Page 83 of Demon with Benefits
She shook her head. He was such a slob.
The rest of the room was equally chaotic, so much so that she needed a minute to take it all in. There were clotheseverywhere. She’d thought it was bad the way he managed to leave more and more stuff at her place every time he came over, but that was nothing.
There were clothes draped across the bed and over the back of the desk chair. There were piles on the floor. The closet doors were open and clothes spilled out like they’d burst through of their own accord. The floor of the closet was a sea of sneakers.
Instead of grossing her out, however, the mess made a pang shoot through her. It was so characteristically Meph. The chaos. The comfortable, homey vibe. Something about it made her want to crawl into the rumpled bed and never leave.
She wandered across the room, intent on exploring the desk, though she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. A clue as to where he’d gone, maybe, like a gym membership card.
But when she approached, something else caught her eye.
On the far side of the room at the base of the window... a hellgate was drawn on the floor. It was cleverly disguised by piles of clothes strategically placed over the outer lines.
She nudged them aside with a foot, and it became obvious it was anactivehellgate. When she focused, she could feel the unpleasant tingle of Sheolic energy.
After drawing, a hellgate sigil had to be activated with Sheolic magic in order to link it with another and make it operational. Meph had already completed this step, leaving the gate alive and humming in the middle of his bedroom. Wherever this gate led, it had to be somewhere he went frequently to be worth the risk.
Did his brothers know he had an active hellgate in his room? Wasn’t it dangerous to have an open door into their apartment, considering they were supposed to be in hiding?
If there was anywhere Meph would go to disappear, it was through here, Iris was certain. Following random hellgates to unknown destinations was one of the stupidest things a witch could do, but she... trusted Meph. She knew the gate wouldn’t lead her somewhere unsafe.
It was a surprising revelation. The only people she trusted were Lily and Suyin, and she would sure as hell ask questions if either of them asked her to walk through a mysterious hellgate. Yet here she was.
With a shrug, she stepped into the sigil.
It was a perk of being a blood-born: humans needed to drink demon blood before they could use hellgates, but not blood-born witches. Whatever it was that gave Iris her natural abilities made it so she could use a gate as easily as a demon. There was an old myth that blood-borns were descended from demons, but seeing as demons were infertile—new demons were created, not born—she knew that theory to be bullshit.
Immediately, the magic caught her like a hook behind the navel, and she was pulled through the vortex—with a brief stop in Hell on the way, the air stifling and the red skies burning her retinas.
She staggered out of the gate and into the wall of... an office. The air was fresher and considerably warmer than Montreal, though she could hear a heater running somewhere. Around her were more piles of clothes. She breathed a laugh, any remaining fear vanishing as she confirmed this was indeed a safe place.
She crossed the room, opening the door and peeking out. Her eyes widened as she took in a spacious... art studio? Tall windows opened onto a lush cedar forest. It was raining and misty outside, and there was no snow.
“Oh good, you’re here,” a voice said suddenly, and Iris barely managed to stifle her sound of surprise.
Only after she’d spoken did Iris see the woman at the other end of the room, bent over something on the table. She kept speaking without looking up.
“Magalie called me back about the gallery show, and she’s thrilled you’ve agreed. She promised she’ll take care of all the transportation from your studio to the gallery, so all we have to do is get the pieces through the hellgate. I was thinking we could do a test with something rough to make sure it doesn’t get damaged in transit, but I’m sure—”
The woman finally looked up and saw Iris. She froze. Iris froze too.
“Who are you?”
“Um. Iris.”
“Lily’s sister?
Iris nodded. “Who are you?”
“Jacqui.”
Iris’s eyes widened.Of course.This was Eva’s mysterious mom, the woman Meph had been talking to on the phone. “Where am I?”
“On Vancouver Island. You came through Meph’s hellgate?”
Iris nodded. “He... comes here a lot.” She’d been about to phrase it like a question but stopped herself. Sometimes the best way to extract information was to pretend you already had it.
“Yes, he does.” Jacqui’s eyes lit up. “He told you about his work, then?”
