“Gordon,” I correct without thinking. I swallow, picking up my sweater to show him my tattoo. “You can’t possess me.” My voice trembles, despite every effort I made to keep it steady.
He glares down at the tattoo, eyes full of flames. “I could cut that off of you, slice away the skin bit by bit until you’re a shredded, bloody mess.” His eyes flick back to mine. “However, I won’t bother. You’ve been tainted by a lower demon.” He leans forward until his face is inches from mine. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. Tonkitgrol will be exceptionally displeased when I take away his favorite human toy.”
I gulp again, stepping back. “Maybe we don’t play fridge-the-girlfriend?”
He glares, likely not understanding the reference to a literary trope. He grabs me by the collar of my sweater, tugging me forward. “I’ll make it slow.”
I shove him, surprising him, because he lets go. Instinctually, my hand forms a fist and I swing, connecting with his jaw. Balores stumbles slightly, but I don’t think that punch did anything but piss him off.
“Shit,” I swear as I wave my hand to shake off the pain. I take two steps back, reforming my fist, ready to strike again.
Matthias, who has been very quiet during this exchange,shoves his hand in his jacket pocket and thrusts a collection of what looks like dust in Balores’s face, muttering, “Hyacintho flamma.”
Balores steps back in shock before he starts to scream. His face alights with blue flames, burning through his flesh.
“Run!” Matthias yells. He pulls me out of the Market, sprinting until we get to my car. I hop in and gun it, driving away in a tailspin.
As my speed stays far over the limit, tears slip down my face. We’re back to square one.
kit
. . .
Two Weeks Ago
I exitedthe body of the cat and went to find a suitable human body. I found a man in his late forties. Lived alone. No one to miss him right away. Perfect.
Shame pooled in my gut. Not only had I hurt the one person I cared about in this life of mine, I had the opportunity to truly keep her safe, and I didn’t take it. I was in Hell, and yet I did not make the effort to add the nameLacy Gordonto the Prohibited Possessions list. I landed days away from the list and I had a choice to make: travel all that way or get out of Hell as soon as possible.
I made the wrong choice.
So now, I needed to rectify that. I needed to go back to Hell. Once I decided that, it seemed ridiculous that I would ever not. I would do anything for Lacy, including trekking through actual Hell.
I closed my eyes tightly, focusing on Hell. However, Hellwas a large place, and if one did not have a specific location in mind, who knew where they’d end up.
My feet slipped when I landed, rocks tumbling down the tall peak as my hands shot out to catch myself before I tumbled down after them. Deep cuts slashed into my palms as I slid down, but I eventually managed to get a solid grip, swinging outward before slamming back into a wall of rock. “Oof.”
Well, it had been a while since I’d been rock climbing. I always liked rock climbing. Though when I would do this as a human, it was in a gym and not nearly as bloody.
With shaky arms, I pulled myself to more solid ground, falling to my ass as I observed my surroundings. I groaned when I realized where I was—the top of the goddamn Mountain. This Mountain was less mountain and more active volcano in a nearly deserted section of Hell. Fantastic.
I took a deep breath in and immediately started to hack. The air was so clean up here. Too clean.Blech.
One of the reasons demons thrived so well on Earth nowadays was because of pollution—dirty air was good air to us. I stared up to the tip of the Mountain. I heard rumors once that there was a passage to Heaven at the peak. I’d never believed them before, but now…?Should I…?No, they would never let me in.
I was far too close to somewhere I should never be. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing for now on the bottom of the Mountain. I didn’t budge. The clean air must have weakened me. I felt it in the heaviness of my arms and legs. I closed my eyes for an extended moment, understanding what would come next. I needed to trek down this mountain by foot.
With the first step I took downward, my feet slid on the rocks. I turned around. If I had to descend this mountain backward on my hands and feet, I would. I was not giving up now. Eyes trained on the dark rock before me, I crawled backward down the mountain, feeling ridiculous, until it got less steep. As soon as I could, I turned around, wiping bloody hands on my jeans, and descended the rest of the way on foot. When I got to the bottom, I better took in my surroundings, staring up at the red swirling clouds above that acted as the sky. The Mountain seemed tame today, at least compared to the last time I was here during my tour. That day, it had been spewing lava, running down the sides like waves ready to destroy Pompeii. This day, I could see a few random spurts of lava, posing immediate danger to me. Or the human I was possessing. I’d need to find a way to apologize for the cuts in his hands later.
I shook my head and turned away from the Mountain, taking in the long dirt road before me. There was a train down here that I could take to section A, where I needed to be, but from what I remembered, the train did not run through section J, where I was, avoiding this no man’s land and heading straight into section K, which housed souls. I’d have to walk to section I to find the nearest station.
I attempted to jump again, just in case, but I was still far too weak. I set off by foot, hoping I was heading in the right direction. There was a wooden sign along the road with a red-painted arrow, but it didn’t say what it was pointing toward. I followed it anyway. I walked for a solid day before I saw a sign of anything beyond dirt. I knew this section of Hellwas used as specialized torture, but I wasn’t too keen on experiencing it first-hand.
Structures started to grow around me, a few bars and stores. Though none of these establishments took money as currency. It was all done by trade, whether that was cursed objects, human souls, or cigarettes. I avoided all that but kept my eyes out for another demon. Finally, a red-headed one exited one of the bars, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Hi,” I said, approaching him and earning a suspicious once-over. “Do you know where the closest train station is?”
The demon sneered at me, out of actual distaste or pure habit I didn’t know. He didn’t say a word, just pointed behind himself.
