Page 42 of Cry for Help

I was woefully inexperienced when it came to parties. Unless you classed gathering prisoners when a new batch of hooch was brewed, or high school parties where the only source of entertainment seemed to be spin the bottle, or seventh heaven.

Thinking back on my teenage years, many parties centered around kissing. I doubted demons participated in anything so pedestrian.

We rode the elevator up to the penthouse. The mirrored walls reflected my pale face back at me. The way my long dark hair tangled at the back and skin had taken on an almost sickly hue.

Caim was dressed as if he was ready for prom. His suit was at odds with his young, bright smile and the curly hair around his curved horns.

Malphas wore a deep burgundy silk shirt and leather pants, his expression bored as he stared into the distance like a brooding prince. It was as if attending a party with a literal demonic king was just another average day. Honestly? Malphas had seemed more excited about making pasta by hand than rubbing shoulders with the upper-crust of the Red City.

Aimee and Darla spoke in low, excited voices, growingquieter but no less fevered as the elevator rose to the top of the building.

Finally, with an ancient bell toll, the doors opened, directly into a room the size of my high school’s old auditorium. A room that must have taken up the whole top floor of the building. Packed to the brim with people dressed like birds of paradise, flocking together as they chatted and drank.

If it wasn’t for every hair on my body rising, like I was being watched, and my ears popping uncomfortably, I probably wouldn’t have immediately pegged any of the people milling about as demons.

There was a collection of faces, from plain to outright disturbing, too angular or soft. I didn’t recognize anyone, though I hadn’t expected to. The only demons I’d seen, aside from Stolas, Caim, Malphas, and Murmur, were at the auction—and even then, their faces had been hidden in shadow.

Malphas placed his hand on the small of my back, steadying me. The gesture was small, but it felt like everything. A life-raft in a sea of tumult. I sagged, finding my body moving before my brain caught up, as I leaned back into Malphas.

Aimee and Darla strode forward with all the confidence of people who regularly attended parties in strange and luxurious locations. They seemed to fit in immediately, disappearing into the sea of people with glittery short dresses and perfectly made-up faces.

Caim’s eyes lit up as he spotted one of the tables. “Champagne fountain!” He declared, clapping his hands like an excited child, before racing off into the fray, swallowed by the crowd.

Malphas rolled his eyes, holding out his hand as he stepped to my side. “All the wisdom of the universe in that empty head.” He waved a hand to where Caim had disappeared. “At least I can trust you to keep me company, Maddie.” He offeredme a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You don’t have another option.” I signed, looping my arm through his elbow to leave my hands free to speak. “I’m not leaving your side. Mal. This isn’t my idea of fun.”

“Mal.” His lip ticked with a smile as he caught my slip. “I take it there weren’t many parties in prison then?”

“None that I would want to attend. Plus, prisoners tend to call them riots. Not parties.”

Malphas chuckled. “No harm in instigating a good riot.”

“Only a demon would say that.”

“Dischord and chaos.” He agreed readily. “Though I don’t have the power I used to, I bet I could make everyone in this room flee to the stairwell.”

“Trying to get me alone?” I joked. “What is… or was your power?”

“I’m very persuasive.” Malphas plucked a champagne glass from a server's tray and pressed it into my hand. I sniffed the rim of the glass before taking a sip. “I have no idea why Caim wants to drink from a fountain. Those things are riddled with other people’s fluids.”

“Somehow, I don’t think other people’s bodily fluids bother Caim much.”

“Caught that, did you?”

I wrapped both hands around my glass and lifted it to my lips so I couldn’t reply.

A trickle of music rolled through the air, and I tapped my foot, swaying to the unfamiliar song. Malphas stood by my side, grabbing his own glass of champagne when the server came back around. We stood together, backs to the wall, like two awkward best friends at the prom. The last two people without partners, as everyone else coupled off to dance.

“Caim hasn’t come back yet.” Malphas hummed, sipping his champagne. “I swear, he has the attention span of a goldenretriever.”

“When is Mammon meant to get here?” I asked. Malphas glanced at me, and I shrugged, my cheeks turning pink. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“It’s rare for Hell Royalty to come to the Human Realities,” Malphas admitted. “They cannot leave Hell for long. About an hour per daylight cycle. Otherwise, the dimension doesn’t like it. Earthquakes, storms, that kind of thing.”

“How do demons become royalty?” I wondered.

“Hell decides.” Malphas shrugged.

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