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“You two have a lovely evening,” the disgusting demon said to our backs.
Even though it was a pleasantry, it sounded like a very clear threat.
Gabe’s fingers practically burned into my skin as we exited the pub.
13
MARNIE
Gabe practically yanked me down the dock and back through the winding, depressing streets. Any ease or good humor he’d had at the bar was long gone. I hated it. We’d been actually having fun together, at least as much fun as two people can have over dinner in Hell, but then… his walls had come right back up again. He was lying about the demon at the pub simply being a coworker. Something else was happening, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to pry it out of him.
We ended up in front of an inn that looked like a bed-and-breakfast for serial killers. More gargoyles decorated the old Victorian’s gables and parapets, which were endless. The manor seemed to sprawl over several city blocks like a creeping disease. It was Shirley Jackson’s Hill House or the Overlook Hotel from The Shining. It was a lot of things, actually.
And none of those things were welcoming.
As if on cue, the skies opened up with a proper downpour above the dreary gray cityscape. We rushed into the manor, and the door closed like a thunderclap behind me. The noise was too loud in the manor’s old-fashioned foyer, but there didn’t look to be anyone around who would care. The place was dead. Heh, dead, get it?
“What is this place?” I whispered. It seemed too weird to speak at full volume.
“A place for people to stay who don’t want to be found,” Gabe said simply, though he spoke normally. I watched as he went to a small bookstand where an ancient, leathery guest book lay open. A fountain pen was beside it, and without warning, Gabe stabbed the metal nib of it into his wrist.
“What are you doing?!” I gasped, completely taken aback. At least the shock had made me stop whispering.
“Paying for our stay,” he said calmly like I was the crazy one.
The pen glowed red as it filled with whatever blood or life force Gabe fed it, and once it was fully blazing, he signed what I assumed was his name with a flourish. I tried to lean over and see it, wondering what his last name was, but as soon as he finished the final curl, the word was erased from the book completely.
From the center of the book’s binding, an old brass key began to emerge, sticking straight up like it was growing. With a sudden, final push, the book belched out the key with enough force to send it to the wooden floorboards.
Without another word, Gabe turned and made for the black wooden staircase, which was lined with a deep, plush purple floor runner. Candles and eerie portraits lined the walls, as did flocked wallpaper with an intricate print. It took me a moment to realize the pattern was of intertwining serpents and vines. Sometimes, they even looked like dollar signs. Keeping close to Gabe in the manor’s dark halls, I followed him up three flights until we reached a simple wooden door with a large brass lock. He fitted the key, then the door swung open, and I was relieved to see our room. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected.
A canopy bed was the centerpiece of the space, though the bright crimson wallpaper certainly caught your attention. The velvet bed curtains were in rich shades of scarlet and midnight blue. Golden stars and constellations dotted the fabric, and gold braiding lined the edges. There was a dark ebony wood vanity with a matching velvet stool, and on one wall stood a massive ornate mirror. Its reflection seemed off, and for a moment, I swear the glass rippled like the surface of a pond. Unable to help myself, I stepped closer. Inside the tarnished silver, I noticed a few ghostly forms behind the glass, as if they were trapped in the mirror itself. My ears buzzed a little like an annoying gnat or mosquito was nearby.
“Marnie,” Gabe said, and by his tone, I could tell he’d said it more than once.
“Um, hmm?” I said, barely able to pry my eyes from the glass.
“That’s enough of that,” he said as he dropped a heavy blanket over the frame. Immediately, the buzzing in my ears stopped, and I could finally tear my eyes away.
“Th—Thanks,” I stammered. “What the hell was that?”
“There are souls everywhere.” Gabe sighed, standing behind me as he motioned toward the glass. “Hell is a crowded place. I don’t always notice, but they probably sensed you.”
“Like a fucking… ghost bug zapper,” I muttered, then turned back toward the center of the room. Though the bed was absolutely gorgeous, and I was aching with exhaustion, there was one obvious flaw with our new digs.
“Oh, good, one bed,” I said with a sigh as I pointed to it. “It’s like a bad romance novel.”
Gabe frowned. “There are romance novels about Hell?”
I laughed. “Lord, there are romance novels about anything, but yeah, Hell is a totally viable romance setting. Women even read about demons and monsters and stuff.” I frowned. “Though having now seen an actual demon, I don’t think I’ll ever picture demon smut quite the same way. Anyway, the one-bed thing is sort of a trope… you know, like we’re forced to share?”
Gabe looked taken aback like I’d just told him to flirt with his own grandma or kick a puppy. “Why would we be forced to share? Why wouldn’t the man just sleep on the ground?”
“Aww,” I said, the sound escaping my lips before I even knew it. “You’re oddly chivalrous for a hell demon… thing. I mean, I was hoping you’d offer to sleep on the floor, but I wasn’t going to press the issue.”
“No, I will not sleep with you,” he said matter-of-factly. “That is… a poor idea.”
He stepped close, almost too close, and for one heady, shocking second, I thought he might kiss me. But he diverted at the last second and undid my collar. He gently took my chain and collar in his hands, leaving the feeling of his breath on my skin. My head swam for a moment, and my veins thudded with adrenaline.
