The hard part wasn’t the retreat. The hard part was figuring out what came after, when Lilith’s fifteen-year plan finally revealed itself.
But that was a problem for tomorrow.
Tonight, she had leftover dumplings and a demon who loved her. The rest could wait until morning.
CHAPTER 9
The Avalon Resort sprawled across twenty acres of Hamptons coastline like something out of a fever dream.
As Victor’s Tesla wound up the private drive, Ava counted three fountains, each more elaborate than the last. The third one featured marble cherubs that seemed to track their car with empty eyes. She watched them in the side mirror until they disappeared around a curve.
“Tell me again why a law firm needs a corporate retreat that looks like Gatsby threw up on Versailles?”
“Team building.” Victor’s tone suggested he’d rather build a team in one of the hell dimensions. “And risk management, apparently.”
She’d changed outfits three times before Victor’s car arrived. The burgundy. The blue. The burgundy again.
Now, pulling up to the valet stand beneath a portico that could shelter a small army, she wished she’d packed a fourth time.
Or set everything on fire and called in sick.
The valet who approached wore a uniform that cost more than her monthly rent. His smile was professionally blank, but when he looked at Victor, his hands went still on the car door.
“Penthouse suite for Morningstar,” Victor said, handing over the keys.
The valet actually bowed. “Of course, Mr. Morningstar. Your luggage will be delivered immediately. The Celestial Penthouse, as requested.”
Ava waited until they’d passed through the revolving doors into the lobby before hissing, “Celestial Penthouse?”
“The partners insisted on the best room.” He sighed. “One room.”
The lobby swallowed them whole.
Marble floors veined with gold stretched toward a ceiling painted with clouds and angels, or what were supposed to be angels. The longer Ava looked, the more wrong the figures seemed. Wings folded inward like broken umbrellas. Mouths frozen mid-scream rather than mid-song. One of them appeared to be weeping blood, though that might have been a trick of the light.
The air smelled like expensive flowers and old money, with something underneath: sulfur, faint but unmistakable, like the ghost of a match struck hours ago.
Other guests milled about in designer clothes and practiced smiles. Ava caught glimpses of wrongness everywhere: a woman whose reflection lagged half a second behind, a man whose shadow stretched toward light instead of away, a couple holding hands with fingers that bent backward at the knuckle.
“Victor!” Lilith’s voice cut through the ambient noise like a blade through silk.
She glided toward them in crimson that matched her lips, looking like she’d been here for hours. Days. Possibly since the building was constructed, waiting for this exact moment.
“Don’t you both look… cozy.” Her eyes traveled over them slowly: Victor’s hand on Ava’s back, the way they stood close enough to share warmth. “Almost like a real couple.”
“Lilith.” Victor’s hand pressed firmer against Ava’s spine. “I wasn’t aware you’d arrived early.”
“Oh, I came yesterday. Wanted to ensure everything was perfect for the verification protocols.” Her smile sharpened, showing teeth that seemed slightly too white. “The partners are deeply interested in observing all the claimed couples this weekend. For liability purposes, of course.”
“Of course,” Ava said, matching her tone. “Can’t have fraudulent claims costing the firm money.”
Lilith’s expression sharpened. For a moment, something ancient and hungry flickered behind the beautiful mask. “Exactly. Though I imagine real couples have nothing to worry about. The ones truly in love should find this weekend absolutely delightful.” She tilted her head, birdlike. “Don’t you think?”
Derek materialized at Ava’s elbow before either could respond. He looked like he’d slept in his suit, dark circles carved beneath his eyes.
“Hey. So. I have news.” He glanced at Lilith, then away quickly. “Malphas redesigned the trust exercises. They’re now legally binding.”
“What does that mean?”
