Page 47 of A Match Made in Hell

It’s weird being in Sath’s rooms without Sath.

I suppose they’re my rooms now. I keep expecting to find him lounging on the sofa or smiling at me from the other side of the coffee table as I roll double sixes.

My stomach feels hollow and empty, but at least the nothingness of being alone settles me enough that the gates stop shaking.

The monsters on the other side growl when they understand they won’t be opening today.

I growl back, in the hope they can hear me.

Finally, I work up the courage to enter the bedroom.

My chest constricts at the sight of those black sheets, at the lingering scent of jasmine wafting from candles that no longer burn.

Congealed wax drips like frozen rain down what’s left of the sticks.

I collapse on the bed, only to discover the pillows smell like Sath.

I punch one before burrowing my face into it, wishing he was beside me so badly it’s like an ache. I hate him for it. For everything.

It doesn’t stop me curling into a ball and sobbing.

I stay like that for days, drifting in and out of consciousness. My dreams are violent and graphic, all snapping fangs and bloodstained claws. At first, I toss and turn and cry out. Then I get angry.

The demons like this. They whisper to me. Tear it all apart. Blow it up. Use us. The sins are like snakes under the surface of my skin, demanding more and more from me. To take what’s not mine. To hurt what’s hurt me. To give in to every lustful thought I’ve had about Sath.

The last one has me opening my eyes on the fifth day and deciding enough is enough. I refuse to listen to their bullshit demands any longer. I’ve gained plenty of experience ignoring the voices in my head, and these demons have got nothing on my mother.

My annoyance has flames sparking from my arms, and it takes several minutes to put them out again. Sath’s powers only flared when he needed them to, but I can’t find the knack to controlling mine. I knock a candle off the nightstand, wishing it was his head.

I am hopelessly out of my depth, and it’s all his fault. I never even graduated, for goodness’ sake. I shouldn’t be responsible for pet-sitting someone’s dog, let alone be left unattended with magic powers.

Weak from not moving, I force myself to sit up. Although starving and dehydration aren’t a thing here, I wouldn’t say no to a nice cup of tea. I screw up my eyes, wishing for one. Nothing happens.

Fuck’s sake. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, intending to risk a trip to the dining area, when a noise outside draws my attention. A noise that sounds suspiciously like a scream. Shadows of flame lick my arms, threatening to flare, because if that’s a demon hurting someone –

I storm outside and rush into the entrance chamber. A boat’s just arrived, and the passengers are not getting a warm welcome. They stand in a huddle, cowering and holding hands, watching as a man is pinned to the wall by a set of antlers attached to a demon with thickset shoulders.

‘What are you doing?’

Hurt him. Tear him apart. Honestly, the voices have a point, but I don’t know how to go about killing the demon without losing control and weakening the gates.

This is impossible.

‘I said, what are you doing? Have they committed a crime?’

‘They cried on the boat,’ the demon says. ‘We don’t like criers here.’

Good job he hasn’t seen what I’ve been doing the last few days.

‘Why wasn’t I summoned?’ I fold my arms. ‘In case you weren’t aware, Asphodel is under new management. I’ll decide the rules from now on. Let them go.’

‘What if I don’t want to?’ The demon doesn’t turn my way. ‘What will you do about it?’

I know what I want to do, but achieving it is another matter. The demon nudges closer, its antlers pressing into the man’s throat. He lets out a gargled cry. One of the watching humans tumbles to the floor in a dead faint.

‘Stop it!’ I command. The demon doesn’t listen. He’s never going to listen. He’s already written me off as someone who can be ignored, someone whose opinions don’t matter.

The floor rumbles. My fists clench. Smoke unfurls from my arms.

The demon finally releases its victim, but only so it can turn to grin at me instead.

Above his head, fissures crack through the rock, rivers of lava glowing bright red through the opening.

Good. Maybe I’ll let those crevices split wide open, let that lava spew out, let it melt the demon as it laughs at me.

Maybe then someone will finally, finally listen to what I have to say.

The rumbling worsens. My teeth chatter with the vibration.

The humans lumber around, looking from side to side, clutching one another as small rocks tumble from the ceiling.

The demon grins, and that only makes me blaze hotter, like fire has replaced all the blood in my veins, like the hate and disgust I have for his kind is all I know. Tear. Hurt. Kill.

In my mind, I can sense the gates tremble, the rock around them grinding and crunching as they threaten to burst open, a screw popping from one of the hinges.

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 need him to 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 I do know 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, what happened to you?’