Hell's Spells by Devon Monk

Hell's Spells by Devon Monk

Author:Devon Monk [Monk, Devon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Odd House Press


Chapter Fifteen

“Pick up the Feather, please.”

The demon stood directly across from me, the table between us. Since demons could choose to appear any way they liked, he was no longer in a uniform but instead wore a plain brown suit trouser with a white T-shirt tucked into it. He’d rolled the sleeves on the T-shirt, and instead of a belt, black suspenders buttoned at his waistband.

I took a second to really try to imprint him in my memory. Salt-and-pepper hair, dark brows, he resembled Jon Hamm, if the actor had gold eyes.

“Delaney, please pick up the Valkyrie Feather.”

I locked my arm tight against my ribs, but my hand reached out, lifted the Feather.

“Lay it across the bowl.”

My gaze shot up to him again. “No.”

He frowned. “Do it carefully.”

“No.” I said the word, but my hand was moving. “No,” I repeated, a little panicked.

He sighed, and my hand stopped moving.

“Why not?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Why don’t you want to place the Feather across the bowl?”

Here it was, where my words would be weapons, not shields. Carefully, oh so carefully, wielded.

“I want no part of this spell.”

“That’s non-negotiable, unfortunately. I give you my word that if this could have worked with any other person, I would have chosen that path.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

I was buying time. But no one was coming, so hopefully time would give me a chance to think up a way to escape. Or better yet, a way to trap him.

“I am a demon. The only way into Ordinary is by your agreement.”

“I didn’t agree to you being here.”

“True. I seized upon a small opportunity most demons would not have seen.”

“Let me guess. My wounded soul?”

He tipped his head. “You are healing very quickly. My nephew was careful in how he held your soul for all that time. It was much less damaged than it might be.”

“Bathin?”

He nodded.

“Bathin is your nephew?”

“I was shocked that he released your soul. That boy never lets go of something he likes. Did you know he carried around a dead nebula for centuries? It had a black hole pocket he liked to use to hide things from his father. As if the king didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Even when my nephew was called out before the hordes, maligned, ridiculed for keeping a dead nebula, he held on to that damn thing.

“Wept when his father imploded it.” He glanced at me and frowned. “No, don’t worry, the shock waves won’t hit this end of the galaxy for millions of years.”

“Bathin?” I said a little more quietly. Of all the things I’d expected, it was not that my captor was the uncle of the guy dating my sister.

“Yes. I was there on the beach when he used those scissors. Brilliant.”

“You couldn’t have been. There weren’t any other demons on the beach.”

He lifted his brows.

“In the vortex. You were on the other side of the vortex.”

“Just so. Now, place the Feather across the bowl, please.”

“The Feather won’t burn.” I knew that much about Valkyries: totally flame proof.



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