~ Chapter Fifteen ~

Belial was a good caretaker, if she did say so herself.

She should have definitely been a good mother, she thought while brushing through little Jo's hair for the second time that day. It seemed to her that she might've been, had it not been for the fact that she and her deceased husband hadn't been, oh, demons. The idea had come to her mind several times throughout their lovely marriage, Azazel being fully agreeable on the topic of raising their own wonderfully evil, demonic family. There were some rules in Hell about that though, and those in high ranks promptly squashed their desire.

Now, she entertained the idea of transforming Miss Jo into her perfect demon child, though she wouldn't have much assistance in the actual act of doing so. She shrugged it off in favor of placing her attention upon the fact that Jo wouldn't eat or drink anything they offered her and wouldn't dare touch the small mountain of toys and trinkets for her to play with. The monkeys had been ordered to specially find those toys and bring them here with as little fuss as possible, and they were precious, as far as Belial understood. They were the toys she would have adored growing up: dolls with porcelain faces and silky clothing and a dollhouse with smaller dolls and pieces of furniture inside amongst others in the expressly created stash.

The longer Jo sat in silence, letting herself be ordered about to play or come close so her hair could be brushed again, the dimmer the little girl's eyes became, the paler her skin and the more fragile she seemed overall. This was particularly concerning, seeing as Belial wanted the Winchesters to find their baby girl in better condition than they had ever seen her, just to make their lives that much more miserable before their throats were sliced open. That punishment was reserved for any accomplices they might have, though Belial would never share the delicious plan she had in store for Dean.

"Will you play with me?" The child's soft voice suddenly rang out, jostling her out of her bloody daydream. Jo held a deck of playing cards in the palm of her hands, covering the bandaged wound on the one hand.

"Of course, my dear." Belial grinned and gestured for Jo to pull up her short chair beside her throne-like.

Jo did as she was told, dragging the dinky wooden chair behind her in a way that caused it to screech a bit on the wood floor. It was more like a small student's desk and this was where the little girl set down her deck of cards.

"What game are we playing, Miss Jo?"

"Go Fish."

Belial wasn't sure whether the child's solemn, unsmiling expression was funnier than the game she had chosen or whether it was the other way around. It would be the only game a child knew how to play.

"Do you know how to play?" Jo's eyes glittered a bit, though they were still hovering between grey and the desirable silvery blue.

Belial nodded, understanding the basic concept of the child's game. "Give me my cards, dear."

"Wait."

Wait? For what?

Jo looked positively determined about something and wasn't that just precious. "I want a trade."

"A trade?" The conflicting desires to burst out laughing and to snarl at the insolent little girl bubbled up in her chest.

"Uh-huh. If I win, you have to let me go home."

Interesting. "And if I win?"

Jo hesitated in her answer, but she seemed sure enough when she finally responded. "Then I'll stay."

"Fair enough. We have a deal, young lady." She held out a long, slender hand to shake with; Jo took it eagerly, and if Belial didn't know better, she might've guessed that a smile just passed over her face before dealing out the cards. Six for her, six for Jo.

Jo took her turn first, upon Belial's request and inquired whether she had any eights. She had one and gave it to her. She then asked the same question, wanting her damn eight back.

"You can't do that."

"And why not?"

"Because it's cheating. You can only ask for cards when you have one in your hand."

"How do you know I don't have another eight?"

"Do you have another eight?"

"No."

"That's good, because you can't keep cards for yourself if I ask for them."

They went on with the game after this, Jo receiving more of Belial's cards than she liked, and Belial having to pull more cards from the deck than her hand could reasonably hold. The game went on and on like this until they were both out of cards and both participants had created their own individual stacks of four of whichever card they managed to win. Belial had three stacks of four; Jo had the other ten, meaning that Jo was the winner of this game.

"Two out of three." Belial demanded, not wanting to lose the leverage she had on the kid. What in Hell's holy name had she been thinking when she agreed to this?

Jo nodded, shuffled and dealt the cards again, and they went again. Belial won this time, and up until the end result of their third game, she had been feeling rather confident in her ability to keep the child. Jo won the third round and stood up from her chair after they had put the deck back together.

"Thank you," she mumbled before spinning around on her bare heels and taking off towards the open door the room.

Did that really just happen? Did she just lose the only leverage and hope she had been longing to have for so long?

"Boss? The kid says you let her leave?" One of the monkeys was standing in the doorway, his hands tucked behind his back.

She nodded gravely, her eyes flickering between hazel and red for a few moments before she turned her gaze upwards to glare at him. "Let her go, but don't believe for even a moment that she'll get very far before the others walk right into the trap." Her most award-winning, wicked grin graced her lips once more as she stood and began a slow, languid pace around the room. It would only be a matter of time now.