5
Max
Flames blaze wildly around me as I sit at a table perched on a rock that’s surrounded by a lake of boiling lava. Volcanoes erupt in the distance, funneling thick smoke into the smoky sky. I’d be okay with the scenery, except for the gargoyles dancing around me.
“I really hate the fucking pits of Hell,” I murmur as I thrum my finger against the stone tabletop, growing more irritated by the bubbling second. And not necessarily with the Queen of Hell, either. No, my frustration lies more in myself for ending up in this position. I don’t even fully understand how it happened.
Okay, that’s a lie.
I’m here because I made a terrible decision to help another creature. I haven’t done something this stupid in decades, so why the stupid demons did I suddenly start back up again?
I tap my fingers harder against the table. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t felt sorry for that little zombie-witch. I should’ve ditched her the moment I let Opal live—that’s not my normal demon MO. But no, I let the faerie talk me into turning her into a clown instead of taking her life.
“I’m known for my evil punishments, dammit!” I mutter, pounding my fist against the table. “A clown, Max? What the hell were you thinking?”
One of the shorter, winged gargoyles sneers, “Demon’s going soft. Demon’s in love with a clown.”
“Oh, shut it,” I snap then drop kick the little nuisance into the lake of lava.
Watching him scream and sizzle away gives me a drop of satisfaction, but not much.
“I am going soft,” I grumble, yanking my fingers through my hair.
“Yes, you are.” The Queen of Hell appears, her fiery dress matching the flames around me. Her hair is spun of ash and smoldering embers, and the strands hiss as she lowers herself into the seat across from me. “I have to say, out of all the stupid demons that I’ve stolen souls from, you’re definitely my favorite. Do you want to know why?”
“Not really,” I say with a tired sigh. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me, anyway.”
Her charcoal lips twist into a smile “Because you always seem too clever to make such a bargain. In fact, a lot of demons refer to you as the Untouchable.” The tips of her fingers emit smoke as she gestures at me. “Yet, here you are, right in front of me, with a sliver of your soul missing until you complete my task.”
“What do you want?” I ask, more than ready to get the hell out of Hell.
She surveys me closely. “So anxious, are we? Why?” She reclines in the chair across from the table. “You don’t have anyone waiting for you at your lair, do you?” The teasing flickers of flames reflecting in her eyes makes me frown.
She knows about Ryleigh? How?
“Of course not,” I lie. “I just hate this place, which you already know.”
She simply shrugs. “All demons do. This”—she motions at the landscape of flames around us—“reminds demons too much of what they once were and what they could become again if they don’t obey the Laws of Evil.”
“Oh yes, the Laws of Evil. The most important laws of the demon species.” I fight back an eye roll.
Almost all demons, including me, hate the Laws of Evil. Not because we loathe being evil. We just despise laws. And obeying. And listening to a power-tripping queen who has short, fat dancing statues for bodyguards. She’s powerful enough without the creepy, little, beady-eyed statues, which is why no demon has ever successfully overthrown her.
“They are important.” Smoke billows from her lips. “Without laws, there is no fear. And without fear, I can’t do whatever I want, can I?” She sweeps a flaming strand of hair from her blistering shoulder. “Besides, without the laws, demons would kill each other into extinction.”
She may be right. Still, it doesn’t make me like the laws.
I straighten in my chair. “As much as I’d love to sit here and chitchat with you about laws all night, I really need to get back to my lair. So, just tell me what the task is, so I can be on my way.”
Her eyes cloud as she leans in. “Fine. I can tell you’re in a rush, and since you clearly don’t want to tell me why, I’ll make this quick and easy.” She smirks, her lips sparking.
I cringe. Whatever she’s about to say isn’t going to be good. Then again, she’s the Queen of Hell—nothing she says is great.
“You currently have connections to a rare hybrid-creature from Mystic Willow Bay.” Her smirk broadens. “For your task, I want you to bring this creature to me.”
Fuck, that’s what she wants? Evalee?
My mouth sinks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do, Max.” She slants forward, slamming her hand on top of mine. My skin hisses as flames ignite across her flesh. “And you’re either going to bring this creature to me or I’m going to take your entire soul and own you for the rest of your miserable existence.”
I grit my teeth until my jaw aches. “Why?”
She stabs her fingernails into the back of my hand. “Why what?”
Blood pools from my skin, but I don’t so much as flinch. She can fuck with me all she wants, hurt me, make me bleed, but after what I endured during my childhood, physical pain is a piece of yummy sprite cake for me.
“Why do you want her?” I ask in an even tone.
More heat and flames pour from her flesh, scalding my hand. “That’s none of your concern. Your only task is to brin
g the zombie to me.”
“I need to …” I pause. “Wait. Zombie? I thought you said you wanted me to bring you a hybrid.”
“Yes, the hybrid-zombie you currently have in your lair. She was just created. Has a little bit of witches’ blood in her along with zombie and something else.” She gives a short pause, her smoldering eyes burning a hole into me. “Unless you have another rare hybrid-zombie hanging out in your lair?”
I shake my head. “Nope. In fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t even have one hybrid there.”
She laughs, but the sound is anything but cheerful. “Oh, Max, how I love it when you toy with me.” Her laughter fizzles as she brands the back of my hand with her fingerprints. “Just remember my warning. Bring me the hybrid-zombie, or your soul and you are mine.” Her foul breath fans across my face as she leans closer. “But I want the decaying process stopped before you bring her in. I have no use for a zombie that’s going to rot away soon.”
I carry her gaze as I nod, a portrait of calm. However, restlessness stews inside me over why she wants my little zombie pet and what she plans on doing with her. Plus, although I don’t want to admit it, the idea of handing Ryleigh over to the Queen of Hell isn’t sitting well with me. And that doesn’t sit well with me, either.
I internally grimace. Since when do I feel guilty about cursing another creature?
You don’t, Max, so why are you starting now?
My confusion only magnifies as the queen releases me. I instantly start conjuring up plans on how to get Ryleigh out of this. The moment I realize what I’m doing, I remind myself that I’m a demon and I’ll do what demons do best.
Put myself first, no matter the cost.
6
Evalee
“We have a huge problem,” my fake mom announces as she whisks into the library in the basement of my childhood home.