Page 57 of I Hope This Email Finds You in Hell

“She looks like she could kill you,” I tell him honestly, admiring her tight leather pants, stiletto boots, and bright scarlet lips.

“She’s already tried,” he mutters. “Please go.”

It’s the please that does it. “As long as you promise not to actually die.”

“Go.”

Outside, I amble over to the window Luke and I approached before to reserve a room. A new person is inside the small hut, a boy who looks like he can’t be much older than fifteen. He’s pale, with messy dark waves that hang in his amber eyes.

“Can I help you?” Boredom drips from his tone. Glad to know teenagers are the same no matter what world they’re in.

“We were waiting on a room to be ready. I think it’s under Luke?”

He flips through a notepad at a sloth’s pace, pausing for five seconds to yawn. “Follow me.”

We walk up a set of outdoor stairs and down a row of doors, stopping at one with the number twenty-one in tarnished brass. He unlocks the door. Before handing me the plastic motel key chain, he breathes in deeply, eyes shut. When he opens them, the color has shifted to something darker, indiscernible with the lack of lighting. “Enjoy your stay.”

My fingers fumble for a light switch since the room is cloaked in shadows. When I flip it on, I yelp at what’s inside.

A lone double bed.

“Sorry, but we asked for a room with two separate—”

I turn to the teenager, or where the teenager was. He’s gone. All that remains is the cool night air ghosting across my skin like a warning, though I don’t know what for.

Before getting too comfortable, I go through all my usual home-away-from-home checks. Making sure no one’s under the bed or in the closets, pushing the shower curtain all the way to one side, pressing my finger to the mirrors to make sure there’s a space and they’re not double-sided. The room passes everything, except for the vibe check. It’s dated, with a dingy green carpet I’d rather peel off for fun than sleep on top of, and though there is a love seat against the far wall, it’s too short for me or Luke to lie horizontally on since we’re both tall.

I turn to the bed, taking in all its paisley-patterned comforter, one-mattress glory.

A laugh burbles up my throat, starting small and turning hysterical. Krystal would be fucking dying if she knew I was about to share a bed with the admittedly attractive—yeah, I have bad eyesight, but it’s not that bad—man she’s been teasing me about. She’d tell me I might as well be a character plucked straight out of her favorite romance novel.

And maybe I could be. If that character happened to also be in hell.

The laughter subsides, leaving my cheeks wet with tears. I drop back onto the bed so I’m lying down with my legs off the edge. How did I end up here? Not just literally here, at a skeevy motel in hell, but as a twenty-seven-year-old med school dropout with no future, no prospects, no family. And maybe no job, since I’m technically playing hooky right now, thanks to having no PTO yet. Though the whole missing thing might grant me a pass. If anyone’s even noticed I’m gone, which I doubt.

In the silence, noises float toward me. The rumblings of voices in the room next door, the wind picking up outside, the distant moans of someone using the motel as a campground for sinful delights. I wish there was a TV so I could flip to a random channel and tune it out. Do they have Food Network in hell? HGTV? Streaming services? I’ll have to ask Luke.

Luke, who I’ll have to share a bed with. If he even comes back. I’m growing more doubtful as the minutes tick past. Something was off between him and the woman. The way he was trying to leave before she saw him, and how her smile grew when she said the words “old friend.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s his ex.

Which is fine. I have an ex, too, albeit not in this world. He doesn’t exist in the same league as the woman, but neither do I. The thought makes something inside me plummet, though I really don’t want to examine why.

A knock sounds, followed by Luke’s voice. “It’s me.”

I scramble off the bed to let him in. He makes it two steps inside before noticing our predicament. “I asked for two beds.”

“I know. I tried to tell the kid working, but he didn’t stick around to listen. I already slept in the van, so the bed’s all yours.”

He frowns, noticing the love seat. “I can take that.”

“I’m not tired.” Suddenly, I’m annoyed, though I can’t pin the reason. “Take the dumb bed. Besides, we’re adults. If I do want to sleep, we’ll just have to share. It’s not a big deal.”

I say the words, but by the way the room suddenly feels like a sauna, I’m not sure it’s the truth.

“How’d things go with that woman?”

He shrugs off his jacket, laying it over the back of the love seat, though it falls to the cushions, thanks to its weighted pockets. From his belt, he removes the dagger and places it on the nightstand.

“Look at the clouds.”