether their toilet paper rolls over or under."
"Glory, please. Is there a thread?" Flo grabbed my arm.
This time my stomach heaved without Spyte's help. Demons spying on all my friends? Flo's nails dug into my skin so I glanced and, sure enough, a thread stuck out from the center back seam.
"Yes." I sighed. "Sorry, Flo. I can't pull it or it might damage the fabric, make it pucker."
"I am not perfetto!" Her eyes filled.
"Of course you're not. How can you be when you can't ever see the total picture?" Caryon smiled, never letting his true ugly nature show. "Look at me. I'm wearing a custom-tailored Italian suit. My suit, my tie, every part of my outfit is perfectly fitted and coordinated. And, of course, my hair is just right. I hate to tell you, but the back of your updo is a giant don't." This time his smile showed just a hint of fang.
"What? Glory?" Flo put frantic fingers to the back of her hair.
"Okay, Cary, cut it out. When she got here, her hair was fine. You obviously messed with it." I could see that, yes, he'd done a number on her hair, turning it into a rat's nest. "Relax, Flo, you can fix it."
"Stop torturing me." Flo's lips quivered. "I will never help a demon. I am good. My husband is a saint. There is no way I can work for the Devil. Go away."
"Of course. No problem." Spyte pointed at the full-length mirror on the back of the door and Flo shrieked.
Suddenly, she could see herself, from head to toe. "Mio Dio. Is it me, Glory?"
"Yes, Flo." I glared at Spyte. "What's up? Why are you doing this? I told you to leave my friends alone."
"And we obey you because?" Spyte laughed. "Come on, this one looks like an easy takedown."
Flo was busy with her purse, reapplying her lipstick, fussing with her eyebrows and straightening her hair. She leaned closer to