There’s a chance when she does, a portal will open, and a soul sucker will come for me. I’d rather rip my own balls off than deal with one of them again.
On the other hand, I could get her to summon Dylan to find out for certain whether or not he’s alive.
To do it or not to do it? Decisions, decisions.
But I can’t leave this godforsaken place until I sever the curse tying me to her. If she weren’t stuck on the property, it’d be easy enough to haul her around to where I need to go. Obviously, that isn’t a possibility though.
All she needs to do is break the link between us and I can be on my way. That’s all. I don’t know what year it is or how long I’ve been stuck in the limbo of Hell, but my brother might still be out there.
A lump builds in my throat. This is the closest I’ve been to answers. When I was in Hell, I had nothing to go off. Now, I’m in the same world as him. I can find him—if he’s still here.
Two things need to happen right now. First, I need a weapon, in case a demon comes to drag me back to Hell. And second, I need to try not to kill this girl again when she starts crying about… whatever the fuck she’s been crying about.
My eyes dart around the room and land on a chair. That’ll do. I break the leg off and use the rough edge of the brick wall to sharpen it into a point.
I press the pad of my finger to the tip, pulling away at the sting. Fine, it might not be sharp enough to take out a Tor’Oth, but at least it’ll slow them down.
I grip the grimoire in one hand and the stake in the other, and storm through the house to return to the room where I left the ghost. My feet pause in the doorway, and I watch her rub her arms as if she’s cold, scared, worried about what I may do to her. She looks mildly irritated that I’m still here.
Fucking ditto.
But it’s good. She should be fucking terrified of me and the situation we’re in.
“Last chance to talk,” I say, snapping each word and making her jump to her feet. “You’re one more excuse away from me splitting your skull open. I don’t have enough patience for this?—”
“You were supposed to be my sister!” she cries out in frustration, interrupting me. “I wanted her, and I gotyou.”
My brows rise at the way she sneers the last word. She’s got fire. “Keep going.”
Her lip trembles, her glassy eyes dropping to the makeshift weapon in my hand.
“Are you going to kill me again?”
“Undecided. I could be convinced into not hurting you if you give me something other than vague, useless answers.”
Great. She’s going to cry again. Can I kill myself instead?
“M-my—” She clears her throat tiredly, and suddenly all the emotion on her face melts away to nothingness. Interesting. “My sister is dead.”
“As are you,” I add, making her flinch. I kind of regret it. “Let me guess. You thought you could speak to her using, what? Witchcraft bullshit? Instead, you summoned a demon and now you don’t know what to do about it.” I grit my teeth. “If you say yes, Iwillkill you again because that means you have no idea how to break this fucking curse and free me from being stuck here with you.”
I hope I’m wrong. Because if she can do a summoning spell, I could at least find out if Dylan is alive or dead. He was, oris, a good kid; he would never have ended up trapped in Hell, so if a summoning spell didn’t work, it would mean his heart is still beating. That I could find him…
My lips nearly part. I want to ask her the year, but the look on her face stops me.
Her hard eyes flicker to the ground, and there goes all my hope of getting away from her.
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think it would even work. I-I—” She clears her throat, and my forehead wrinkles watching a trickle of venom etch into her features. It transforms her into another person. “I had no idea what I was doing.”
So much authority for such a pathetic slip of a thing.
I hate that I felt an ounce of hope and she squashed it in just eight fucking words. She didn’t know what she was doing, so the likelihood of her being able to do it again—and for her killer no less—is extremely low.
Tony’s going to be losing his mind by now. I’m his only acquaintance in Hell and the only one who puts up with not only his shifting, but his bubbly, social-butterfly personality. He might even kill this girl himself if he ever lays eyes on her.
I narrow my gaze at that thought. No. If anyone is going to kill this insufferable girl, it’s me.
Again.
