Page 39 of Cry for Help

I chuffed a silent laugh but took her phone, eying the device and wondering if I even knew how to use it.

“Party?” She prompted, her brows raised.

I typed.

Aimee shuddered. “You don’t want to go to that party. Behem is bad news.”

Aimee looked over her shoulder as if expecting Behem to pop up out of nowhere. When no one appeared, she closed her eyes, shaking her head to clear it.

She held out her hand, and I gave her the phone. She opened an app and turned the screen to face me. A strange colored diagram filled the screen.

“This is the Red City.” Aimee declared. “Those rings are the walls, and those green bits surrounding the city are the ‘estates.’ Only demons with powerandmoney get to live in those mansions. Demons with whole-ass courts and servants. Demons with connections.”

Like Mammon and Zagan. She didn’t say it, but I filled in the gaps.

“Behem isn’t really aknowndemon.” Aimee continued. “It's not a name that appears in the Demonica or the Key of Solomon.”

I needed those books, like yesterday.

“But Behem has a mansion,” Aimee said solemnly. “That means power. And if there is one thing I know, it’s that demons don’t hide their power. They just don’t use it unless they need to. Other demons avoid Behem. He doesn’t leave Gluttony, and his name gets auto-corrected from any texts we send outside the city. Gluttony is bad news in this Red City. Most other cities no longer have a district for that sin. Too many drugs and too muchcrime.”

None of that sounded good.

Darla was still in the shower, and Caim was curiously absent when Stolas appeared from his room dressed as a Victorian gentleman ready to attend a ball.

His hat was tall and stiff, his pocket square was made of silk, and the tails of his jacket reached his knees. A single brooch with an owl’s jeweled face was clipped to the band of his hat.

Though he looked better than I’d ever seen him, his hair combed back. His eyes were lined with kohl. Somehow, a stormcloud had settled over Stolas, and he was apparently attending Behem’s party at knifepoint.

Or at least as a favor to Seir.

Surely, my clothes weren’t worththatmuch. If Behem was as bad as Aimee made out.

Maybe Stolas knew about the link between Gluttony and the drugs in the city already. However, I only had Aimee’s gossip to go on.

I wanted to ask Stolas more questions, but his mind was clearly elsewhere as he stood in the hallway and fixed his cufflinks.

Malphas emerged from the kitchen, his blond hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “Dinner’s in twenty.” He called out.

Stolas wrinkled his nose. “Really? Must you indulge in human food?”

“I put a lot of work into these ravioli.” Malphas put his hand on his hip. “Plus, I wasn’t talking to you. I’m talking to theone person in this house who appreciates a good meal.”

“The human in the house that needs food for sustenance?” Stolas quirked a brow, his tone dry.

Malphas waved a hand at Stolas as if warding away a bad smell.

Murmur appeared a moment later. “That Darla gives me the creeps.” He shot Aimee an apologetic look, and I’d honestly forgotten she was there.

“Maddie, you live with four demons?” Her eyes rounded. “Are you all, like,Poly?”

I had no idea what that meant.

None of the demons dignified her with an answer.

“Where’s Caim?” Stolas said. “I’m ready to go to Behem’s.”

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