Page 71 of Insatiable

“What...what are you all doing here?” Twila asks, wide-eyed and visibly shaken. “Oh shit! You found a way past the Hellbeast?”

Ro nods, her weariness showing. “We made it, Twila.”

“Fuck shit,” Twila mutters under her breath, grabbing Ro’s arm and pulling her back toward the group. “You can’t be here.”

I’m beyond exhausted and in no mood for this. “Well, we are.”

Twila shakes her head, panic creeping across her face. It hits me that for all the time I spent obsessing over getting down to Avarice, I never stopped to think about what would happen once we arrived.

“They will cremate you,” she hisses. “No one gets past Satan’s guards and walks away. Do you think this is a game?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Yes, actually, I do. This whole shitshow has been a game since we stepped foot into Hell. It’s literally called the Inferno Games, so yeah. I think it’s a game.”

“And we’re crushing it,” Tate adds, smirking. “So what if we broke a few rules? That last trial had a murderer chasing us down and decapitating people. Nobody in here follows the rules.”

Twila’s face hardens, her terror replaced with frustration. “This isn’t just a broken rule,” she snaps. “You’ve done the one thing no one should ever do. You’ve got one over on Satan.”

“Fucking great!” I say, throwing my arms in the air. “Maybe we’ll get a medal.”

Twila narrows her eyes, clearly about to fire off a retort when the door to the demon’s lounge opens again. In a split second, despite her petite frame, she manages to shove us all toward the elevator. She slams the call button with such force that I half expect it to break.

When the doors slide open, Twila ushers us inside. A tense silence hangs in the air, only broken when the elevator doors open again. “Where are we?” Ro asks, peering out.

“It’s the Earthery floor,” Twila says, her voice low and tense. “Stay close, act inconspicuously, and don’t say a word until I tell you to.”

Dade doesn’t move, his eyes locked on her with a simmering intensity. “Take me to Quinn. Now!”

Twila spins around to face him, her patience thinning. “Not now. I’m taking you to get something to eat while we figure this mess out. I need some time to think.”

His jaw clenches, unmoving. “I swore to protect her, and I couldn’t. I’m not stepping out of this elevator until I know I can see Quinn.”

Twila’s expression softens just a fraction. “Quinn is fine. She’s safely in bed. It’s not Quinn you need to worry about right now. But if you try to fly up there, I can’t stop whatever consequences might come your way. The safest thing for you to do is come with me.”

Dade presses his hand against the elevator door, holding it open, his anger and despair almost palpable. I feel it too—the desperate need to see Quinn, to see Felix. But if we push too hard, we might lose everything. I lean in closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “Quinn will never forgive you if you get yourself killed. We’ve waited for days. We can wait another hour.”

He growls low in his throat, but after a long, agonizing pause, he steps out of the elevator. The tension in the air shifts slightly, allowing me to follow him out. As I step onto the marble floor inlaid with gold, I hold my breath. Beside me, Ro whispers, “Wow,” under her breath. It’s clear this is the Earthery floor—the layout is the same as on the other levels—but here, it feels like stepping into the lobby of an exclusive hotel. A demon in a red uniform with gold braiding stands behind a sleek desk, lookingoddly attentive for a change. Usually, the Earthery attendants seem bored.

We follow Twila as she walks quickly, and I can’t help but be swept away by the grandeur around us. Towering columns rise on either side, and the arched ceilings are adorned with intricate gold detailing. We’re moving past rows of shops and bars, but they’re unlike anything I’ve seen in Hell before. Inferno’s bar is in its usual spot, but a quick glance inside reveals rich mahogany paneling, gleaming gold accents, and the warm, inviting glow of a massive chandelier overhead. The scent of polished wood and expensive cologne fills the air—but then my nose catches something else. Food!

Many of the shops we pass feature the most delectable fashions, but we breeze past a patisserie, a boulangerie, and something that looks like an exclusive market. The sight of them makes my stomach churn with longing.

"I hope for Twila’s sake there’s food wherever she’s taking us,” I whisper as Ro drags me past a shop with a chocolate fountain in the window. “Otherwise, I might have to resort to eating her.”

Tate turns her head and raises an eyebrow, clearly having heard me.

Luckily, Twila saves me from dealing with my runaway mouth by stopping at the Brimstone Bistro. It’s like coming back to an old friend. It didn’t even exist in Gluttony, because there was no need for restaurants in a place that doesn’t have food.

We follow Twila inside. She holds her finger to her lips, signaling us to keep quiet. It’s not my mouth making noise. My stomach is starting to sound like bongo drums to Ro’s stomach percussion. The smell is enough to break a woman. It smells like nothing on Earth and yet I know whatever it is, I want it. I want lots of it.

“I need the VIP suite,” Twila says to the concierge with a level of confidence that takes me by surprise. “Make sure no one bothers us. And have a waiter bring us four plates of the special of the day and a couple of bottles of wine.”

I blink, trying to reconcile this commanding presence with the timid Twila I used to know. Where did she go? I guess fucking a literal Hell God has done wonders for her self-esteem.

The room at the back is so dark, I’m barely able to find a seat on the deep red velvet couch that runs along the length of a huge mahogany table. I don’t know how they did it, but there’s already place settings for four on the table. Even more amazingly, four plates of food, piping hot, at each place setting. "You may as well eat before they kill you all," Twila says, sliding into the head of the table—a chair that can only be described as a throne. I look around at the opulence, feeling like I’ve stumbled into the realm of royalty. So this is how the other half lives. Tate throws some of the meat from her plate to each of Cerby’s heads. I grimace as they lap it up, drool dripping from each of them. I glance at Twila, who isn’t bothering with a plate. I guess she’s already eaten—or maybe she’s just too preoccupied with our impending doom. Not that I care. My stomach’s about to crawl out of my throat if I don’t eat soon.

The moment the food touches my tongue, I let out a contented sigh. It's a thin slice of meat, though I wouldn’t be able to tell you what animal it came from, even for a million dollars. Whatever it is, it's like an edible orgasm. As if on cue, Tate lets out a low grown which is nothing short of sexual, sending my stomach flipping again, but this time not because of the food.

I can’t look at her. I don’t want to. I have enough going on without adding my sexuality into the mix.

---