1
CATALINA
“Iwill ask again. Are you sure?”
I’m not sure what it says about my life that I’m sitting in a sticky booth at a dingy hole-in-the-wall bar staring at a handsome dark-haired white guy. Except, apparently, he’s not a guy at all.
Or at least not human.
One would never know he’s a demon just by looking at him, but as Azazel turns his head, the light glints strangely off his eyes. A flash of red that sends a shiver down my spine. Not that I’m about to let a little fear dissuade me.
I have nowhere else to go. My family have finally washed their hands of me. My friends are tired of my bullshit and have faded away. But the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back was getting fired last week. I may or may not have been atinybit behind on my rent, and my landlord says I have to be out by the end of the month.
Tomorrow.
When you’re at rock bottom, sometimes the only thing to do is keep digging.
Azazel shifts, and the shadows seem to flicker strangely around him. They sure as hell aren’t following normal patterns in response to the neon lights over the bar. “Catalina.”
I jolt. “I’m listening.”
“This is of the utmost importance.” He leans forward and braces his elbows on the table.
I wince a little, because it’s just as sticky as the booth and his suit looks expensive. “Really, you probably shouldn’t touch anything in here. You’re going to ruin your suit, and, like, I don’t know if demons have money, but you’ll definitely need to drop a metric shit-ton on dry cleaning.”
He sighs, and it takes the wind right out of me. I know that sigh. It’s the “Catalina is wasting my time” sigh. I’ve heard it in countless variations over the years. From my parents, my teachers, my bosses. I am nothing if not consistent.
Catalina, the disappointment.
I clear my throat and work hard to smother the desire to prove I’m exactly the disappointment he already decided I am. Living up to expectations. Or down to them, more specifically.
“I read the contract.” I hadn’t believed that any of this was real, but at this point, a demon peddling contracts can’t be worse than my human options.
Mainly, having to crawl back to my mother and beg her to let me move home. The thought makes my stomach roil. I’ll do anything to avoid that outcome.Anything. “I accept.”
Azazel makes a slight move that’s almost a flinch. “If you need more time to think—”
“I don’t.” I speak too fast, too frantically. It takes effort to inhale slowly and moderate my tone. “I read the contract,” I repeat. “I accept the terms.”
Seven years of service in the demon realm.
But at the end of it, I get what I most desire.
Mainly, money. Enough that I’ll never have to worry about it again, will never be beholden to anyone ever again. I want to spend the rest of my life on a yacht surrounded by beautiful people who will dribble champagne into my mouth and feed me strawberries and tell me I’m pretty. Who will never decide I’mtoo muchand withdraw their attention and love. Yeah, I’ll have bought that love, but if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that money paves the way to happiness. If that happiness is false and lasts only as long as the money does, who gives a fuck?
The only person who can tell the difference will be me, and I’m happy to close my eyes and pretend.
Azazel looks at me for a long moment, then finally nods. “So be it.” A flick of his long fingers, and the contract rolls out across the table in my direction.
All the details are the same as when I last read it. Seven years. I’ll serve, but no one can force me into doing something that will harm me. If I become pregnant, I will leave my baby in the demon realm when I return to this one.
I have absolutely no intention of getting pregnant, so that’s not an issue.
A pen appears next to the contract, and I don’t hesitate. I grab it and scribble out my signature. “Are we going now?”
The contract rolls back up toward him, and he grabs it. He narrows his eyes at me. “Normally, there’s more fear and weeping.”
He’s scary, but he’s nowhere near as scary as my mother, who’s so cold, she might as well have been carved from ice. It doesn’t matter what I do or say, because she won’t give me even the smallest reaction. Whether he knows it or not, he’s saving me from having to prove her low opinion of me correct. Again.