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ChapterThirteen
Elara
Iwake with a pounding headache, disoriented and confused. Where am I? This isn’t the dingy little apartment I share with Tessa. As I glance around the opulent penthouse suite, memories from last night slowly come back to me—the fight with Bax, storming out, drinking myself into oblivion at the bar. I must have blacked out at some point. But how did I get back here?
I blink blearily at the clock on the wall; the hands pointing to a time that has my heart hammering in my chest. Shit. I’m late. I’m so, so late. Scrambling out of bed, I hurry to the bathroom, my movements clumsy, my head pounding. This is bad. I must have drunk more than I thought last night. I can barely remember getting home, let alone going to bed.
I shower quickly, the hot water doing little to soothe my throbbing head. Dressing myself happens in record time as I pull on a pair of slacks and a blouse, not caring if they match. After brushing my teeth, I gulp down some painkillers for this throbbing hangover, silently cursing myself. This is why I don’t drink much.
I’m just shutting my door when my cell phone rings, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves. I almost ignore it, but one glance at the screen, and my heart skips a beat when I see my sister’s name. Is something wrong?
I answer, my voice a croak.
“Elara!” my sister’s voice is excited, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I can’t believe it! You’ve paid my entire tuition?! All three years of it?! And there was even enough left over for my trip to Spain! I can’t believe it!”
I choke on air, my eyes wide. I haven’t sent any money. At least not enough to cover even half of what she’s suggesting. I couldn’t have, not with the contract not yet complete. I try to speak, to tell her that there must be a mistake, but she barrels on, her words a flurry of excitement and joy.
“Elara, I can’t thank you enough! This…it means so much to me. You’re the best!”
I don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, not when she sounds so happy. So, I let her talk, her words washing over me as I try to make sense of it all.
I walk the rest of the way to the elevator in a daze, my mind a whirl as I try to process everything. How did the money get there?
I’ll have to sort that out later.
The elevator crashes to the ground floor and for once, I’m truly thankful for its death fall. I reach the lobby in record time and hurry out onto the street, hustling to the bus stop. The bus is crammed full of other late commuters, demons jostling and grumbling as I shove my way on. For a brief moment, I have a flash of memory, the demons backing away from me in fear last night. But I shake it off as some drunken hallucination.
My head is pounding too much to think about it right now. I need to get to work. I’m dreading facing Bax after storming out on him yesterday. Surely he’ll have my head for it, or worse. But I don’t have much choice.
The bus finally wheezes to a stop at my building after what feels like an everlasting ride spent crammed between countless foul-smelling demons. I push my way through the cramped aisle and stumble gratefully off the bus, the imposing black tower of Damnation Financial looming above me.
I steel myself as I enter the office, expecting to face Bax’s explosive wrath for my dramatic exit yesterday. But instead of anger, I’m met with a round of…applause.
I stop short, confusion washing over me. The demons I pass break into smiles and cheers, shouting things like “I haven’t had this much fun filing paperwork since the Great Plague of 1348!” and “Damnation feels more damnable than ever!”
Meanwhile, Asmodeus bustles over, a grin stretched wide across his face. “Elara! The new systems are working even better than expected. You’ve really turned this place around!”
I blink slowly, wondering if I’m still drunk or hallucinating. The office has been utterly transformed overnight. The drab cubicles are now sleek and modern with ergonomic chairs. Gleaming new tech and equipment adorn every desk. The musty stacks of paper are gone, replaced by an orderly digital filing system. White motivational posters with slogans like “Creativity Counts (So Get Creative with Punishments)” and “Seize the Day (by the Throat)” line the charcoal-grey walls.
The leaks in the ceiling have been patched and reinforced. The exposed wiring and flickering lights have been replaced with recessed lighting on dimmers, illuminating the space in a cool, professional glow.
A giant video wall dominates one wall, displaying real-time data analytics. Chic, efficient, and brimming with technological innovations. It’s everything I’ve been pushing for, magically implemented overnight. I can hardly believe it’s the same workplace that was ready to implode just yesterday.
“I…I don’t understand,” I stammer, still struggling to process this abrupt 180. “How did…”
Before I can demand answers, Zarien slinks up beside me. His clammy hand slithers around my waist.
“We should celebrate your success later, Elara,” he leers, tongue flicking out obscenely. “Maybe with a private party for two?”
I blink at him, stunned.
Suddenly Zarien goes completely still. The arm around my waist bends off my body at an awkward angle and the sound of bones breaking cracks the air. Every demon in the office is suddenly looking at us, as a look of horror transforms Zarien’s face. And then he’s gone. All that remains is his clothes that flutter silently to the floor.
The other demons in the office cheer and I turn my bewildered gaze to Asmodeus.
He shrugs. “Transferred to the lowest level of hell, where he belongs.”
“But who…” Even though the words slip from my lips, my head turns slowly as I speak, my point of focus Bax Daemonus’ office. My breath hitches in my throat.
