Page 51 of A Match Made in Hell

I rein in the flames, and beam at Sath, triumphant. His brow is furrowed, more concerned than impressed, but I am not to be deterred.

‘This’ll work.’ I place a hand on his cheek. ‘I can do this.’

His skin, such a normal temperature now, is soft beneath my palm. He holds his breath as my fingers explore his face, tracing his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, before settling on his lips. My gaze drops to his mouth, parted beneath my touch. My power flickers. What am I doing?

What am I doing?

I spring from the bed, pulse thundering, before reluctantly turning to face him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .’

Mean to what? Tenderly caress his face, like nothing had happened?

‘It’s all right.’ Sath slides from the bed, and his towel slides with him, lowering on his waist. He stops to adjust it, which I absolutely do not watch, especially not when he loosens the knot in order to fix it, revealing the side of his hip and a flash of thigh and I’m not looking, okay ? ‘Did you want to talk about it?’

‘About what?’

‘Us.’

‘There is no us.’ The words are a reflex, a shield to deflect from the fact that, for me, there’s always been an us. We both know it. But then he used me, and betrayed me, and a massage and an offer of help isn’t enough to change that. It is, quite frankly, a matter of principle.

‘Really?’ He stalks towards me. My back slams against the wardrobe and his arms brace around me, either side of my head. My breath hitches. ‘What sin did you use just now, to make that fire?’

‘Wrath,’ I reply blandly.

‘Liar.’

Maybe I am. Now, though, it is anger that has me drawing on my power, and I’m finally able to form a sword in my hand, silver and gleaming and sharp. The hilt is decked with seven jewels, the largest a blood-red ruby set in the centre.

‘Careful.’ I aim the blade at his neck. He doesn’t flinch, instead regarding me with an intensity that almost makes his eyes turn molten again.

I miss that gold. It made him easier to read.

Every flare was a precursor to anger, to his powers coming to the surface, to .

. . something else, maybe. Something I saw the night of lust. ‘Now you’ve told me everything, I don’t need you any more.

I could still do to you what you did to your predecessor. ’

Sath frowns. ‘I didn’t do anything to him.’

‘You said he wasn’t here any more.’

‘That’s true,’ he says slowly. His shoulders sag, and he wilts on to the bed. ‘You haven’t asked me what my concession was.’

‘I thought getting out of your Devildom was your concession.’

‘Not quite.’ He sighs. ‘As a previous owner of the heart, I am free to travel to Elysium whenever I choose. That’s where all the former rulers have gone.’

Despite all the flames now living inside me, I go cold. Stone cold. All air leaves my lungs, a great crashing wave of panic washing over me, and both my hearts stop beating. He can leave. He’s free to leave.

And for all my bravado and waving a sword around, I don’t want to do this on my own.

‘Oh.’ My voice sounds small. ‘When . . .’ Nettles sting my throat, clogging it.

‘All I have to do is will it. One thought is all it would take.’

The nettles turn to deadened leaves that disintegrate when I swallow. ‘So, when I locked you in Glacantrum –’

‘I could have gone. Any time.’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘I didn’t.’

We hold each other’s gaze. My sword disappears. I couldn’t summon an ounce of sin if I wanted to. He stayed.

He stayed. He died in icy water, and I put him in the coldest place imaginable with no promise I’d let him out, and he sat there and waited. When he didn’t have to.

‘Why?’ I whisper.

‘Why do you think?’

The answer – at least, what I hope is the answer – is a rubber band squeezing my chest so tightly I think I might burst. ‘Tell me.’

His eyes are moist. ‘At first, I wanted to leave this place behind because I wanted to be at peace. Now I’m not sure that’s what I wanted at all.

What I wanted was a life, something outside of issuing punishments and dealing with petty squabbles between demons intent on tearing each other apart.

I didn’t think I’d have that here, not after what I’d done.

‘But then you fought alongside me, and covered your hands in my blood, and looked at me like I wasn’t the worst person you’d ever met.

You danced with me like I was a man, not a monster.

You took me to a bar and made me laugh and it felt like the start of something I didn’t think I’d be able to have, after I died.

And I wanted it. I still want it. I’m not going to Elysium if there’s a chance I can fight for that. ’

‘Oh.’ The rubber band snaps, and my heart wants to explode with it.

He stayed.

And maybe he lied to me, but it was for a good reason. Because he’s right, if I’d known the truth earlier, I’d have run. I’d have run, and Sath would have given up, and the gates would open, dooming us all.

Sometimes bad decisions lead to good things.

If I hadn’t jumped off that cliff, we’d never have met.

Both of our bad choices brought us together and gave us a chance.

To survive. To live. It’s a slim chance, one that relies on me not failing – something I don’t have a great track record of – but it’s a chance we didn’t have before.

A chance he gave me. Maybe I should give him one too.

The seventh clock on the dresser audibly ticks, hands shifting into a new position.

I drop beside him on the bed. ‘I’m opening those gates tomorrow,’ I tell him. ‘By the end of the day, Asphodel will either be saved, or it will be ruined.’

‘Willow –’

‘Shh.’ I press a finger to his lips. ‘If it does all go to shit, we only have tonight.’

His eyes flicker. ‘I know.’

‘And if it does . . . I don’t want to go to the Void without doing all the things I want to do first.’

As if he can read my mind – or maybe the way I’ve angled my body towards his – his hand finds my knee. His lips brush the shell of my ear. ‘And what is it you’d like to do?’

I wait one heartbeat. Two. Staring into his eyes, seeing the emotion there, feeling it reflect in mine. Finally, I say, ‘This.’

And then I kiss him.