Understanding hit Ramona like cold water. “Oh. Right. The sixty-six-feet thing.”
“Yes, the sixty-six-feet thing,” Azareth repeated with a small nod.
“I don’t know. Maybe thirty feet?”
“Then you’re fine. Stay here.” Azareth opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
Ramona sat on her bed, feeling ridiculous, listening as hard as she could for anyone screaming. A demon was getting her water. A demon from Hell’s corporate structure was fetching her hangover supplies like some kind of evil assistant.
Her life had officially become a joke.
Ramona felt a strange tug in her ribs as the demon left her sight, but Azareth returned a minute later with a glass of water and two aspirin she’d apparently found in the bathroom cabinet. She set them on the nightstand. “Drink, Mortal. All of it.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“No, Mortal.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“No.”
Ramona sighed. “Why not?”
“Because it annoys you.” A mischievous light seemed to glint in Azareth’s eye. “And I have very little entertainment at the moment.”
Ramona took the aspirin and drank half the glass. The water was cold and delicious. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. This is self-preservation. If you’re incapacitated, I’m stuck sitting in that terrible chair indefinitely.”
Ramona rolled her eyes but finished the water. “I need to shower. I have work.”
“Work?”
“Yes. Work. The place where I exchange my time and dignity for money.” Ramona stood up again, slower this time. The aspirin hadn’t kicked in yet, but at least the room wasn’tspinning. “I’m going to be late. Again. Marcus is going to—” She halted. “Wait. Can you…?”
“Can I what?”
“The shower. The bathroom. It’s farther than the kitchen.” Ramona’s brain was trying to do math through the hangover fog. “How far is sixty-six feet in a straight line?”
“Approximately sixty-six feet, Mortal.”
“That’s not what I… You know what? Never mind.” Ramona thought that perhaps thiswasHell, and the spellhadkilled her, and now she was doomed to a lifetime of domestic torture.
Azareth smirked. “You’re asking if I need to be in the bathroom while you shower.”
“Yes.”
The demon raisedone perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a grin pulling the edge of her mouth to reveal one of her fangs. “Would youlikeme to be in the bathroom while you shower?”
Ramona glared.
Azareth pulled out her phone and tapped at the screen. “Bathroom is forty-two feet from your bedroom door. You should be fine. I can stay here.”
“How do you?—”
Azareth showed her phone screen in answer. “I have an app.”
“Of course you do.”
