Page 24 of Realm of the Wicked

I didn’t need to see behind me to know Stella had tensed, shifting closer to me, whether she realized it or not. If I could dream, I imagined I’d dream about ripping Clarissa’s smug face off, leaving her body behind for Luna.

But I couldn’t dream, and Clarissa was a problem best dealt with politically instead of physically.

I steadied myself, counting backward in my head. She wouldn’t instigate me. Not today. ‘Stella will be here for the foreseeable future. I am sorry I didn’t request the prior approvals, but the situation required me to move quickly. I assumed you’d understand that, especially considering your own situation, no?’ I smiled, letting the expression slither across my face.

Pleasure bloomed through my chest when Clarissa blanched. ‘Of course,’ she spat.

I’d been just as shocked as Stella to discover that Hell had a Council. Checks and balances. They made sure I didn’t burn down the world, and I vetoed any of their inane suggestions.

They could also remove me from power, if they chose to do so. Right now, I was safe from that fate. As much as Clarissa couldn’t stand me, replacing me would mean a lot more work for the two quiet demons standing behind her. Someone would have to retrieve the souls and transport them to Hell. No one enjoyed the travel between realms. The Fringe required a devil to remain standing, and Hell required the Fringe.

‘Besides,’ I continued sweetly, ‘surely, we have more than enough souls to keep the Balance right now. One shouldn’t make a difference.’

‘You know as well as I do that our laws are sacred! One missed soul could mean the end of us,’ Clarissa snarled.

Yes. The end of us. How tragic. Not that we all hadn’t lived for far too long already. Sometimes, I wondered how much of Hell was keeping the Balance and how much was for a small group of people’s selfish pleasure. Without an excess of souls to power our magic, how would Clarissa maintain her appearance?

I waited for Clarissa’s breathing to level out, anticipating the way her sharp eyes turned on Stella. ‘And your name would be?’

I locked gazes with Stella over my shoulder, giving her a brief nod. Please, for her sake, let her remember not to give them any ammo.

Stella chewed on her lip, and sidestepped me. Every cell in my body demanded I step in front of her again, to protect her from this potential threat, but I shoved it down. Getting possessive would only make this situation worse. Clarissa would clock my behavior in an instant.

‘Stella,’ she said, her voice strong and sure. ‘My name is Stella.’

‘And do you know where you are?’ Clarissa was a snake, a winding, twisting thing who I doubted had a soul even before she was a demon.

There was no way she had ever been good.

Stella shrugged. ‘Not on Earth, and not in Hell. An in-between place, I guess. Damien called it the Fringe.’

Clarissa nodded. ‘Correct. I’m assuming Damien explained to you that only certain kinds of people are allowed to exist in the Fringe?’ Her voice lilted, soft and charming.

It only fueled my anger. Fuck. I hated her. I shot a quick glance at Stella, who frowned. Don’t say more than you have to. Don’t give them anything.

Nothing was free in Hell. And in a place where there was very little that was truly yours to give, information was the most valuable thing.

The silence stretched before us. I couldn’t do this. I spoke up before Stella could. ‘She only arrived last night. I haven’t had time to explain everything to her.’ Nor did I have any plan to, because those rules didn’t apply to Stella.

I’d make sure of it, one way or another.

Clarissa glared at me. Her appearance flickered briefly with her annoyance, the mask fading away for a brief moment, dark scales exposing themselves across her skin. ‘I wasn’t asking you, Damien. I was asking Stella. Please refrain from putting words in your guest’s mouth.’

I didn’t like the way she rolled the word guest around.

When Stella looked over at me again, unsure, I nodded.

I could take the three of them, if it came to it, but the mess it would leave would be more than just blood. I wasn’t prepared for the aftermath of it. Yet.

‘He said I wouldn’t age?’ Stella offered in a quiet voice. ‘He said things move differently here.’

‘They do. But it’s for a specific reason.’ Clarissa smiled, showing far too many teeth. The skin on her cheeks stretched too thin, showing bone that deserved to remain hidden.

I should’ve told her. I should’ve fucking explained everything to her before they showed up.

‘We age differently in the Fringe – and in Hell, for that matter – because our souls are held in stasis. It’s the tradeoff we make. Immortality for our souls. The souls we collect in turn power our magic.’ Clarissa turned her awful smile onto me. ‘Damien was supposed to take your soul upon your arrival. It’s held in Hell until you choose to pass from the Fringe to the other side. Collateral, if you will. It makes sure that you don’t use your immortality for nefarious reasons. And to maintain our delicate Balance. Those souls in stasis are what keep us on our feet. They power Hell. Nothing functions if we lose the Balance. If we start letting people live here freely, well…’ She laughed, as if she hadn’t just shattered a woman’s soul onto my office floor.

Clarissa had always been far too concerned about the Balance. We had enough souls for a lifetime. Had for decades, at least. But she was insistent we had to abide by the old rules. One body in, one soul out.