Page 43 of A Match Made in Hell

I have to warn Sath. Whatever the demons are planning, Aric seems confident it’ll work, his shoulders stretched back and his head cocked to one side.

The thought of what’ll happen to everyone here has that anger simmering inside me bubbling into something more, something that has me baring my teeth at him.

My skin is slick with sweat, which only makes me grip the dagger tighter.

Why do the demons get to decide our future, just because it’s what they want? Why should anyone get to dictate someone else’s life? It’s not fair.

Cracks splinter across the metal cuffing my wrist. Aric growls.

But isn’t that exactly what she did to me? Mum. She tried to pour me into a mould that didn’t fit and blamed me when she got burned by the spill. And I let her. For so long, I let her.

I’m not sure that was fair either.

Perfection is impossible. I saw that during sloth. I could have done everything she asked and I still would have ended up here. Going back won’t change that.

So, what am I going back for?

Aric bares his teeth while my bracelet squeezes and squeezes, as if to say you’re being ridiculous, Willow.

It’s not ridiculous to say I’ve been happier in Asphodel than I ever was on Earth. It’s the truth. And I’ve been too afraid to admit it out of fear for what could happen, fear I’ll screw everything up here the way I screwed up there.

The bracelet pinches tighter, but the warning doesn’t work.

One of the reasons I’ve been happier here is because I’ve been me here.

Maybe my constant screw-ups were because I wasn’t being true to myself; because I was never going to fit in to the life Mum wanted, the same way this damn bracelet is always going to be the wrong size. Because it’s not right .

‘Are you thinking about how beautiful it will be?’ Aric says. ‘A sea of blood. I will drink for days, while the humans watch from cages made of their brethren’s bones.’ He runs a tongue over his canines. ‘And then I will taste them too.’

I won’t let him do this. I refuse. I don’t want to go home and punch numbers into a computer because of a promise I made in the depths of despair.

I want to save Harper and the humans. People who’ve accepted me, welcomed me, who put a smile I barely recognised on my face because it had been so long since I’d seen it.

They’re worth saving, and I want to be the kind of person who saves them.

And I want to kill Aric.

Not because I’m snapping, or throwing a tantrum, choosing to throw anything away.

I could walk out right now. I know I could.

I just don’t want to. The only thing I’m discarding is the pressure to be something I’m not – and if Mum can’t be proud of me for that, maybe Sath had a point.

That’s on her . I quit that course to make myself happy.

Sometimes bad decisions lead to good things, and we have a lifetime to balance them out.

My bracelet digs in more than ever, like it wants to burrow into my skin and hold me hostage in its grasp, tightening and tightening until I can’t see where the metal ends and my skin begins – I grit my teeth, hissing through the pain, trying to claw it off, to thrust my fingers beneath the cuff and prise it from my flesh, but it doesn’t stop, won’t stop; tears leak from my eyes and a cry escapes my throat as I finally push my index finger beneath the band, wrenching it upwards, pulling it off , I want it gone along with everything it represents –

And then it snaps in two.

The pieces clatter to the ground, shattering in a spray of silver and abandoned promises.

I stumble back. Aric shifts in my peripheral vision – I guess Sath wasn’t lying when he said Aric can’t attack first, because he’s rooted to the spot, shifting from one foot to the other, snapping and snarling.

Not for much longer.

Free of my shackles, I straighten, twirling the knife in my hand while a phantom wind drifts through the pit, lifting the ashes of my bracelet and stealing them away.

There’s a spring in my step as I circle him now, my whole body lighter without the expectation that one tiny piece of jewellery wrought.

I can have a life of my own. Instead of seeing the world, I’ll get to explore each and every floor of Asphodel with Harper.

I’ll spend every night with Sath without caring that Mum would have hated him.

The fact she chose Noah, someone who toyed with me for years and then discarded me like a broken doll, shows how little she knew me.

I’m giddy with the possibilities of next in a way I never have been before.

And all I have to do is kill him.

‘Look at you, thinking you’ve won,’ Aric says. ‘How I would love to rip that smile from your face and eat it. Perhaps tonight I shall.’

‘I already told you, those gates aren’t opening.’

‘Yes, Willow White, they will. And you will stand there powerless when it happens.’

‘No.’ This isn’t the usual, burning, hot-headed rage I feel when I’m out of control and don’t know what to do – the kind that leads to a bad decision. This anger is made of ice and steel, as cold as the weapon I’m going to kill him with. He doesn’t get to decide my future.

I do.

And then I’m running, launching myself at him; I don’t think he expected me to do it because his eyes widen in surprise when I reach him, my shoulder shoving into his chest and sending him tumbling to the floor.

I follow, going down with him, raising the dagger in the air before slamming it into his stomach.

The blade punctures skin. Something pounds in the distance; Sath shouts my name.

I tune him out. I will whatever magic that allowed this knife to appear to keep the doors locked.

There’s just me, and Aric, and a weapon.

My hands are drenched in black ooze. I drive the dagger deeper, twisting it around, tugging it out only to slam it in again.

The humans have been hurt too many times; I’ve been hurt too many times. Years of poking and prodding and torment, years of being told our feelings were invalid, and it’s enough. Today it ends. I will not let those gates open.

The pounding on the doors grows more frantic, but anger is a seed taken root, erupting in my insides, the stem blazing and burning as it shoots through my veins. I can’t stop. The flames are all I see. Aric’s a monster. He deserves this. Sweat drips down my back. He deserves this.

I plunge the knife into his chest next, into that hole where his heart should be, and he finally stops writhing beneath me. Panting, I stare at his prone form, at the mess I’ve made, and lean forward. ‘I guess you were the powerless one after all.’

The dagger clatters to my side. Blood leaks from his wounds.

All I want to do is laugh .

For once, there’s no anger left to suppress, nothing to lock away and pretend I don’t notice the way it’s clawing to get out. I’m free. I’m finally free. I crawl to Harper, patting her face, listening to her shallow breaths in the silence.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ I whisper. ‘Aric can’t hurt you now.’

And no one can hurt me . I’m unbound, unchained, my future my own to decide.

As if they know who, exactly, I want in that future, the doors blast open.

My smile widens. I’m staying . I’ll have the chance to tell him how I feel.

Properly. Not the way I begged for him during lust, because it’s not just his body I want – as appealing as it is.

I want the man who listened to me, who never judged me, who accepted me the way I am.

And I don’t believe he doesn’t want me too. Maybe he was afraid to say something because he thought I was leaving, but now we have a whole eternity to figure this out. A chance we didn’t have before.

Happiness warms my chest, glowing so bright I want to burst.

I’m staying .

I rise to my feet on shaky legs, waiting for him to see, for him to realise I’m not going anywhere. That I had the chance to choose who I wanted to be, once and for all, and instead of Good Decision Willow or Bad Decision Willow, I chose Willow . I chose the people here. I chose him.

Then I catch the look on his face. My smile wavers.

‘What the hell did you do?’ Sath’s voice is barely more than a hiss, but it hits me like a roar.

‘It’s okay,’ I reassure him. ‘I chose to fail. I wanted this.’

‘You wanted this,’ he echoes. He isn’t catching on that this is a good thing . Wet slaps sound as he marches through Aric’s blood to stand inches from me, heat radiating from him. He gestures at the black glistening on his shoes. ‘You wanted this ?’

I fold my arms as though they’ll be enough to shield me from the burn. ‘Aric was threatening to open the gates. He needed to be stopped.’

‘He’s always threatening to open the gates.’ He can’t hide the bite of frustration in his tone. ‘It didn’t mean you had to go and believe him. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’

As the adrenaline wears off, my lip wobbles. Instead of being the tiniest bit pleased I’m staying, he’s treating me like a small child needing a scolding for a misdemeanour – although I suppose stabbing a guy is somewhat worse than stealing a lollipop.

I jut out my chin. ‘I did what I wanted to. That’s not a crime.’

Why should I be denied what I want a moment more? Maybe my sin is I care too much. I am greedy and selfish and want things I shouldn’t, but I will also fight for those I care about. Asphodel was at risk and I was prepared to do something about it, which is more than I could ever say for him.

He grinds his jaw so hard I think his teeth might crack. Finally, he looks away from me, raking his fingers through his hair and saying, ‘Let’s not do this here.’

He douses Aric’s body in black flames, turning him to smoke and ash. Another wave of his hand and Harper disappears.

‘Is she –’

‘She’ll wake in her room, none the worse for wear.’ He draws closer and takes my hand. The movement is gentle, at odds with the way he’s spoken to me so far, the slow slide of our palms connecting sending a shiver down my spine as our fingers interlace.

My heart swells. Harper’s okay, and Sath’s touching me, and everything is alive with possibility again, but then his grip tightens, too tight to be comfortable, and fire blazes in his eyes. ‘I wish I could say the same for you.’