Oh, God. I can’t escape the lectures about my own failure, even among the hellhounds. “You told me the importance, but that doesn’t make me any more experienced. You and I both agreed it was insane that Emerazel wanted to send me off without training. I don’t know why you’re suddenly surprised that it didn’t turn out well. And you know what? I still don’t understand what she wants with everyone’s souls. What does she do with them?”
“It’s the stakes that mattered. You couldn’t afford to fail.” Ignoring her question, he rooted her in place with his gaze, and stepped closer. “I don’t know why you didn’t just sign the pact like I told you to in the first place. Then neither of us would have to worry about this mess.”
She crossed her arms, taking a step back, until she was backed up against the wall. “I don’t know—why didn’t I sign that pact?” She touched her finger to her lips. “Oh yeah, I guess I was a bit put off by the ‘burning in eternity’ thing. It sounded unpleasant—which, by the way, is why I’m not going to be a great salesman for this deal, because only a psychopath would want someone to burn forever. Hugo gets some cash in exchange for everlasting torture? And I’m supposed to convince him that’s a good deal? It’s insane. I’m not a monster, Kester.”
“Oh, but you are,” he snarled. “And so am I.” He pressed his palms to the wall on either side of her head, boxing her in.
Adrenaline surged. “I never wanted this.”
“You and I don’t get the luxury of morality and soul-searching. You asked to be just like me when you wanted a trial, and now you’re one of the demons. And I notice you quite happily accept the lodging and the payment for your work.”
White-hot anger burned her cheeks. “All I wanted from life was a normal job, enough for food and rent, and a couple of normal friends. I was happy in my hovel of an apartment. It was my home, before you told everyone I overdosed. I don’t need three bedrooms in a mansion, or a four-hundred-dollar haircut. And I don’t need gold ingots. For fuck’s sake.”
His eyes bored into her, and for a second, she thought he might tear into her neck like he’d slaughtered the ewe. “Has it occurred to you that there might be worse monsters out there than hellhounds like me?”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. “Worse than agents of perpetual agony? Is that so?”
“There are monsters who would torture you without your consent, who prey on the innocent—unlike hellhounds, who approach only those who’ve agreed to the bargain. Whether you remember it or not, you agreed to serve Emerazel, and so did Hugo. So did I. Now we all reap the consequences. That’s life.”
“And you’re fine with that?”
A low growl escaped him, and she caught a glimpse of lengthening fangs. He was going to murder her. “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter if I’m fine with it. You can’t fight it. Emerazel is as old, as powerful, and as immovable as the stars. If we don’t reap the souls, she’s more than capable of taking them herself. Hugo’s soul will be collected whether you do it or not. But if you defy the goddess, you will join him in the inferno. In fact, Emerazel will want your soul now for your mistake.”
A hollow opened in the pit of Ursula’s stomach. “For one cock-up?”
Kester’s face was stony. “Hugo is internationally famous. Your image will be plastered across the news. If I don’t tell Emerazel about your failure, she’ll slaughter me along with you.”
Ursula fought the urge to vomit. Of course. There had been CCTV cameras all over the club, recording her image. She could already imagine the headline: Insane Mystery Girl Fakes Death, Attacks Hugo Modes.
“Maybe no one remembers me,” she said, her voice breaking.
An eternity in the inferno. Kester was going to give her up to Emerazel. Her heart pounded. She needed to get out of here. Glancing around for an escape route, her eyes landed on the chandelier. She could leap up, kick Kester in the face, and bolt into the elevator. But it wouldn’t be on her floor, and she’d have to stand there waiting for it to arrive while Kester summoned the goddess of fire and brimstone. Bollocks, Ursula.
Could she make it out a window? Did windows in penthouses even open? Even if she did escape, the goddess had total control over her mind and body. There was no way to run from her.
Raw panic flooded her body, and she began pacing like a caged animal.
Kester’s phone buzzed, and he stepped away from her, yanking it from his pocket. After a moment, he exhaled, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “You are very lucky Zee was there.”
“Why? What happened?” Hope bloomed in her chest.
He shoved the phone in his pocket. “Zee was able to glamour everyone at the club. They won’t remember you.”
“How?”
“Zee’s a fae. That’s one of the reasons I sent her along.”
“Fae? I don’t even know what that is.” She was still vibrating with panic; her statement came out as an angry shout.
“The fae can influence people’s thoughts. Luckily for you, she convinced the security guards to hand over the tapes of your panicking face.”