Page 55 of Just One Little Bargain

“Do I want to know what that is?”

“Torture facility for damned souls. Failed demons get reassigned there as punishment. But some volunteer to be sent there because they enjoy it.”

Evie shudders. “That’s horrible.”

“It’s Hell.”

“How many souls have you taken?”

“None.”

“None?” Her voice rises in disbelief.

“I’ve been present at negotiations and observed the whole process. But closing one myself?” I stare at the road because this is easier to admit when I’m not looking at her. “Zero.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Cross my heart and hope to—well, I’m already damned, so that phrase doesn’t really work.” I risk a glance. “Every time I get close to securing a contract, everything goes wrong. I warn the mortal about consequences, or I can’t exploit their vulnerability or go through with it.”

“That doesn’t make you a failure.”

“In Hell it does. That’s literally the job description: corrupt mortals, secure souls, report results. I can’t do any of it without feeling like I’m . . .” I search for the word. “Destroying something that deserves to exist.”

“Can’t you do anything else?”

“It’s a family thing.” I keep my attention on the road. “My father is one of Hell’s most successful soul collectors. You don’t walk away from centuries of tradition because you’re not built for it.”

“But if you hate it . . .”

“Doesn’t matter.” The sharpness in my voice catches us both off guard. “It’s what I’m supposed to do. Failing at it means failing at the only thing I’m meant to be.”

“So you’re basically a virgin.”

The car swerves, the sudden movement jolting me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“Soul collection virgin.” She’s looking at me dead-on, eyes dancing with mischief.

“I—yes. That’s technically—”

“Making me your first.”

“Could you maybe not phrase it like that?”

“So all this pressure you’re under is because you’ve never managed to seal the deal.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds even more pathetic than it already is.” But I’m grinning now. “Virgin demon trying to convince his first potential contract to trust him. Really selling it, aren’t I?”

“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Welcome to my existence.”

“What happens to a soul after it’s collected?” she asks quietly.

I tense. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”