Page 30 of Realm of the Wicked

My eyebrows nearly hit my hair. ‘I didn’t think the Devil could be haunted.’

Damien rolled his eyes, making his way down the stairs. His silver rings glittered as he held onto the curved railing. ‘Full of jokes you are, Bambi.’

With one last look to the corner, I shook off the chill still trailing my back and followed him. ‘What else wants to hurt me in here?’

‘I don’t think you want to know the answer to that. But you’d do well to at least try and not leave your room after dark. If you do leave, you go right to wherever you’re going. Do not listen to anything that calls your name, don’t pay attention to things that you see out of the corner of your eyes, and do not, for the love of Hell, make any deals.’

‘I made a deal with you,’ I muttered.

He stopped in front of the dining-room doors Agatha pointed out, a cocky smirk on his face. ‘And how’d that end up for you?’

‘I’m stuck in between Earth and Hell with a broody asshole. How do you think it’s going?’ Standing tall, I pushed past him into the dining room.

Agatha was already seated at the massive table, silver covered dishes laid out in front of her. ‘Oh, Stella! I was worried you’d found yourself somewhere you shouldn’t. I’m so sorry, I should’ve come and gotten you from your room.’

‘No, please don’t apologize. I’m fine, really.’ I took the seat across from her. Agatha had changed from her casual clothes, and was wearing a beautiful linen dress of a rich, deep blue. I was quickly distracted from her outfit, because the aroma from the covered dishes was enough to make my mouth water.

‘She was not fine,’ Damien grumbled, sitting down at the head of the table. ‘The Nihil cornered her.’

‘Oh!’ Agatha’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. She opened up the first of the silver platters. Potatoes roasted with garlic and rosemary. ‘Well, obviously, she was smart enough not to listen to them.’

‘More like I got there just in time.’

I glared at Damien, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Fine. I could play this game, too. ‘Yes, well, it’s hard to know what you need to protect yourself against when you’re just told things want to hurt you. Very descriptive. Not vague at all.’

Damien finally snapped his gaze to me, glowering as he reached for one of the silver dishes. ‘And maybe some people need to learn to just listen and not ask inane questions.’

Agatha snorted, covering it up with a cough. ‘Sorry. Pass the carrots, please.’

I sat back and crossed my arms, mixed emotions swirling in my chest. I wasn’t sure how we could make jokes one moment, only for him to be cool and distant the next. And I really did need to understand more about the Fringe if he wanted me to stay safe. Although with the chill burning off him currently, I wouldn’t be shocked if he fed me to the shadows with a smile on his face.

‘Wine?’ Agatha waved a bottle covered in a translucent label.

‘Sure.’

She filled the heavy crystal goblet in front of me, blackcurrant and licorice filling the air. A sip of it told me just how good this wine was, smooth on my tongue. I closed my eyes, forgetting for a moment where exactly I was.

Agatha handed me a dish, and despite myself, I found myself ravenous. Rolls, still warm, glazed with butter and fresh herbs. Hello.

Sure, maybe I was in Hell, a slave to the Devil, but there wasn’t a problem bread couldn’t fix.

We passed dishes back and forth in relative silence, only the clinking of dishware breaking up the quiet. There was chicken, drowned in a rich mushroom sauce. A saffron risotto that melted in my mouth. Carrots sweetened with honey. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten this well. Maybe at Christmas, when Grace and I had done our best to scrounge together a real dinner. Even then, my cooking was nothing compared to Agatha’s.

I smiled, thinking back to our quiet holiday. I’d almost burned the turkey, but Grace’s quick thinking had salvaged it. We’d sat around in our paper crowns, Archie on my lap purring contentedly, while we read our fortunes for the year. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember what mine said. I could see the tiny scrap of paper in my mind, and hear Grace’s laugh as I read it out. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember my fortune.

I stuffed another bite of potato in my mouth as an attempt to not fall into a spiral. I sipped my wine, letting it warm me.

The silence continued while we ate, and I wondered if all of their dinners were this quiet. Maybe this was how they liked it, quiet.

Or maybe they just didn’t know any other way after being alone for so long.

Just when I thought I was so full, I could never manage another bite, Agatha pushed another silver dome toward me with a smile. Tiny crème brûlées hid beneath the top. My favorite.

There was no way she could’ve known. I cracked the sugar on top, unable to remember the last meal I’d had as good as this.

Finally, my fork down on my plate, I cleared my throat. ‘Agatha, this was incredible. Thank you.’

A flush rose up on Agatha’s cheeks, and she grinned. ‘It was nothing, really.’