Page 48 of Deal with the Devil

“I told you, I’m a fan,” he breathed.

Amelia set the book back precisely where she grabbed it. “You know, it never gets less strange. It’s almost an out of body feeling to see your book on someone’s shelf, to see them write nice things about it online. On the way to my signing, two teenagers stopped me to get signatures and a picture with me. It’s…it’s never normal, it’s almost always jarring. My agent says to get used to it, but I don’t think I ever will.”

Knox took up his tart and brought it to his lips.

Something was wrong.

The scent was raspberry, but there was something under it. Something distinctly arcane. Knox froze, staring down at the dessert in his palm. Waving a hand over the top of it, it glistenedwith a shimmering dust. Something rotten wafted up into his nose as he brushed the shimmer off. His eyes widened as he dropped a moldy, maggot-filled pastry onto the tray. As if the whole plate knew the jig was up, they all dropped the illusion as the one he dropped slapped against the silver.

Knox lurched around the desk, finding Amelia already dropping the pastry into the trash and spitting up into the can. He brushed her hair back as she put a hand to the wall and heaved. Dry soil and worms fell out of her mouth as she vomited up more of the pastry. A roach fell off her tongue and Amelia shrieked. Stumbling back, wiping her tongue, his pet lost her sanity.A reasonable response.

He already had his speaking stone out the second he realized the trick played on him. “Bring me Buttons and the pastry chef, now!”

His door flew open as Amelia screamed louder moments before vomiting onto his floor. Knox rushed to her side, but she was already on her hands and knees. An eyeball tumbled out of her throat onto the hard wood. It rolled around in the soil and ichor covering the floor. Knox knelt beside her, rubbing her back as she worked all the rotten necromancy out of her system.

“What,” she heaved, “the fuck!” Amelia gagged, a gurgling sound filling her mouth before she wretched forward. Damp soil, blood, and ichor spilled from her mouth. His human groaned, “Was that?”

“There are still some rats in my organization, it seems,” he growled, raking her hair back and snapping a ponytail in place with a simple summon spell. He grabbed his speaking stone and barked, “Hellen! My office!”

“I’m already on my way!” She bellowed through the rock before the door was thrown open. Hellen, covered in a layer of sweat and panting for air, came scrambling to the pair on the floor. Fuchsia mist and the sweet smell of cherries covered thepair as Hellen cast healing charm after cleansing spell. Soon, Amelia stopped heaving and only black drool dribbled from her mouth.

“Hellen, what was that?” Knox cupped Amelia’s chin and brought his pet’s face toward him. He wiped her lips off with a handkerchief.

“Looked like a sickening spell, nothing harmful, but no less disgusting and traumatizing.” Hellen took Amelia’s face from Knox and shoved an uncapped water bottle into Amelia’s lips. “Gargle, swish, and spit.”

Hellen wrenched the trashcan closer as Amelia filled her cheeks with water. She gargled, gagged, and tossed all the water in her mouth into the trash. Hellen made Amelia do it three times before the sickness was gone from her mouth.

“Where is Buttons?” Knox snarled.

“Boss!” Zavros came screeching to a halt in Knox’s doorway.

“Don’t tell me.” Knox scrunched his whole face in anger. “No, please, tell me.”

“Gael’s gone.”

Knox’s heart sank into his feet. “What!”

“Pastry cook’s dead, gutted. We found her in the walk-in cooler stuffed behind the frozen pie crust. Buttons is gone and she took Gael with her.”

Knox roared, snapping to his feet, “Find them!”

The room rumbled with his command, storming around Hellen to the doors. He glanced over his shoulder at Hellen and Amelia. “It was a distraction, it’s what that was!”

Hellen’s eyes widened as Knox snatched his cane and pointed it at her. The pink fiend put her hands up, eyeballing his cane with worry. “Knox.”

“Knox,” Amelia wheezed for air, clutching her stomach.

“Hellen, I want you to swear upon the contract you struck with me that you aren’t a part of this.” Knox stepped one step closer,the tip of his cane pointed at the center of her chest. Hellen’s hands trembled as she froze in place. “Swear it!”

“I swear it!” She shrieked. Her left hand glowed with black veins as the contract, long ago sunken into her skin, came to the forefront. Fear filled the air, and he felt it sink into him. Disgusted, horrified cold sensations rolled around in his stomach as he involuntarily devoured the fear coming out of Hellen.

He dropped the cane to the floor, groaning as he leaned over it. “I’m sorry, old friend.”

“I know,” Hellen whimpered, hands dropping. “Knox, you know if I had wanted to hurt you…”

“I know,” He stepped back toward the door, barely keeping his soul attached to his body. Realistically he knew. Deep down in his soul, he knew if Hellen had wanted to hurt him—let alone kill him—she wouldn’t have toyed with him like this. Hellen’s M.O. wasn’t a long, slow, drawn-out taunt. She was swift, merciless, and precise. He’d found her, hands covered in blood, looming over a corpse that never saw her coming.

Desperate times…once upon a time…when it was kill or be killed, Hellen didn’t hesitate.

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