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Say what now? “So who is in hell?”
“Demons.” Yesterday glanced at Shade. “And the hell princes.”
Eddie tossed the handful while she thought that through. “But hell exists?”
He rolled his eyes. “Obvi.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why?” Eddie dragged the word out. She was kind of enjoying the power. “If hell is not there for sinners’ souls, then why does it exist?”
Yesterday sniffed and looked superior. “You don’t know anything, do you?”
“I know lots of things.” But none of them relating to heaven or hell apparently. “But carry on.”
Yesterday scowled at the bowl. “There’s none left.”
“More in the bag.” She stood and sauntered over to the stove. Maybe she had a little evil queen in her after all. She added more oil and kernels to her pot.
Yesterday scuttled up and stood beside her, his gaze locked on the pot. “It’s taking too long.”
Eddie nudged him. “Keep talking, short stuff. It’ll take your mind off the wait.”
“I don’t have all the information on heaven and earth.” He gave her a wary glance.
“Fair enough.” A popped kernel pinged against the pot lid. Several more pings followed “No more drooling.” She snatched up some paper towel and handed it to him. “It’s gross.”
Yesterday mopped himself up. “Hell guards the deadly sins.”
Eddie shook the pot so the bottom kernels didn’t burn. What Yesterday was telling her couldn’t be right. “No, the deadly sins come from hell.”
“Technically, yes, because the seals to the deadly sins are there, and the hell princes guard them and stop them from escaping.” Yesterday pressed his button nose against the oven. “But the seals are breaking now. Hell princes are warring. Very bad.”
Now she had more questions. “What do you mean the seals are breaking?”
She snatched the pot off the stove and tipped the contents into the bowl.
“Breaking.” Yesterday lunged for the bowl, grabbed it, and scuttled off with it. Popcorn flew as he two-fisted it into his mouth. Any escaping kernels were quickly swiped up with that prehensile tongue.
“What does—”
Dee’s distinctive Bat Out of Hell ringtone came from her phone, and Eddie forgot the popcorn, forgot the demon scarfing it, almost forgot the near-naked hell prince making Dee’s bed look like a place she wanted to be. She answered the call. “Dee?”
Forgot Yesterday and his answers that just led to more questions.
“Eddie?” Dee’s familiar sweet tones came down the line, and Eddie wanted to sit on the floor and weep. “Is that you, Eddie? It’s Deandra. Your grandmother. Dee.”
Yeah, cell phones and caller ID had pretty much bypassed Dee altogether.
“I’ve been calling you for days.” And had more conversations with Jean-Claude than she cared to. Not that he wasn’t a sweetheart, but…a lot escaped Jean-Claude. ’Nuff said.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie-girl,” Dee said. “I thought I’d lost my phone and Jean-Claude only told me he was keeping it in his suitcase about two minutes ago.” Jean-Claude murmured something in the background that sounded apologetic. Dee sighed. “I would have called the moment I got your text.”
When she was around eight, Eddie had overheard Rosabella telling Dee that Eddie’s nickname made people think she was a boy—the insurmountable horror! Dee had solved that by calling her Eddie-girl, and then taking her for the short haircut Eddie had craved. “Didn’t he tell you I’ve been calling?”
Dee made a soft noise of distress. She moved, and a door closed. “Jean-Claude is a dear, sweet man with some impressive skills. Unfortunately, remembering things is not one of them.”
