Page 35 of Cry for Help

If the demons had bought me to clean, I was going to damn well clean!

I let myself into the first room at the end of the hallway, opposite the guest bedroom. I’d never seen any of my roommates coming or going from the doors, but at first glance, I would have had to guess that the room belonged to Caim.

Mainly because of the silk ropes draped over the boxy metal bedframe, which was built almost like a four-poster cage.

My cheeks burned, but I kept my eyes down as I picked up the clothes off the floor and stuffed them into the nearest grocery store bag. The mess was confined to their rooms; it seemed they weren’t just psycho-clean demons with a penchantfor organization.

I collected Caim’s laundry and put on a load before I snuck back in to poke around. I wouldn’t lie and say I had innocent intentions—I wanted to find something. Blackmail dirt. I needed knowledge about potential weaknesses like a vampire/stakes situation or a journal detailing how they planned to sacrifice me at the next full moon.

I wanted to know their motivations. Their inner workings.

Most of all, I wanted to know why four demons had bought a silent human and then hadn’t even bothered to collar me and make me their love slave.

Judging by the silk scarves on Caim’s headboard, the idea would probably appeal to him.

I wouldn’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about it. I’d been in prison for ten years. I wasn’t a virgin by any means—sex was great leverage to get things you want—but my body had changed. I wasn’t a thin teenager anymore with perky boobs. I was a grown woman with stretch marks and a bit of a belly. Which I often told myself I could get rid of if I tried.

I checked his drawers, but when I failed to find the nuclear codes or a detailed treasure map, I left Caim’s room.

He would already know I’d been in there—he didn’t need to know I’d seen his lubricant drawer in all its glory or the dildo that I could only describe as...Demonic.

The demons came home as the sun began to set. Though they greeted me as they filtered into the kitchen looking worse for wear, they failed to address the elephant in the room--theirabsence.

I wanted to know. Did they have jobs? A regular 9 to 5.

Murmur had said they were no longer connected to Hell, but I had no idea what thatmeant.

I had so many questions, but Murmur had already humored me.

At least I had an answer to the statue question.

I worried that if I started asking too many questions, I’d be gone faster than I could sign ‘Bye!’.

“I want ravioli,” Malphas said by way of greeting.

I’d searched the kitchen on my cleaning journey that morning and hadn’t found any tinned ravioli in the cupboard. I would have clocked it because, besides cheese, my next biggest weakness was pasta. Which my mother had found hilarious, considering our Irish roots.

I had no idea if Malphas had made a deal with Caim for ASL or if he would even want to speak to me, so I remained silent.

Malphas pulled out a weird crank, which I identified as a homemade pasta machine.Homemade pasta.

Malphas caught my look. “Ravioli okay with you?”

I couldn’t nod fast enough.

“I don’t know why you insist on eating,” Stolas grumbled as he sat at the kitchen island. “We may not be what we once were, but we don’t need to eat. Not like...” Stolas caught my eye, his lips pressing together as he bit back whatever word he planned to use.

Humans or animals would have been my guess.

Searching for a way to cut the tension, I lifted my hands and signed.

“How was your day?”

Caim, who had been curiously silent until that point, burst out laughing. He pressed his fist to his mouth and bentover, seemingly unable to speak because of his hilarity.

“Stolas was put in acage.” Malphas snapped as he pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. “It’s not funny. It could have happened to any of us. You, me... Even Murmur.”

“I like a good cage.” Caim waggled his brows.

---