Page 90 of I Hope This Email Finds You in Hell

“Headquarters hasn’t hosted a masquerade in a minute, so it took me a bit of digging to find them. These should do.”

I’m grateful for Chryser’s interruption, because I have no idea what the hell I would have said to Luke. Eager to break his imploring eye contact, I turn away to grab what Chryser holds out.

A black animal mask. The full-face kind with two ribbons that tie behind the head.

“A jaguar,” Chryser informs me. “They represent divine power and protection. You can probably use some of that tonight. Try it on.”

By the time I secure mine, Luke is already staring at himself in the mirror. His mask perfectly matches his face shape. Also black, it leaves holes for his eyes, nose, and mouth. I don’t realize what animal it is until I notice the small horns at his temple.

“A goat?” I laugh. “Sorry, it’s not half as cool as mine.”

And mine is cool. My face has transformed into that of a black jaguar, with spots in varying darker shades all over it.

“It really isn’t,” Luke agrees. “Do you have something else?”

Chryser doesn’t even think about it. “Nope. Only those two.”

Luke turns back to the mirror. I grin at him. The lips of the mask grin with me. How?

I try to remove the mask, but it’s stuck. Not just stuck, but fused to my skin. I can’t find where my jaw ends and the silicone begins. “What the hell is this? Luke, it’s—”

“Cursed.” He sighs, more annoyed than panicked, like I am. “Well, Chryser?”

Chryser’s unable to hide his mischievous smirk. “Yes, the masks are cursed. But you can take them off. Just relax and will it.”

I force deep breaths that have me sure I’ll rip a stitch. If this thing doesn’t come off—

Like a suction cup losing grip, the edge pops off my jaw. I pry it off my head, tearing a few of my hairs with it. Luke already has his off.

“Give us something else,” he demands.

“That’s all I’ve got.” Chryser shrugs. “You won’t get in without a mask, and if you do, the last thing you want to be is an easy target for the hounds. I’ve been more than generous, have I not?”

“You have,” Luke grits out. “Now we really have to get going. But one last question.”

Chryser grins. “Anything for you.”

Luke raises the mask. “All cursed things have a point of no return. What is it for these?”

“All that time in the overworld hasn’t made you forget everything after all.” Chryser’s eyes reflect a wicked gleam. “If you keep the masks on past midnight, they won’t come off. Ever.”

Twenty-nine

“Repeat the rules back to me,” Luke tells me in a hushed voice as we shuffle forward with a horde of bodies. We made it to Silicon Valley roughly an hour ago after another tense stint in bumper-to-bumper traffic and have spent the time since stashing the van on a side street and going over the plan for the evening. Phase 1: Get in undetected.

Hell Headquarters is composed almost entirely of black glass and rises so high into the sky that the upper floors disappear above the clouds. Despite the crystal facade, it’s impossible to see within. Everyone stuck in line with us wears masks, from beautiful, delicate pieces to grotesque abominations that make me equally afraid of what they hide. It’s like Halloween, but with the best-case scenario being survival instead of a king sized Kit Kat.

“No eating or drinking. No talking to anyone aside from each other. No dancing with anyone else. No letting each other out of sight. Am I forgetting anything? I didn’t expect a pop quiz,” I whisper back. While he’s growing increasingly agitated as we near the front doors, I’m stamping my nerves down with forced levity. Not very successfully.

His eyes flash behind his mask. “No deals.”

“What do you take me for? An amateur?” The ground shifts from harsh concrete to a plush plum carpet. We’re nearly at the entrance. My gut twists. “You’re sure we’ll get in?”

Luke nods. “There isn’t a strict guest list. More like a…non-guest list. But with everyone in masks, even that will be a challenge to enforce.”

He holds out his arm for me and I slip my hand through to link us. The double doors we approach are open wide, letting partygoers stream through them. On either side are pairs of hell hounds scanning everyone who passes. Thankfully, neither seem to be Zekiel or Badulf, though I don’t doubt they made it out of the Night Market by now.

“Ready?” Luke asks when only a handful of bodies separate us from the doors.