Page 143 of Devoted

“No, I’m okay. My brain is being pretty quiet at the moment.” And thank fuck for that. Whatever had happened had exhausted my mind into silence. For now. “Ferry, please continue.”

“Of course. Do tell me to stop if you need me to though.” Was he really the Grim Reaper? He was surely far too kind and polite to have fulfilled that role. Mind you, I was learning that everything I’d once believed was wrong, so I guessed it made sense. “So, how we used compulsion was different. We’d compel the souls into believing they’d escaped Hell. Or, perhaps, never died before. We’d make them think their greatest dreams and wishes had come true. That they were experiencing a happiness better than anything they’d ever felt before.”

That didn’t sound too bad. “And then?”

“And then we’d lift the compulsion.” The shine in Ferry’s eyes dulled. “We’d rip it away, taunting them with what they’d never have. Then we’d torture them with their reality. We’d do it repeatedly, over days. Months even.”

“That’s how you learned to lift compulsions,” Zeke said.

Ferry nodded. “Yes. And, as you saw, it’s an excruciatingly painful process. Fortunately, Sam, you were unconscious. The souls I used to perform it on were not.”

It had been painful? Was that why all my muscles were aching? I glanced over at Zeke. Had he known I was in pain?

From the tense line of his jaw and the distance in his eyes, I was assuming yes.

Sliding my hand into his, I squeezed. “I’m okay, Zeke.”

He blinked, a sad smile forming. “I know. But I’m not sure that’s something I’ll ever forget.”

Someone cleared their throat, breaking the moment between us.

“Sorry,” Ferry said sheepishly. “But I want to get back before Leo finishes his shift.”

Leo? Was that his mate?

Zeke nodded for him to continue.

“Normally, the compulsions in themselves were enough torture,” Ferry said. “But occasionally, we’d get a soul who’d have an adverse reaction. It’d start with small tics—pulling at their ears or rubbing at their neck. Then they’d complain about hearing a noise, a humming that no one else could.”

I exchanged a look with Zeke as Ferry described exactly what I’d gone through.

“Eventually, their body would shut down and die. I became curious though, and decided to do some research into why it was happening.”

“Why bother?” Nox asked. “It’s not like anyone stays dead down there. They often ‘die’ while being tortured, then reincarnate.”

Ferry shrugged. “Call it morbid curiosity, or simple boredom. Spending millennia in the same place, doing the same job, you tend to seek out anything that can give you a break from the monotony.”

Millennia?Just how old wasFerry?

A memory flashed through my mind. “I’d say I appear to be thirty-five.”

Appeared to be, not that he was. Which begged the question…

How oldwasZeke?

I added that question to the ever-growing list to ask him when we were alone.

“Anyway, I realised all of the souls had one thing in common,” Ferry looked at me. “They all were either neurodivergent or had a neurological condition.”

“Our brains are fundamentally different,” Benji said from his position in the shadows. “Logically, it stands to reason that compulsion may affect us differently.”

“But we’ve been compelling humans for centuries,” Micah said in horror. “Are you saying we’ve been accidentally murdering some of them?”

“It’s possible,” Ferry said. “But, if it’ll put your mind at ease, the reaction was an extremely rare occurrence. Many souls who had identical conditions did not die, and those who did were directly compelled, rather than affected by a compulsion net.”

Everyone relaxed slightly at that, but I was confused. “What’s the difference?”

“A compulsion net is what we use most frequently,” Zeke explained. “Remember that crane accident a couple of months ago?”

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