“What can I do to get your buy-in here?” Brad asked. “This is it. This is the moment before everything changes. Really changes. We’re sitting on a unicorn, and by the end of the day everyone will know. I could use some real team players who think outside the box and are ready to give it one-hundred-and-ten percent. No, one-hundred-and-thirty percent. Who really embrace the vision. Are you going to be that for me, Morgan?”
Be his yes-man, he meant. And yet. For a moment, she couldn’t help but picture it. A real title that people respected. No more scutwork—she could have people for that. “I’ve done my best to step up.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. You show some real potential as a marketer.” He turned a megawatt smile on her, the first time she’d been the direct recipient. Suddenly, she remembered again how he’d gotten to where it was. “That’s why I’m thinking, if we can pull this demo off the way I know we can, and really land this plane with Ravenfell and Luke’s people, we’ll officially get you out of that SDR shit and into marketing where you belong. With commensurate compensation, of course.”
It was exactly what she’d been telling herself she wanted.
At the price of other people’s souls.
Brad saw her face twist. “It’s the souls thing, isn’t it.”
Was there a point in denying it? “Yeah, it’s the souls thing.”
“Doesn’t seem to be doing me much harm, does it?” He smiled and spread his hands, narrowly avoiding smacking a guy dressed like a raccoon handing out postcards with QR codes. “Although I should be off the hook after the firstbatch of happy users. Think of it this way—we’re not denying people’s lifesaving treatments like the health insurance industry. We’re not accelerating the death of the Earth like petroleum, or working a bunch of Cambodian orphans half to death like the garment industry, or destroying people’s attention spans and sense of reality and our political system like the social media folks, or taking down publishing and education and rational thought in general like LLMs. All we’re doing is shaving off a little bit of their afterlife, and giving them healthy and delicious smoothies in return. They’ll barely notice. And when this thing takes off—and it will, thanks to our friends in low places—I think a little profit-sharing would be in order. You’ve got stock options already—maybe some soul options as well?”
She shook her head slowly. Bel’aliol held the stick. Here was the carrot. She was damned if she didn’t anyway. And who would thank her for holding out? Her mother was so focused on taking down Valefar—there was time to warn Brad and Bel’aliol. They’d find a way to counter Council interference somehow. It wasn’t like the busybodies had ever done anything for her. Not so much as an offer of therapy after the Penguin Incident. They seemed perfectly happy to let the magical world take advantage of the mundane as long as no one noticed. Whether it was the siren with the ad agency or the guy from elementary school skipping the need for expensive exhibitry with his illusions, everyone else got theirs. Once her mom got Valefar kicked out of Manhattan, the whole war thing would die down. She could still avert an apocalypse and still not lose her apartment in September. It wasn’t fair. She had always pictured turning down damnation as a one-time deal—stand strong in the face of temptation,then everyone claps and the credits roll. It was more like the box of cookies in the cabinet, where you had to somehow summon the willpower to say no over and over and over. And she was so tired of resisting when no one else seemed to care.
“What would that look like?” It was just asking. It wasn’t agreeing to anything.
He smiled. “I’m thinking a special class of investors. For the ones ‘in the know,’ so to speak.”
“You’d put me in an investor class? I don’t actually have any money to invest, you know.”
“Part of your compensation package with the promotion. Or perhaps a merit bonus.”
A bonus made up of human souls, she reminded herself. Fractions of them, at least.
“If you’re the more altruistic type, you don’t have to use it on wealth, you know,” he said.
“They don’t allow wishes that decrease wanting,” she pointed out quickly.
He laughed, delighted. “See, I knew these guys were good. Don’t allow wishes that decrease wanting. Brilliant. But even if you know you’re on the old hedonistic treadmill, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride, right?”
Unless the world exploded in an apocalypse, she reminded herself.
And yet.
“What exactly do you want from me here?” It wasn’t her marketing acumen, she was sure. Sure, she’d done a good job and he’d noticed for once. But she was under no illusions she was irreplaceable.
“Your mom is involved with our partners somehow, isn’t she,” he said.
She kept silent.
“Thought so,” he said, and she realized her mistake too late. She should have been confused. “But we can fix it all, if you’ll help. You know who knows. You tell your boyfriend who needs a little memory wipe.”
“They can tell there’s Infernal magic being worked,” she protested, off-balance.
“Pin it all on GreenField.” Brad shrugged. “Lots of birds for one stone.”
It could work. If her mom took down Valefar, surely that would avert the apocalypse, wouldn’t it? And then the door to letting the soul-securitization scheme take care of her debt was open again. She could even make up for letting her mom find out about Lucareoth. He’d have the power to make her mom forget all about him, if Brad were the one requesting it. She could protect them both. Maybe.
“Sleep on it,” he said as they reached the Zabloom booth, punching her shoulder. “But not right now, we’re about to hit the Disruptors Stage!”
She needed to talk to Lucareoth. She’d done too much making decisions for people. But she was tired of never getting anything that was really important to her. What was she willing to risk?
“Ladies and gentlemen, please join us at the main Disruptors Stage for our opening keynote,” boomed a pleasant voice over the sound system. Already, people were funneling out of the Exhibit Hall toward the escalators that would take them to the Disruptors Stage theater.
Lucareoth was nowhere to be found. And she was running out of time.
