Page 40 of A Match Made in Hell
A muscle in his jaw twitches. ‘That’s not fair.’
‘What’s not fair is putting me in this position.’ I fold my arms. ‘This shouldn’t have been a decision I had to make. If you would stand up to the demons . . .’
If he’d stand up to the demons, I wouldn’t be given the opportunity to do exactly the kind of dumb shit that got me here in the first place. It’s his fault I messed up;hisfault I’ve failed atyet another chance to prove I can walk away from bad situations.
The least he can do is get me out of it. ‘Could you do your thing already, and set him on fire? How long do we have until he wakes?’
Sath sighs. ‘I can’t set him on fire. Not this time.’
I do a double-take. I can’t have heard him correctly. If he doesn’t get rid of him, Aric will tell the other demons what I’ve done, and then they’ll be out for my blood, which –
Every inch of me goes as rigid and cold as a popsicle when I realise what this means. Sath has no intention of helping me. Of getting me out of this.
‘Nobody knew of those bats’ existence,’ Sath explains. ‘It was safe for me to return them to Tartarus. Aric, on the other hand . . . if he were to go missing, all kinds of questions would be asked. Ones that neither of us would like to answer.’
I’m going to the Void.
I’ll hear Mum’s voice on repeat, reminding me all I had to do was listen to her and I’d have been safe, free of this place, and I can’t do it, I won’t go there,I won’t.
‘Sath,’ I say. I’m reaching for him before I can stop myself, my hands making a fist in his shirt. ‘The tasks. Your . . . Think, Sath, if you send me to the Void, you won’t get your concession, whatever it is. You can’t . . .’ I’m babbling. I’m definitely babbling. ‘You can’t do this. You need me, remember?’
‘When did I say anything about the Void?’ He sounds completely calm, like he hasn’t signed my second death sentence by deciding Aric is more important than me.
‘If you keep Aric alive, won’t he make you? Otherwise, he’ll come after me himself.’ I bite my lower lip to stop it wobbling. ‘Maybe you could . . . torture me a little?’ I cringe at my own words. I think my self-respect is as dead as I am.
Sath blinks. ‘Torture you?’
‘Punish me?’ That sounds less painful. ‘You can punish me.’
He quirks a brow. ‘Do youwantme to punish you?’
‘Obviously not,’ I retort, forgetting I’m supposed to be begging for rescue. ‘But if you won’t set fire to Aric –’
‘Leave Aric to me.’ Sath stares at the body, darkness gathering in his expression, like clouds rolling in before a storm. ‘There is one thing I can use as leverage. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.’ His gaze shifts to meet mine. ‘I promise. He won’t touch you.’
The dread coiling round my chest loosens, and my next breath comes a little easier. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ He clicks his fingers, and Aric’s body disappears. ‘I sent him to my chambers; he won’t wake for a few hours. I’ll deal with him then.’
‘And what about me?’ I can’t help asking. ‘How are you going to deal with me?’
Sometimes I wish I knew how to keep my mouth shut.
‘Careful.’ Sath smirks. ‘All these questions, I’m starting to think youwantto be punished. Tell me, Willow, how would you like to be dealt with?’
My mind, ever helpful, conjures up images of the whips and chains I’d convinced myself I’d find in his cupboards. My cheeks grow warm, which only makes his smirk grow, as though he can see every single outrageous thought in my head.
‘I don’t,’ I snap, furious with myself. ‘I just assumed you’d yell more. Aren’t you angry?’
‘Oh, believe me, I’m angry,’ he says, sounding perfectly cordial. If this is anger, I’ve never seen it like this. ‘However well-intentioned, what you did was reckless. If Aric had got the upper hand, youwouldhave ended up in the Void.’ His gaze drops to my torn T-shirt. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘I’m fine.’
He slides a finger across the freshly exposed skin, just beneath my collarbone, before snatching his hand back into aclenched fist.
‘Nothing about this is fine,’ he says, eyes flashing gold. ‘He hurt you. And instead of punishing him, I have to play damage control.’ He shakes his head. ‘I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with this place.’
Now doesn’t seem like a good time to suggest, once again, that he does something about it.
