Page 8 of Corrupt Shadows

He sighs. His blue eyes narrow, and he runs his hand through his short, mousy-brown hair, speaking aloud this time. “You promised you would set me free if I found her. Is that still true?”

“That’s not all we agreed to. If you don’t want to burn in Hell, then you know what you must do.”

Fear slices through his expression. I can do little to him from here, but a deal with any demon is a one-way ticket to Hell. Despite being trapped here, I can still barter soul contracts. I am the leader of the seven circles of Hell, after all—even if I’m not physically there.

“I know what we agreed to,” he replies, then scratches the side of his neck. “I just… feel bad for what we’re going to do to her.”

“My patience grows thin, human. If you don’t want to burn for an eternity, torn apart over and over again, with the skin peeled from your bones—”

“Fuck, okay. I get it. You paint a beautiful picture.” He puffs out his cheeks and leans forward. “Fine,” Aiden says, resigned. “But I better not get sent to Hell anyway because of what I do to the witch.”

“You won’t,” I respond, bored and ignoring the rest of his blathering. It is just my goddamn luck that I have to put up with a man who doesn’t have the bandwidth between his ears to comprehend the intricacies and nuances of Hell, demon contracts, or how any of it works. If he did, he wouldn’t be so easy to manipulate.

My lips pull back in a silent snarl when he doesn’t stop talking, and he takes a step away from the mirror.

“I’ve grown tired of your insolence. Have you found the witch yet?”

“Have you?”

“Listen closely and shut your mouth. Remember who you are speaking to and why you are my valet.”

He sighs, regret threading in his stare. I know that look. Guilt.

“You found her.” My lips unfurl into the first genuine smile in a century. My valet shudders when he sees it, and I grin wider.

“Dude, don’t take this the wrong way, but that is a creepy smile.” He pauses. “Yes, I found her.”

My eye twitches. This is everything I’ve been waiting for. “So she is here.” I breathe deeply, then close my eyes for a few seconds. She mustn’t be using her magic, else I’d have found her already. I only feel sparks of it occasionally, enough to get close to her location but not enough to track her entirely.

“Just like you said she would be. In Darkwood. Her name’s Evie, and I glimpsed that rose tattoo with skulls and stuff you said she’d have. She was trying to cover them, which you said she’d do, but I could see them through the lace on her shirt in the light. Anyway, yeah, I wore the weird cross you gave me when I saw her at the diner.”

“Was she afraid?”

He sighs. “Petrified. She hid away after she saw me, so I left.”

My lip curves at the corner. Wonderful.

“Her friend told me a lot. She likes to talk.”

“Find out where she lives,” I order. “Now. I’ll have the mirror delivered to her, as we discussed before.” I need to ensure he remembers our months of plans exactly.

He nods, and I flex my fingers.

It’s finally time for the Fallenmoore mirror to come out of storage. The store owner never sold it, but he wouldn’t—not after I appeared in it and ensured his loyalty. I’ll be paying him a visit shortly.

Aiden nods, expecting a “well done” when all he’s managed is to surpass the bare minimum expectation of his job. Besides, the hard part hasn’t been done yet. He turns around and stumbles, his palm connecting with the wall and shifting the picture frames as he rights himself. He glances over his shoulder and speed walks into a room beyond my current vantage point. No matter. I can watch him, no matter where he goes.

Humans are so fond of admiring themselves, and I can only be grateful for their naivety.

THREE

Evie

This bat has a fucking death wish. Every time I open the doors to the balcony, he flies out, decides he hates the sunlight, then falls onto the railings. I huddle him into my arms before he can fly in a panic down into moving traffic.

“For a creature who hates the sun, you sure do like to test your luck.” I groan, forcing Gomez back inside, and slide the glass door behind him. His wings flutter as his big, round black eyes widen behind the glass. “I invented that look.” With a flick of my lighter, the end of my cigarette glows, and Gomez’s gaze remains locked on me. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Water drips from the balcony above, and I glance over, spotting my neighbor, Margaret, watering her plants. She tsk-tsks when she sees the cloud of smoke, then walks back into her apartment. I hear her door shut and roll my eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries reporting me again for smoking, even though it’s allowed as long as I’m outside. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s done it. No matter, I can put up with her as long as it means I remain here, safe and far away from my adopted parents and the Order.