463 Kindred Spirits

Satan stood at the door, holding a heavy brown paper bag filled with groceries, looking every bit composed. Emily was surprised—why was he here?

Bert, drying his hair, noticed her hesitation. "Who is it?"

“…It’s Vincent.”

Bert’s face lit up. “Vincent’s here? Why aren’t you letting him in? ”

Bert pushed past Emily, opening the door eagerly. When he saw Satan, he broke into a broad smile, his face wrinkling with joy. “Come in, come in! You bought a lot of things! You should have called; I’d have had Emily go down and meet you.”

Satan smiled, respectful as ever. “No need, it’s not much.”

“Not much? This must weigh at least thirty pounds! And you’re not fully recovered yet. It must be freezing outside. Does your throat hurt?”

Satan, wearing a pair of black leather gloves, stood in the warmth of the room, the gloves quickly gathering condensation.

“Emily, get Vincent a cup of hot water,” Bert urged. “He’s probably caught a chill outside; let him warm up a bit.”