Page 1 of The Road to Hell

ChapterOne

LILY

I used to think Hell was working the Monday morning coffee rush. Boy, was I wrong—so painfully wrong.

Hell, as it turned out, was waiting on hold while unholy elevator music blasted through my ear, all because I needed tocancelmyfreakinginternet package. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so, according to Chadwick from Hypernet Solutions. A few moments ago, he’d asked why I wanted to cancel, and I’d frozen. What was I supposed to say? “Oh, well, you see, I’m heading on an extended camping trip into Hell with a vampire who used to be a fallen angel so we can murder Lucifer. Or as I know him, Dad. We have no idea when we’ll be back—if we even survive, that is—and therefore, no longer require internet services.”

Yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to fly.

So instead, I went with the classic deflection option, “Just, uh, some changes in my living situation.”

“Living situation?” Chadwick repeated, his voice the embodiment of corporate politeness. “Would you mind elaborating? Perhaps we have a different package more suited to your needs.”

Oh, Chadwick. Sweet, clueless Chadwick. My “needs” consisted of raising a rebellion strong enough to help me overthrow my father’s tyrannical rule—ideally without suffering any maiming or death this time—and seize Hell’s crown. Which, now that I thought of it, that was one accessory Lucifer had never bothered with. Maybe he found crowns gaudy?

“Ma’am?” Chadwick’s voice cut through my wandering thoughts.

“Right,” I said, shaking off the mental image of my father prancing around in a rhinestone tiara. “Uh, no. Just close the account, please.”

He paused for a moment, then came the faint sound of clicking keys. “We’re sorry to see you go. May I ask which internet provider you’ll be switching to?”

Switching to? I bit back a laugh. Unless my father had come up with his own broadband service—“InfernoNet: Speeds so fast, your fingers will burn”—we would have no need for internet in Hell.

“None at all. I’m going off-grid,” I said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Off-grid,” Chadwick repeated slowly, sounding genuinely baffled. “Well, if you ever decide to return, Hypernet Solutions would be happy to welcome you back.”

I snorted under my breath. Clearly, Chadwick was reading off a script.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I stated drolly.

Before he could launch into his “exclusive returning customer offers” pitch, I hung up and dropped my phone onto the nearby coffee table with a sigh. Across the room, Rathiel leaned against the wall, his perfectly muscled arms crossed over his chest and his piercing gaze fixed on the city lights beyond the balcony door.

“Well, that’s one obstacle handled,” I said, running my hands through my hair. Thankfully, that was the last service I needed to cancel. I’d already unsubscribed from the streaming platforms and cancelled my phone plan. The latter had hurt the most. I hadn’t realized how emotionally attached I’d become to that little rectangular distraction. What if I wanted to snap a dramatic selfie of my brooding fallen-angel-slash-vampire sidekick? Alas. It had to go. Just like everything else I had to leave behind.

Rathiel didn’t respond. In fact, over the past two days, he’d only spoken when absolutely necessary, opting instead to perfect his smoldering silence.

With an annoyed huff, I planted my hands on my hips and studied his profile. The faint glow from the outside streetlights caught the scar along his jawline. It should have made him look less angelic, less perfect. But somehow, the flaw only added to his allure—at least in my eyes. Perhaps because I, myself, wasn’t perfect. Rathiel’s scar was there for the whole world to see, but not mine. I hid them beneath layers of clothing, carved into the flesh of my shoulders and back. The brutal remains of the wings my father had viciously torn off me.

I’d only recently rediscovered that memory. As much as I hated the selective amnesia that still plagued me,thatmemory was one I could have done without. At night, when sleep eluded me, I could feel my father ripping them from my body. I remembered the agony, the terror, the blood.

I cleared my throat and dropped onto the couch. “Still sulking, I see,” I commented, forcing my thoughts to thenowinstead ofthen.

Rathiel half-turned, and his crystalline eyes cut to me, sharp as the blade strapped to his hip. He’d kept the weapon close ever since Zera and Tavira murdered Jack. I’d killed Zera in retribution—burned her alive and severed her head from her body—and Rathiel had taken out Tavira before she could escape. In my eyes, their punishment fit the crime, but killing two of my father’s top generals wouldn’t go unanswered. The others would come for us. Guaranteed.

“I’m not sulking,” Rathiel said, his deep voice lifting the hairs on my arms.

I stretched out on my back and stared at the ceiling. “You look like Batman. All dark and broody, and you’ve got this antihero vibe going on. Very dramatic. Ten out of ten.”

“I don’t know who Batman is,” he replied flatly.

No, he wouldn’t, considering he’d only arrived on Earth about a week ago. And in that time, we’d been too busy dodging my father’s hit squad. I hadn’t exactly found the time to educate him on human pop culture.

“He’s a fictional character who—you know what, never mind. Just trust me. You look like him. Well, minus the armored bat costume.”

Rathiel blinked. It probably sounded like I’d lost my damn mind.

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