Page 99 of I Hope This Email Finds You in Hell

Like Luke, he’s startlingly attractive. Tall and lean, with a sharp jaw and dark hair that frames his face, making his fair skin stand out. His eyes are just as dark, rimmed with thick lashes that create spiderweb shadows across his angular cheekbones. In his gaze, a crazed spark of power shines—the only tip-off that he is not who he seems.

Unlike Luke, he is terrifying. Beautiful and ethereal and terrifying.

He saunters to the far side of the room, pausing at a desk. He swaps the mask for the crown sitting on it. It’s the same one from the portraits downstairs, with jagged black edges that glint in the low light. Like everything around us, it appears to be made of glass, but I know better—it’s obsidian.

“It doesn’t have to be like this.” Luke strains against his binds. I don’t even bother—if he’s not strong enough to break them, I’ve got no shot. “Let’s have a conversation. Talk it out.”

Dante’s laughter rings through the cavernous room, mirthless and maniacal. He sharks around the table, kicking out the chair at the end that’s to my right and Luke’s left. “Talk it out? Is that what you really want?” He leans forward to get in Luke’s face. Luke holds Dante’s glare with his own. “For once in your life, be fucking honest. You’re here to kill me.”

Luke huffs in annoyance. “No, I’m not. I’m here to fix the veil. Which, by the fucking way, why haven’t you? You have one job and you can’t even do that?”

God, please don’t let a you have one job joke come out of me right now, I pray, though I’m guessing God doesn’t listen much down here.

Dante fumes. “I tried. It’s a piece of shit and you know it. You were the one who was good at fixing it. Why do you think I sent Beliar after you?”

“To finish the job you didn’t have the guts to do,” Luke parries.

“You think me getting you to banish yourself to the overworld was because I didn’t have the guts to kill you? I don’t know if you recall, brother, but you couldn’t die. You had turned. Making you sign those papers wasn’t a death sentence—I was trying to save you, you ungrateful dick.”

Luke blinks at him, wholly caught off guard.

“It all makes sense,” I murmur, drawing their attention. I look at Luke. “You weren’t sure if he was the devil when you left because he wasn’t. Your mom said he banished you. But really…”

“I banished myself, technically,” Luke admits. “But only because he tricked me into signing the paperwork for pardoning someone to the overworld. I didn’t realize it until too late.”

“And whose fault is that?” Dante taunts. “You didn’t read the fine print. You never did—just trusted me to. You were becoming lazy and reckless. I was basically running the show at that point, so I figured, why not make it official? But I couldn’t do that without killing you, and you were too far gone to be offed anyway, so I took the only option I could. I sent you to the overworld in hopes it’d restore your humanity. Seems I was right.”

Luke’s lips part in shock, emotion crossing his face. He shakes his head. “All this time…I thought you did it to get rid of me.”

Dante plops onto the chair he kicked out. His crown tilts on his mess of curls. “I mean, yeah, partly. You were a fucking asshole toward the end.”

Up close, I can make out the rings of dark green that make up Dante’s irises, though they’re nearly swallowed by his black pupils. The tail of his left brow has a split in it from a white, faded scar. Luke carries his broadness in his shoulders, but Dante is long and lean. It makes me wonder when was the last time he ate.

“I’m sorry,” Luke forces out.

“How was it?” Dante’s mocking tone betrays a hint of genuine curiosity.

“How was what?” Luke asks.

“The overworld. Was it everything we used to dream about?”

Luke swallows, gaze turning sad. “Even better. And sometimes worse. It’s not like here. There is good. But if we don’t fix the veil, it’s not going to stay that way.”

Dante contemplates this. “I’m starting to think that might be for the best.”

Luke frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dante shrugs. “Sure, at first I tried to fix the veil. Even sent Beliar after you to come back and deal with it. Though I knew he didn’t care for the veil to get fixed and suspected he’d disobey me, so that was mostly to get him out of my way before he tried to usurp me.”

“A woman died,” Luke stresses. “Three others would have if we hadn’t saved them. Many more will if we don’t fix the veil. All kinds of hell beings have slipped through in the months since it tore. You’re supposed to keep them here. It’s your job.”

Dante rolls his eyes. “So the other devils have reminded me. But as time wore on, I caught glimpses of the overworld and all its flaws through the torn veil and started to realize maybe a little hell on earth wouldn’t be so bad.” Dante grins, a glimmer of excitement in his dark eyes. “Maybe it’s time we branch out. Merge. Imagine the fun if we were all one big, happy family.”

“It’d be chaos,” Luke counters.

“I’ve grown a taste for it. Thanks for bringing this back to me, by the way.”

Dante rises. From his belt, he pulls out Luke’s dagger, tossing it onto the table. It lands on its side, pointing at the windows Dante walks toward, keeping his back to us.