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The beetles weren’taroundme; they were… me.
Iwas the swarm.Iwas a hundred flitting insects.
Sweet merciful Jesus!
But I’d turned my back on all things merciful and holy. Of that, I was certain.
The beetles melded together and became a body. My new body. Huge, black feather wings sprouted from my back, and an otherworldly power, that I could just begin to taste, flooded me. I was sickened and exhilarated at the same time.
What have I done?
In a blink, I was no longer in the burning building, I was… somewhere else, whole and untouched, watching the last of my human body disintegrate. My exquisite face charred and blackened to the bone. Ashtaroth stood beside me, smiling, and there was no pain. Not here, on the Other Side of the Veil. No fiery agony and no more aching hunger for the love I’d never known.
I fell to my knees at the demon’s feet, filled with unwavering devotion. Ashtaroth had saved me from the agony of living and filled me instead with beautiful vengeance.
I felt his hand on my head, petting me. Soothing me.
“My sweet, sweet Ambri,” he murmured as my body burned to ash. “Welcome to hell.”
one
London, present day
“And then the bloke says he wants to buy my entireNights in Cornwallseries, and I had to tell him it was sold out. So he says, ‘Fuck me, sketch a bloody flower on a cocktail napkin so my wife doesn’t kill me.’”
Vaughn Ritter, my former flatmate at the Royal Academy of Arts, shook his head with a chuckle. I smiled faintly into my pint in the crowded tavern—Mulligan’s—where I worked and was currently on a short break.
“Holy crap, Vaughn, it sounds like things are going great,” I said, my stomach twisting with jealousy. It felt like hunger. Or maybe itwashunger; I hadn’t been paid yet, and garnishes at the bar had been my lunchtime salad bar.
Vaughn waved a hand. “God, listen to me. I sound like an arrogant arsehole, going on with my silly shit. Tell me about you, Cole. How’s post-Academy life treating you?”
I glanced down. “Things could be better.”
“Nah, you’re just in a rough patch.”
Vaughn crossed his legs, ankle resting on knee, and stretched one arm over the booth’s worn upholstery. He looked loose, relaxed, and utterly confident in his wool blazer and jeans. His dark hair was gelled and smartly cut. Polished. By contrast, my shaggy light brown hair was falling in my eyes as I hunched over my drink in ratty jeans and jacket. Tension and stress tightened every muscle in my body so I could hardly move.
“Thisrough patchhas been going on since graduation,” I said, conscious that I was on the verge of whining. “I know that a degree from the Academy isn’t a golden ticket to instant fame and success, but I thought I’d at least be…”
Not drowning.
“Slightly better off,” I finished.
Vaughn flashed me a wide smile of white teeth. “Cheer up, mate! You look like you’re ready to jump off the Tower Bridge. Is it really as bad as all that?”
“It hasn’t been easy.” I took a long pull of my ale. “My grandmother passed last week. I just got back from her funeral in the States.”
“Bloody hell, when it rains it pours, doesn’t it?” Vaughn leaned over to grip my hand. “Sorry, mate. You were close, yeah?”
I nodded. “She was basically the last family I had. But with her dementia, I wasn’t able to…” I cleared my throat, grateful my black, square-rimmed glasses helped hide my tears. “I couldn’t take care of her. But I was with her at the end.”
“That’s rough. But you know what we do as artists. We channel it all.” Vaughn made a diving motion with his hands. “The pain, grief, triumphs and joys—pour it right into the work.”
I nodded again, wondering what pain or grief Vaughn Ritter was channeling into his paintings. A degree from the Academyhadbeen his ticket to instant fame and success. He’d been snatched up by a big-time agent—Jane Oxley—before he could frame his diploma and had had two shows in the last year alone. I was truly happy for him, but I ached for a shred of what he had. If not the success, then just the reprieve from worry and self-doubt.
A big sale wouldn’t hurt either.
“There’s something more?” Vaughn said, reading my face. “You can tell me.”
