ed despite being the Hell-King's
mistress, then Mike surely couldn't keep believing a single contact had
fouled him too badly to touch.

On the other hand, Cortin admitted to herself, that sort of belief
didn't have to have logic behind it, and she wasn't the one who'd felt
Shayan's mind invading hers. How would she have felt if she'd had to
accept the invasion the way Mike had, without resistance, to save
someone else? She and Sis had been able to fight, at least, except for
Sis' compelled welcoming of Shayan's last embrace--and yes, that had
been the worst of the nun's memories, even knowing the welcome had been
compelled. So had Mike's, in a way . . . but his had been
self-compelled, by the knowledge that if he didn't allow the invasion,
he'd be condemning Blackfeather to Hell.

Cortin scowled at that. She'd changed her opinion of Hell, recently.
A place of eternal torment no longer seemed to square at all with the
idea of a just and merciful God. Purgatory still didn't bother her; of
course you'd have to pay for your sins before being admitted to Heaven,
but even the longest and most painful stay there would end in triumph.
Hell didn't end, and if what Mike was suffering was a fair sample, its
torments went beyond any punishment a human could justly deserve.
Even, she thought, the ones she'd sent there believing they did deserve
it. If she had it to do over again, she would, of course; the
sentences she'd carried out were legally mandated, and she'd carried
them out, as required, when she'd satisfied herself she'd gotten all a
subject's useful information. Terrorists were a cancer on society and
had to be eliminated for its health--but maybe she could use her skill
to persuade them to repent. She could manage a mortal approximation of
Hell, and that, even if it meant some extra time under her hands, was
surely better than an eternity of the real thing! She couldn't do away
with Hell, but she could certainly see that Shayan got as few of her
subjects as possible!

That, however, didn't solve the problem of how to help Mike. The best
possibility, she was convinced, was the emotional unity sex now
included, but his fear of touching made that possibility a remote one.
Still, if she--or Sis, or Betty--could become one with him, show him
that he wasn't fouled . . . but the only way she could think of to
accomplish that was feeding him eroticine, which he wouldn't take
voluntarily, and it wouldn't be right to