He reached down to my body, reached a handinsidemy chest, and latched on to something. He pulled, and out came a bright and glowing white sphere. The man lightly tossed the orb and from it, I appeared. That was my soul.
I gazed down at my body longingly. A body that was no longer mine. So many words came to mind, so many noises of agony I wanted to emit, but all I said was, “Damn.”
“Damned, indeed,” the man agreed. The man was tall and gray haired, with eyes sunken deep into his head. He wore a long black overcoat and an emotionless expression. He grabbed me by the arm, and the next thing I knew, I was getting shoved through the rusting iron bars of a cell, stumbling to the ground, knees collecting dirt. I knew where I was without having to ask. I’d known this was my final destination for the past ten years.
The man…thereapergave me one last long assessment before saying, “Welcome to Hell, Mr. Mitchell.”
nineteen
. . .
Present Day
Kit was an actual,alive human. He looked so young. When I saw him before as a demon or when he constructs himself in my mind, I suppose he looks the same, but his eyes…there is so much more behind his eyes now than then. His eyes then knew pain, sure, but not all the pain my Kit knows.
The most surprising part about his memory was that it didn’t seem to be that long ago. I figured Kit has been dead for hundreds of years, but seeing the technology scattered around his office, it can’t have been more than a decade ago.
Also, I didn’t acknowledge it before, but he’s handsome. Really handsome. Like, those dark-blue eyes are to die for, and he has this little sharp white scar right above his lip that I wish I could trace with my finger. His dark hair looks soft, long enough for me to run my fingers through, to grasp onto. When he was at his computer, a stray strand had fallen over his forehead, and I found myself with a desire to brush it back.
I swallow. Enough of that.
“Kit…” I say softly, not knowing what else there is to say.
“No,” he says quickly. “I didn’t show you that for sympathy.”
I shake my head, wishing I had more than just his voice with me. “Then why?”
“Because I still remember. I still remember what it’s like to be human. I’mnothuman anymore. I don’t want you to forget that, either, but I remember what it’s like. I need you to know that so you can understand thatIunderstand you want your freedom. I get it. And you need to trust that I will give it back to you. Lace, I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to give me a little time. I promise to keep you safe.”
I nod, resigned. What else can I say other than,Okay? I want to be free, he knows that, but he also needs me. I can keep plotting my escape. Perhaps Matthias will catch wind of the fact that I’ve been possessed again? He has the tools he needs to save me.
I say, “If you’re going to stay here, you have to give me a little control. Or at least promise to answer my questions. I have more than a few.”
“All right,” he says.
I get up and walk to my window. “Go to a mirror,” I direct.
He goes to my bathroom and locks eyes with me.
“I don’t understand how you died.”
“My heart stopped.”
“Butwhy? You knew it was coming, down to the exact second.”
His eyes drop so we’re staring at thebathroom counter. “When I was sixteen, I made a deal with a demon I met. That Icalled. I wanted something. The demon gave it to me with a ten-year timer that started counting down the second I signed the deal with my blood. When my time was up, my heart stopped. A reaper came to collect my soul and drop me in Hell.”
“Twenty-six is too young to die,” I state.
His focus finds mine in the mirror again. “Any age is too young to die.”
“You know what I mean, Kit. Or should I say, Christopher?”
“That’s not my name.”
“Yeah, sure,anymore, but it was. Kit is a nickname for Christopher.”
“It’s short for Tonkitgrol.”
