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Slang canted their heads slowly.“Yessss.”

Peri pressed a fist to her chest and bowed low in gratitude. Slang’s piercing gaze never wavered, silently waiting for the next question.

“Is everything happening in Hell because of me?” Peri asked, her voice tight with the weight of the words.

Slang’s heads tilted, eyes narrowing with interest. “We all have our part to play.”

Peri’s pulse quickened. “What’s my part?”

But Slang didn’t answer. The serpent had already turned, their massive form gliding away from her, dismissing her.

“I’ve ansswered all that I promissssed,” Slang’s voice echoed, calm and firm. “You may leave. May your viciousnesssss only grow, little hellion.”

Peri exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly, though her mind raced to process this new piece of information; the weight of her questions answered still hanging in the air. But there was no more to say so she raised her chin and strode out of Slang’s small but somehow intimidating stone chapel. Behind her, the serpents parted to create a narrow path through their writhing bodies.

She kept her posture strong and steady, her heart still racing as it always did after talking to Slang.

Chapter

Forty-Two

OLEANDER BRIGHTMORE

Asmodeus had become frantic in his attempts to enter Oleander and Hemlock’s home, screaming up at them as they remained hunkered down in their grief. But the wards around their home held strong, thus they were left in temporary peace.

Eventually though, their father’s temper cooled to something more akin to simmering displeasure. Oleander strode into one of his meetings with the other Grand Dukes—giving a fiery speech about his deep desire to make his father proud. He’d also found a bit of magic that would give his eyes a smokey look, which reminded them all that any day now, the Devil would be taking over his corporeal form.

His father had magnanimously given Oleander some menial task, before promptly escorting him out of the meeting. Asmodeus’s pride had been mended in front of his peers which was all he’d actually cared about in the end. And if Oleander helped him gain even more power? Then all the better.

Later, over drinks, Asmodeus had waved a dismissive hand. “This is why male demons make the best leaders. Demonesses can’t be pragmatic in these situations. Now she’s a damned tree, which helps nobody.”

Then Perine had gone missing and his father was eager to be the one to find her, to see if she possibly had power that he could be the first to exploit. Oleander had mentioned that he had in fact been Perine Wilder’s partner during their time at the Academy—he felt confident that he could find her.

Asmodeus had readily agreed, eager to show up the other Grand Dukes any chance he had.

Hemlock, however, sent their father a note with a few rude words—vowing to never work for him again. Instead, he spent his time helping Oleander track down Perine, searching every Circle of Hell for her.

Their first stop was Brennessel, who provided them with a rough outline of the plan Perine had crafted. Oleander followed the trail, tracking each magical creature Perine had intended to meet, while she gathered ingredients. According to Brennessel, Perine was preparing “a diversion of massive proportions.”

That trail soon grew cold. The contacts Brennessel had given them were crossed out, all no more than scribbled lines in a fading notebook.

In the end, Oleander had to resort to a bargain with Namble. He’d first tracked down two armloads of mystery novels that had made their way to Hell from the mortal realm. He’d heaped the books down in front of the small, strait-laced gremlin.

She’d given them a long look, before letting out a huff of annoyance. “Fair play, I didn’t imagine you’d be able to find that many but, here we are.”

“We did have a deal, Namble.” Oleander reminded her rather desperately. “I don’t know how many other ways I can say that I want to help her, damn it. I just need to find her first.”

Namble gave him a wary look, as if she was sizing up the honesty in him. It was strange because Perine had talked as if Namble disliked her. Except now, the gremlin was fiercely protecting Perine’s whereabouts.

Under her breath Namble said, “This is what I get for bargaining with tools.” Then she growled and turned her mistrustful eyes to him. “We had a bargain, yeah?”

Oleander gave a chastised nod. Even as he loomed over the gremlin, she scared him in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

“If you hurt her you know that we will find you and tear you limb from limb,” Namble said.

“I’d deserve nothing less,” he agreed.

Namble gave another frustrated growl. “Right. Well, she’s over at the gorgon’s lair.”