Page 12 of Devil's Advocate
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my mouth.I realized this man was attracted to me, and it hit me like a train.He didn’t understand it, probably didn’t even have a word for it yet, but there it was in the way his pupils widened, the way he couldn’t look at my mouth for more than a heartbeat before flicking his gaze away.
And damn if that didn’t make my pulse jump.
I leaned back, watching him squirm under the weight of his own confusion.“That’s a good question,” I breathed.“And you’re not the first to ask it.”
His fingers toyed with the coffee spoon.“I just always thought Satan was… you know.Evil.”
“Of course you did,” I said gently.“Most people do.You were taught that from the cradle, right?Satan as the great deceiver.The enemy.The source of original sin.”
Jimmy nodded.
“But here’s the thing.”I wrapped my hands around the mug, letting the steam warm my palms.“If you actually go back to the text—the story starts with a question, doesn’t it?Not an act of rebellion, not some war in heaven.Just a serpent asking Eve, ‘Did God really say…?’”
He blinked, listening.
“That moment wasn’t evil.It was curiosity.It was the first spark of thought—the refusal to take someone else’s word as law.The serpent didn’t hand Eve damnation, Jimmy.He handed her knowledge.And knowledge is dangerous only to those who depend on ignorance.”
His eyes widened a little, like he’d never heard it put that way.
“Think about it,” I continued.“Every time someone in history has asked a forbidden question—why the earth moves, why the church has power, or why love between two people should be condemned—it’s been branded Satanic.Because the people who benefit from control can’t stand truth that doesn’t kneel at their feet.”
Jimmy’s voice was soft.“You make it sound like Satan’s the good guy.”
I smiled.“Not good, not bad.Just honest.Satan’s a symbol.A mirror.He represents the voice that says Think for yourself, even if it costs you.The first rebel wasn’t trying to destroy humanity, Jimmy.He was trying to wake it up.”
Daisy slid two plates between us—eggs, grits, bacon—and refilled our coffee without comment.I waited until she walked away before I went on.
“People fear that idea because freedom’s messy.No commandments, no safety net.You have to own your choices.That’s what our ceremonies are about—not worshiping evil, but embracing responsibility.Compassion without guilt.Desire without shame.Truth without someone else’s permission.”
Jimmy’s fork hovered over his plate.“Desire without shame,” he repeated under his breath, as if tasting the words.
“Exactly.”
He looked up, meeting my eyes.His throat worked as he swallowed.“But if that’s true, why use the name Satan at all?”
I smiled, slow and deliberate.“Because language has power.If you can take the most feared name in history and turn it into a symbol of liberation, you’ve already stolen fire from heaven.You’ve already won.”
His gaze didn’t leave mine.There was heat now, confusion warring with fascination.I could practically feel the air tighten between us.
I leaned forward, elbows on the table.“Tell me, Jimmy.If knowledge is evil, what does that make ignorance?”
Jimmy didn’t answer.His lips parted, his breath shallow.
“Exactly.”I let the smile widen.“Maybe the actual devil isn’t the one asking questions.Maybe he’s the one who punishes you for having them.”
We ate in companionable silence for a while, forks scraping plates, the smell of bacon clinging to the air.Daisy refilled our mugs again and winked at me before moving on.
“So,” I said finally, “what are you really researching, Jimmy?”
He blinked.“Alternative faiths.”
“And?”
He hesitated, color rising in his cheeks again.“And… people, I guess.Why they believe what they do.”
“Fair answer.”I tilted my head.“Just make sure you include yourself in the study.”
He looked up sharply.“What do you mean?”
