Zara sat down at Ramona’s desk, positioning the device carefully. The screen grew in size, resembling more of a tablet. Ramona was impressed with the cleverness of the magic, letting herself stare for a moment as Zara’s dark nail swiped on the HellBerry to accept.
The screen filled with a face that made Ramona cover a gasp with her hand.
The demon on the other end was beautiful in the way a knife was beautiful — sharp angles and deadly precision. Their skin had a faint gray cast, like stone, and their eyes were solid black with no visible iris or pupil. They wore a suit in deep burgundy, and their hair was slicked back so tightly it looked painful.
“Azareth.” The demon’s voice was smooth. Pleasant, even. “It’s been too long.”
“Theron.” Zara’s tone matched theirs perfectly — professional, courteous, empty. “Thank you for making time.”
Ramona tried very hard not to move. Not to breathe too loudly. From her angle on the bed, she could see both the HellBerry screen and Zara’s face in profile. Zara’s expression hadn’t changed. Corporate. Controlled. Nothing like the demon she’d come to know. She watched in awe and curiosity.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?” Theron leaned back in their chair — Ramona could see what looked like a sleek office behind them, all dark metal and glowing screens. “You’ve been topside for three weeks now. Your reports have been… surprisingly thorough, actually. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
“Which makes this situation all the more puzzling.” Theron tapped something on their desk. “You were supposed to sever the binding within three weeks. Standard protocol for accidental summons. Yet here we are, and you’re still… tethered.”
Ramona’s hands clenched in her blanket. She kept her eyes on her book.
“The binding proved more complex than anticipated,” Zara said smoothly. “The witch who summoned me used an archaic variant. I’ve been researching the proper severance method.”
“For three weeks.”
“It’s a delicate process. Rushing could result in magical backlash for both parties.”
Theron studied Zara through the screen. Ramona couldn’t read their expression. She wasn’t sure demons even had expressions in the way humans did — or maybe Theron was just that good at hiding them.
“I see,” Theron said finally. “And this… research. It’s been productive?”
“Very. I’ve identified three potential severance rituals. I’m currently testing their compatibility with the specific binding structure.”
“Fascinating.” Theron’s tone didn’t change. “And the witch? She’s cooperating?”
“Fully. She’s as eager to resolve this as I am.”
A lie. Or was it? Technically, they’d both agreed that neither of them wanted it to work the first time, so Zara’s careful wording was clever. Ramona watched the quick swish of her tail as she said it.
“Good,” Theron said. “Because I’m authorized to extend your timeline. Four weeks will be the new moon. That should be sufficient to sever even a complex binding.”
Four weeks.
Ramona’s chest felt tight. She knew. Deep down, of course she knew that Zara didn’t belong here, that Zara was a demon who belonged in Hell, but four weeks didn’t seem like a long enough time. Whatever had happened in the Bluebell Suite — and once in the car and twice since they’d been back in Ramona’s room — it had an end date. A definitive expiration.
“That’s generous,” Zara said. “I appreciate the flexibility.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Theron leaned forward. “There are conditions. You’ll need to submit weekly progress reports. Detailed ones. And you’ll be working remotely for the duration.”
“Remotely?”
“Your productivity has been excellent, Azareth. Better than it’s been in years, if I’m being honest.” Theron’s expression shifted slightly — was that approval? “Whatever you’re doing up there, it’s working. Your reports are thorough, your analysis is sharp, you’re actually completing projects ahead of schedule. The department heads have noticed.”
Zara said nothing. Ramona watched her profile, saw the tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth.
“So we’re willing to accommodate,” Theron continued. “Keep up the quality of work you’ve been producing, submit your severance progress reports, and we’ll handle everything else from this end. You can work from…” They glanced at something off-screen. “Wherever you are now.”
“That’s… unexpected.”
“Hell adapts. You know that. If remote work maintains productivity, we’ll implement it.” Theron’s fingers drummed on their desk — the first casual gesture Ramona had seen from them. “Between you and me? Your numbers are making my entire division look good. I’d be an idiot to disrupt that. However…”
