Page 94 of Hellbound

Marian sat in a wide chair of supple brown leather. She’d wasted her twenty minutes of solitude fending off a panic attack instead of showering, and her skin had begun to feel like a crusty cage.

Tori occupied the chair’s twin beside her as Paul thumbed through some tome he’d plucked from a shelf.

Unlike the spartan modernity of Vale’s Presidium office, this one exuded personality and old-world charm. She stared at the crystal decanter nestled between an antique globe and stack of yellowing papers.

Then there were the dozens of Hell-tinged artifacts ensconced in clear glass boxes on the highest shelves. A room full of curiosities, two antsy women, and one bartender-slash-hitman pretending to read. Vale had yet to arrive.

Marian stared at the row of time-worn objects. What part did they play in all this? Or were they just another facet of the lie Vale perpetuated?

What was it all for?

“It was an experiment,” came the answer to her unspoken question. Marian swiveled around as Vale strode over in a whorl of black and took a seat in the high-backed chair behind his desk. “Many years ago, I heard rumors of humans returning from death with memories of a Hell that sounded much like the world I left behind. I needed to know if your dead truly breached the veil. Like any good scientific process, proof comes from repetition. But the Argent grew suspicious of my activities. So, I fabricated the story of memory association. Again and again, humans embarked on the journey through death, retrieving evidence that my home persisted, and that the veil would not hold.”

“I died for these. So did a bunch of other people,” Marian said, deadpan. “You—the Argent—paid fortunes for them.”

Vale smirked. At least she thought it was a smirk—she couldn’t tell what his face was doing anymore with all the cracks in it.

“It’s been a reliable way to make them gamble away their money these past few decades.”

“How long has this been going on? How long have you all been here?” Tori asked.

Vale’s gaze shifted to the traveler, his eyes glimmering like stars adrift in the cosmos.

“Centuries, though the concept of ‘divers’ came about very recently. Thirty years ago, perhaps, though in those early days, it was difficult to convince potential divers to risk their lives. Resuscitation methods were less reliable, permanent death more common. Simply finding someone who had passed through the veil was a feat until the internet.”

Decades of divers. Years of people throwing themselves into a world that wasn’t theirs. It made Marian wither inside. “Who was really supposed to find the knife?”

“Someone who was prepared to do what was necessary. But he died,” Vale replied briskly. Smoke billowed around the creature’s shoulders and dissipated with a subtle shrug. “You bear the mark now, and we really don’t have time for whatever crisis of conscience you’re going through.”

Marian opened her mouth, ready to bite his head clean off his shoulders when he raised his voice.

“We have the element of surprise. Verinne has barely begun interrogating her staff about Roman’s demise. They all suspect I’ve been plotting against them, but they have no idea what’s in store. Neither Verinne nor any other Argent know where you are or what you can do. I intend to capitalize on that and savor their downfall.”

Every word made Marian’s stomach churn anew. “So then … what do we do?”

Vale sat back, long limbs of smoke fluttering across the desk as he opened a drawer and withdrew a crisp white piece of card stock emblazoned with curly silver writing.

“In three days’ time, Verinne will attend a very exclusive gala hosted at the Getty. She never refuses an opportunity to rub elbows with high society. Every year, I decline my own invitation, as per the rule of one. This year, you will attend on my behalf, isolate Verinne, and kill her.”

Ice flushed through Marian’s veins.

“You want me … to go to this gala by myself. And kill Verinne. In public.”

“Not alone. Paul’s made arrangements to work the gala as wait staff and will help you navigate the event. I will make my presence known when it’s prudent.”

Marian stared at him. “Are you fucking serious?”

The floorboards creaked behind her. Paul stepped forward.

“You said there’d be backup.”

Vale’s otherworldly eyes sliced across the room like daggers at Paul. “I am the backup. And Marian can’t die so long as her oath remains unfulfilled. No harm will come to her.”

“Death isn’t the only kind of harm out there,” Marian said bitterly.

That time, Marian saw something scathing in his creepy blue gaze.

“Verinne is just one … Argent,” Tori said pleadingly as she looked around the room. “Won’t killing her in public, like … I don’t know, throw the world into chaos? And tip off literally every other Argent? Do you have some elaborate assassination planned for them all?”