LITMIR.BIZ

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how to do that.”

      “Your succubus does,” he said. “Trust her.”

      The idea of trusting my demon wasn’t comforting, but I complied with a sigh, closing my eyes and ordering my demon to compact my body.

      At first, nothing happened. Then I felt a slight buzzing in my joints, followed by an abrupt plunging sensation, like I’d pressed the ‘down’ button on an express elevator. I opened my eyes just in time to see my head lower about five inches.

      Mr. Clerk clapped his hands, delighted. “Nicely done!”

      I wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at myself. Yes, I’d lost some height, but my weight had remained the same, giving me a nice, round figure. Horrified, I immediately instructed myself to drop twenty pounds. The muscles along my belly and butt pulled tight, momentarily giving me terrific cramps. The results, however, were amazing. Deciding that Mr. Clerk wouldn’t object, I dropped the towel for a really good look. I’d gone from 5’ 6” and 130 pounds to 5’ 2” and 110 pounds. I was nearly as petite as my mother had been.

      I put on my robe and then worked on my facial features. I made my nose a little smaller and my lips a little poutier. I opted for a heart-shaped face that made me look like a pixie. I was even able to adjust the length of my hair, making it shorter in order to add to my elfin appearance.

      “Wonderful! Even William isn’t that adept,” Mr. Clerk said.

      Ha! Take that, William. I narrowed my eyes and smiled, pleased when the pixie in the mirror did the same.

      “Are you sure that I have to wear those clothes you brought?” I asked. It seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good new look on a cheap halter and a pair of Daisy Dukes.

      “Yes. They’re perfect for tonight.” He made little shooing motions with his hands. “Go ahead. Try them on.”

      Grumbling, I pulled on the tight jean shorts and halter top. Even in my shrunken state, the shorts were so tiny they nearly showed off the bottoms of my butt cheeks. And the cotton halter was so poorly made that it wouldn’t sit right on my body no matter how much I tugged on it. “Where did you get this stuff?”

      “Not every job requires designer fashions,” he said. “You need to dress like the people you’ll be meeting.”

      “I look trashy.”

      “Not quite yet, but you will.” And when he told me what I had to do next, I argued with him for nearly ten minutes. He held firm until, at last, I caved in and gave him what he wanted. When my demon finished, I looked over my shoulder in the mirror, chasing my back end like a dog chases its tail as I tried to get a look at my tattoo: a pair of feathery wings with a flowery wreath in the center. It lay far down on my back, just above the low rise of the shorts.

      “My very own tramp stamp,” I said. “I feel so special.”

      “You look like a tart,” he agreed, “but the man will never recognize you.”

      I didn’t even recognize me. The idea was unsettling. Who was I now? Not Lilith Straight, that was for sure.

      “Now about tonight,” Mr. Clerk said. “You are to make sure that your client stays at the bar until it closes. Got it?”

      “Got it.” Once again, I fought with the tank top, willing it to stay put. “I don’t understand how that’s going to make Miss Spry happy, though.”

      Mr. Clerk shook his head. “You’re not seeing the big picture. These little acts may not seem like much, but added together, they can create something darkly wonderful. If a human makes enough wrong decisions or allows more and more breeches in his moral code, his ethics will crumble. I’ve watched saints turn into monsters simply by refusing to listen to a cry for help. One small sin can add fuel to a holocaust.”

      Tommy’s face slipped, unbidden, into my mind’s eye. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t gotten into this conversation.

      “Lilith, I know what you’re thinking.” I glanced at Mr. Clerk’s reflection in the mirror. “But remember, this is all about free will. Even the Devil doesn’t want an automaton. It’s much more fun to capture someone’s soul when they’re begging you to take it.” He patted my arm and then stood. “We have a lot at stake here, Lilith. I don’t want to pressure you, but this job is very important.”

      I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the new me. Looking into the mirror and seeing a total stranger looking back was unsettling. “No pressure. Got it.”

      “You can do this,” Mr. Clerk said before he left. “I have faith in you.”

      At least one of us did.

      Following the directions Mr. Clerk gave me, I passed from one otherworldly corridor to the next until I found myself looking into a redneck roadhouse called The Dirty Duck. Even at eleven o’clock, the place was crowded with Saturday night drinkers. Every table was full, and they were three-deep at the bar. A live band played country music while men and women shuffled through a line dance. There were plenty of cowboy boots and cowboy hats, not to mention John Deere baseball caps. A number of heavy women were stuffed like sausages into the tight casings of their T-shirts. This was not my type of crowd, but at least I’d fit in.

      I still had twenty minutes before the window for temptation opened. I’d arrived ahead of schedule in order to soften my client up before the big moment. No way would I fail this time. After a final tug on the cheap halter, I stepped through the barrier that marked the human realm from the supernatural one. Immediately, the band’s music became deafening, and the smell of fried food nearly clogged my arteries. I edged my way through the crowd, peanut shells crunching under my feet, as I looked for my victim.

      He sat alone on a corner table, several beer bottles scattered in front of him. He’d dressed up for the evening, wearing new jeans and a leather vest over his T-shirt. He looked unhappy.

      Or so I thought until the band finished their song. Several dancers broke away from the lines, and two of them came over to his table. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man, and the other was a curvaceous blonde. She sat on my client’s lap, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. They broke apart just long enough for him to smile and kiss her back.

      I stood and stared like a junior-high kid who had watched her first crush ask out her best friend. Why hadn’t anyone thought to mention that my client already had a girlfriend? Suddenly, my night got a whole lot more complicated.

      The other man at their table drank his beer and tried very hard not to watch my client and his girl making out like a couple of teens in the back row of a movie theater. He glanced wistfully at the single women sitting at the bar, but didn’t approach any of them. He wasn’t bad-looking, but his long face and large teeth made him miss handsome by a long way. He had nice thick hair, though, and a terrific set of biceps that probably came from hard labor rather than working out at a gym. I wasn’t in the market for a man, but if I had been, I could have done worse than my client’s friend.

      Which gave me an idea. If I couldn’t reach my target, I could at least use their third wheel to lever myself inside their cozy circle.

      I walked up to the table and leaned over the friend’s shoulder. “Wannna dance?” My succubus threw off charm like she was Tinkerbell with an armful of pixie dust.

      “Okay…sure!” He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor.

      I was actually a pretty good dancer, but that night, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t make sense of what was going on. The line would zig right, and I’d zag left. When they backed up, I’d go forward instead. Twice, I staggered off the edge of the parquet floor and bumped into one of the tables. Apparently, my inner demon had no sense of rhythm. Either that, or I wasn’t used to the proportions of my new body.

      Luckily, my client’s friend wasn’t the best dancer himself. His body flopped around like an inflatable tube man on a used car lot. But the grin on his face told me that he was enjoying himself.

      Mercifully,

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