Page 91 of A Match Made in Hell
A human screams.
Tear. Hurt. Kill.
I dig my nails into my palms. A rope of fire bursts out and falls to the floor, flailing around on the ground and hissing, spitting sparks at the nearest human. Panic flares inside me, dulling the urge for retribution because hurting the humans isn’t what I wanted, not what I was aiming for, but now I’ve started this I don’t know how to stop. The rope burns brighter, edges closer to the waiting group of innocents and I can’t rein it back; I can’t –
‘Let me through,’ a familiar voice sounds in the distance. ‘Move!’
No.
She shouldn’t be here; I don’t want her to see me like this. I close my eyes, willing her away, but then a pair of blissfully cool hands find mine, pulling apart my clenched fists one finger at a time. I stumble into a fluffy jumper scented like bubblegum and immediately bury my head into it, wishing I could stay there forever.
‘I’ve been looking for you for days,’ Harper hisses. ‘What’s going on?’
I focus all my attention on those icy hands, allowing them to calm me, to melt the fire in my veins. The floor stops rumbling. I force my eyes open to find the flaming rope has disappeared, leaving behind a burnt streak on the floor. The woman it had been aiming for is trembling, her eyes wide and tear-stained, gawping at me like I’m the biggest monster in the room. The demon cocks its head, assessing me, and I realise it’s not the woman’s opinion that matters, not right now.
If I want him to obey me, I needhimto think I’m the biggest monster too.
I turn towards the throne. The snake’s head is larger than ever, fully encapsulating the seat, its fangs as long as my forearms. I swallow, my pulse sounding too loud in my head. My feet feel as though they’re being weighed down by chains as I take one slow step, then another, towards that seat.
Then I drop into the chair.
It’s extremely uncomfortable. Cursing Sath for failing to invest in cushions, I shift from side to side, trying to find a spot that doesn’t make my butt complain. I miss my bed. But if I don’t want that demon’s actions to become widespread, I have to take a stand, at least until I can get myself under control and figure out a better way forward.
I just hope Harper realises everything I’m about to say is a lie.
‘Welcome,’ I say. It comes out a little squeaky, which is not ideal. What did Sath say, the day I arrived? Something like, ‘Welcome to Asphodel. Your home now, along with all the pleasantries it has to offer. Just don’t try and escape. Or cry in front of a demon. Then everything will be . . . fine.’
The humans don’t look convinced. I’m not convinced. I am hopelessly bad at this.
I grit my teeth and continue anyway.
‘What I did today was a taster of what will happen if you misbehave.’ I glance at the demon, who’s watching with his arms folded and eyes narrowed. I have no idea if he believes what just happened wasn’t an accident, but so long as the element of doubt is there, the possibility that Idoknow what I’m doing – and am therefore capable of hurting him the same way – he might spread the word to his fellow demons that it’s business as usual. That they should respect me the way they respected Sath. ‘I suggest you don’t try and find out what other punishments Asphodel has to offer.’
I wave the demon away. ‘Show them to their rooms. If they cause trouble, bring them to me.’
Holding my breath, I wait to see if he’ll take the instruction, keeping my focus on Harper hovering nearby. She reminds me of the hope I felt when I first failed wrath, when I thought I could stop the demons and have a lifetime here with her and Sath. The idea of it stops me losing control all over again.
I narrow my eyes, keeping my features hard, willing the demon to listen, willing it and willing it until, finally, he bows his head and turns to lead the humans single file out to the cliff face.
Once the echoes of their footsteps have faded, the chamber is as silent as a tomb. I’m not sure I’ve seen Harper lost for words before. I can’t even take a moment to be relieved she’s unharmed after Aric, not when her gaze is racing over my face, her jaw dropping at whatever she sees there. I don’t need to find a mirror to know my eyes will be blazing amber, if not red.
That she sees the Devil looking back at her.
When I can’t take the quiet any longer, I rise from the throne. ‘Will you come with me? Please? We can’t talk here.’
Slowly, she nods, although she keeps several paces behind me at all times as I lead her into Sath’s quarters.
An awkward silence descends again once we’re inside. I clasp my hands together, feeling as though a spotlight has been placed directly over my head, my fingers fidgeting with one another as I wait for her to make her final verdict on whether or not she’s staring at a monster – whether or not she’s willing to stay in this room with me at all.
Finally, she sinks on to the sofa, her expression a mix of fear and devastation. ‘Willow, whathappenedto you?’
32
I tell her everything.
She strokes my hair as I lie with my head in her lap, spilling every single secret I’ve kept since arriving. Meeting the Sorter. My deal with Sath. The tasks.
Sath’s betrayal.
