Page 65 of A Match Made in Hell
‘We’re not invisible here,’ he murmurs. ‘Act natural.’
I spin to face him. ‘Are we really here? But . . . how . . . ?’
What if I can slip away?
‘My magic allows me to portal here,’ Sath is saying. ‘Only for forty-eight hours. Any longer – Willow, are you listening?’
Of course I’m not listening. I’mhome.
The next thing I know, Sath has my chin gripped between his fingers. ‘Focus,’ he says. ‘The magic that allows us to leave Asphodel is limited. Only I can access it. Try and run from me . . .’ He grimaces. ‘It wouldn’t be pleasant for you.’
I scowl, slapping his hand away from my face. Of course he knew what I was thinking. Shivering, I wrap my arms around themselves, and he makes no move to offer any assistance. I’m stuck in a strapless dress (yes, fine, I don’t usually wear one and yes, fine, I only put it on in case I bumped into him), goosebumps erupting over my skin as I bounce on my toes. ‘Can we get this over with?’
Sath nods. ‘Remember what I said. We can be seen here.’
Plenty of people have seen us already. The street teems with festive merrymakers as we walk past shops long closed for the night and head towards the nearest pub. If he was worried about us being spotted, maybe he shouldn’t have taken me to one of my old drinking grounds. There’s a strong chance not everyone here will be a stranger.
If this task is supposed to represent envy, I have a horrible feeling that might be the point.
Inside, the carpet is as awful as I remember: burnt orangewith gold swirls and saturated with stains. People cram around the bar, waving notes and cards at harassed staff.
Sath steers me towards the rear of the pub, positioning me behind a pillar and instructing me to peer round.
When I do, my heart drops.
Sasha is sat at a table with Danny and Michaela, four empty glasses in front of them. My knees nearly buckle. She’s alive. Seeing the proof with my own eyes is different to hearing Sath tell me. I want to run and hug her, to feel how warm she is in my arms, to tell her I’m sorry I ever put her in jeopardy at all. Her laugh is tinkling, melodic.
‘Don’t you think it’s unfair,’ Sath says, ‘that she lived, when you didn’t?’
‘What?’ I blink. ‘Of course not. She’s Sasha.’
‘And why does Sasha deserve good things, and not you? She got to go on all the holidays you never did. She got to see the world. She even got better grades than you while she did it. She’s never struggled for anything, has she? And now she’s living the life that could have been yours.’
‘This won’t work,’ I tell him. ‘I’m glad she didn’t pay for my mistake. I’m glad she’s –’
She’sokay. The realisation sinks in further. My chest swells. She’s not in a hospital attached to wires or curled up in bed crying because she lost her best friend. And, okay, fine, I won’t deny I’d be flattered if she was, but I’m too relieved not to have killed her to be chastising her for not grieving appropriately.
At least I know if I mess something up and fail a task, or get sent to the Void for some minor infraction, she’ll be fine. I haven’t ruined anything. I haven’t ruinedher.
‘I see. I suppose, in that case, you’ll be fine with this too.’
I follow the direction of his pointed finger to see a figure moving through the crowd, and my stomach tumbles to the floor. Noah. He sets a tray of drinks on the table before droppinginto the seat beside Sasha.
And then he takes her hand in his.
She twirls a lock of hair around her finger as she smiles at him, puckering her perfectly pink lips in his direction until he relents and presses a kiss to her mouth. Danny hoots. My insides squirm, like the pair of them have sliced my stomach open and allowed the wriggling contents to spill out.
‘Jealous, Willow?’ Sath murmurs beside me. ‘She took everything from you. And so quickly. So easily. Don’t you wish you were in her seat instead? Why don’t you walk over there and claim it?’
I don’t listen. I can’t look away. My breaths are too quick, too uneven, like she stole some of my oxygen when she stole my boyfriend.
‘When.’ My voice is low and cold, the complete opposite of the way I feel, a rumble of thunder before the downpour begins. ‘When did it start.’
Did they even wait for me to die? My mind races over my final month: the way she disappeared on a night out and I couldn’t find her no matter how hard I searched. How she’d call Noah to collect me once I was in a state, butshenever seemed to be, coming home sober after he’d deposited me in bed. They’d stay up watching a film and he’d wake me hours later, smelling of her perfume. Then there was that final night on the cliff, where she encouraged me to leave him behind and go travelling. She was probably waiting to swoop in the moment I’d gone.
‘Why don’t you go and ask?’ Sath suggests. ‘Tell them exactly what you think of them. You’d feel better for it, wouldn’t you?’
You know why this happened, Mum’s voice needles.Why would he want you when he could have her? She’s perfect in a way you could never be. I always thought she’d make the better daughter.
