Page 7 of The Road to Hell

Eliza frowned. “How could things get worse?”

I was about to launch into an explanation of everything that had gone down since I last spoke with her and Mason, then paused. A burly werewolf sat at the table next to us, nursing his drink. Except, he kept sneaking glances at Eliza, and I couldn’t have that. This conversation was for privileged ears only.

I plucked a ten-dollar bill from my jacket pocket and leaned toward the werewolf.

“Hey,” I said, flashing the bill in his face. “Eliza wants to buy you a drink, but only if you do her a favour first and put on some music. Something loud.”

The werewolf’s ears perked up, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He snatched the ten from my hand like a dog snatching a tennis ball and bolted toward the bar.

“Uh, Lily?” Eliza questioned.

I held up a hand. “Give me a second.”

The werewolf leaned over the counter, barking his order at Briggs, who fumbled with a bottle but eventually managed to pour a decent drink. Then, drink in hand, the werewolf made a beeline for the jukebox. He pawed through the options, muttering to himself, before finally jamming a toonie into the slot.

Moments later, a cheesy love ballad began pouring through the speakers. The werewolf grinned, clearly pleased with his selection. But the entire bar erupted in groans and boos. Undeterred, he took a long sip of his drink, while the patrons drowned out the saccharine crooning with renewed—and vigorous—chatter.

Perfect.

I turned my attention back to the table. “The rest of my father’s fallen angels are here,” I said quietly.

Eliza’s eyes widened, and Mason leaned forward, his usually relaxed demeanor replaced by grim focus. Last they’d seen, my father had sent some hellspawn after us. But they’d never met any of the fallen.

I drew a deep breath, preparing to drop the next bit of unpleasant news.

“Two nights ago,” I continued, my voice dropping even lower, “they killed Jack.”

“Jack?” Eliza asked, frowning.

“Prince Charming,” I clarified, using the nickname she’d given him back when I first told her about him.

Realization softened her face, quickly giving way to sympathy. “Oh, Lily. I’m so sorry.”

I forced a tight smile and avoided Rathiel’s gaze, afraid of what I’d see there. Instead, I focused on the conversation at hand. “I’ve decided that I need to take control of this situation. I can’t let them chase me through Edmonton, and I won’t let them harm anyone else. They don’t belong here.” Then I finally glanced at Rathiel. “Wedon’t belong here. We’re dangerous.I’mdangerous,” I amended. “My father won’t stop until I’m dead. And I can’t—won’t—bring that battle here.”

Eliza leaned back in her chair, her brows furrowing as she digested my words. Her fingers drummed absently on the table, a telltale sign she was thinking hard. Mason, on the other hand, rubbed a hand over his jaw, his grey eyes studying me like I’d sprouted a second head. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and their silence weighed heavily on me.

Finally, Eliza said, “So, what’s the plan, then? Because I know you, Lily. You wouldn’t be telling us all this unless you had one.”

I braced myself for their response. “Rathiel and I are going to Hell.”

Mason let out a low whistle, his gaze jumping to Rathiel. “Figuratively or literally?”

“Literally,” I answered. “I need to put an end to this. To all of it. The only way to keep Earth safe is for me to”—I stole a furtive glance around the bar before leaning in—“kill my father.”

Eliza blinked once. Twice. Then she coughed out a laugh. “Your plan is to”—she mouthed the wordkill—“your dad?”

Grateful she hadn’t spoken his name, I nodded.

After a moment, she started laughing. But it wasn’t a funny,ha-hatype of laugh. More likeyou’ve lost your damn mind.

I waited, tapping my fingers against the rim of my glass, until she finally noticed I wasn’t laughing with her.

Her chuckles died off abruptly, and she stared at me. “Wait. You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” I said, resisting the urge to chuckle at the accidental pun. Somehow I didn’t think anyone else would appreciate my macabre humour.

Eliza stared at me, then waved a hand dramatically in Rathiel’s direction. “And you’re just…okay with this?”

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