Page 74 of Cry for Help

“I was dying in that cell.” He continued. “You felt it, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I did.” I admitted. There was no point lying.

“You’rethe reason I didn’t die in that cell.” Murmur pressed.

“Yes.” I went to rub my hand over my mouth but stopped when I remembered my lipstick. “I claimed you. It helped with your pain. Then, I claimed everything else. But I claimed you first.”

Murmur nodded as if confirming something, but he turned on his heel and left before I could say another word.

If I were to imagine a demonic summit with genuine kings and queens of Hell, I would picture a round table, castle walls, and chalices made of human bones.

Not a conference room in an upmarket hotel, with a strange landline phone in the middle of the table.

I was thankful the cameras had only extended to the hotel's front door.

Stolas, Murmur, Malphas, and Caim, stood at my back like a wall of guards, affecting a strange, nonchalant but murderous impression.

Before we even sat down, I recognized Asmodeus, her magic like a heady perfume.

It was easier to ignore now, but I felt it lick my skin like an eager puppy trying to gain a foothold.

Asmodeus sat on the office chair at the end of the table, her legs swinging over the chair's arms. She threw her head back and laughed at something I didn’t hear.

I followed her gaze to another demon I hadn’t seen before. A nondescript man in a pin-striped suit. Unremarkable in every way, save for the mountain of food in front of him.

If there was a brand of fast food to exist, it was probably in that pile somewhere.

The king of Gluttony.

It had to be.

Despite the sheer amount of food, he took delicate bites, wiping his fingers with a napkin before he turned to greet us with a tilt of his head.

Someone else sat in the corner, but my eyes couldn’t find purchase on them even if I knew they were there.

I ignored them, confident I could protect myself if they tried something.

Stolas made a point of pulling out my chair and helping me get into my seat. Based on the looks of the demons at the table, Stolas’s actions meant more than they appeared.

Though the demons hadn’t gone all out like me. I felt like a little girl playing dress-up.

“Madeleine Speck.” Asmodeus sang, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she faced me. “Defeater of the Behemoth.”

“He’s not dead.” I signed.

Caim relayed the message.

The other demon chuckled. “He might as well be.”

“Beezlebub!” Asmodeus chided. “That’s what happens when you don’t care for your toys.”

“He was a relic.” Beezlebub waved his hand. “If I could have gotten rid of him, I would have.”

Asmodeus mashed her lips together, but she said nothing.

Beezlebub met my eyes. “The Behemoth was an inherited problem. I am of Hell. I was made in Hell, knitted together from the threads of Sin. The one you know as God made the Behemoth. She has a habit of making beasts. He couldn’t take my kingdom, though he tried. I believe that is why he consumed so many of your kin. The Sídhe. He wanted to turn this city into his own circle of Hell.”

“I understand.” I signed.

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