Page 124 of Hellbound

Marian uncrossed her arms and slowly lowered herself to the edge of the bed. “You said your family has worked for Vale for a long time. How did they get mixed up in all this?”

He maintained his smirk, but it no longer conveyed any humor.

“The story goes that my great-grandpa was an accountant who got drunk off his ass one night in Hong Kong then stumbled off a dock and nearly drowned. Vale saved his life. My great-grandpa figured he owed Vale a debt, and Vale wanted a bookkeeper. So he hired my great-grandpa, and Vale told him what he was. I guess it made a hell of an impression on him, because my great-grandpa initiated the bargain—he pledged his bloodline to Vale, that as time pressed on, he’d always have a Choi to help him.”

“That’s quite the story,” Marian said slowly.

“It’s mostly horseshit, but it’s how my parents explained it to me when I turned eighteen and it came time for me to ‘help out with the family business.’ Vale’s version is less trite and more believable.”

“What’s Vale’s version?”

Paul’s snorted. “That my great-grandpa was a broke swindler who bargained away his future family for job security.”

Marian placed a hand over her stomach. Jesus. “How is a deal like that even enforced?”

Paul made a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “A little bit of weird compulsory power, but mostly just fucked up family tradition. Vale’s paid my family well throughout the years, but to access the money, you have to agree to work for the family. If you don’t, you get nothing. But saying ‘yes’ means you have to learn where the money comes from and what Vale wants. And once you know the truth, you’re in for life. If you want out, you have to give the knowledge back to Vale. But sometimes that process doesn’t work right. His power isn’t stable here or something; he warned us all about it. My great-aunt wanted out of the deal after she learned about the Argent. Vale took the memory back, but she forgot who we were, too, and ended up with Alzheimer’s.”

Marian’s chest tightened in the ensuing silence as she stared at Paul. Disconcerting feelings took root inside her, feelings at odds with how determined she’d been to take her anger out on Paul. Like pity for the man whose life was stolen from him before he ever entered this world, presented with an offer few teens would refuse.

And then, alarm as understanding struck like a wrecking ball.

“Vale took the memory back.”

Paul cleared his throat.

“I spend half of every day pissed about Vale’s existence, and the rest pissed at my ancestor for making the choice he did. Then I get mad at myself for making the same choice. But I think I’d make it again in every lifetime because somebody has to do this, and why not me?”

His dark features drew tight in thought.

“You made Vale’s list because he trusts you,” Paul said as he faced her. “And honestly, you don’t suck that much. You always left a tip for me even though you were broke. After years of getting screwed by so many divers willing to sell their own mothers for a better deal, you showed him you were different. Yeah, you’re a fuckin’ mess, but neither life nor Hell has killed the good in you. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”

He stood up abruptly and shoved his hands in his pockets as he radiated discomfort. Like he knew he’d said too much and regretted it.

“Sorry about your dad. I heard he was pretty alright, too.”

Then Paul rushed out of the room and left her to brood over what she’d just learned. Her eyeballs throbbed in their sockets as she stared at the floor. Only one thought repeated in her mind.

Vale can take memories.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Marian opened her eyes to blood red light and the distinct sound of thousands of eggshells breaking all around her. And the overpowering stench of sulfur. She rolled out of bed and toppled to the floor with a loud retch, panic suffocating her thoughts.

She scrambled to her feet, mouth agape as she watched the forest green walls of her room peel and flake, the paint floating to the floor to reveal desiccated flesh stretched and torn all around her.

Hell. This was Hell. How? She was alive, unable to die. Vale promised.

She backed away as a black stain blossomed in the ceiling. The cracking sound devolved into metallic grinding.

Then the bone-deep thrum began, alerting her to the Remnant’s impending arrival. She had to warn the others. The ixyura was coming.

A loud groan from above shook the room just as the ceiling split open. The Remnant poured out, a thick, relentless tide. There was no time to escape. She’d barely moved from the bed when it swallowed her whole, dragging her down to crushing depths.

Where she became something else. Something her and yet not.

Time frays the rest of what she was until she is indistinguishable from the darkness that consumes her. There is no “here.” But wherever she is, it is not empty. Like her, they no longer have names; whatever they were is gone. Adrift in nothing, they become something else.

Lost. Hollow. Many.