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“Really? Not even Cooper?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and sighs. “I thought for sure Coop would have tipped the scales in your favor.”
“He’s more or less clean. I mean, he forgets his mother’s birthday every year, and he got kicked out of a strip club once for getting too handsy. But that’s it. The guy is boring. He naps most of the weekend or drinks until he’s too shit faced to do anything else. He watches a lot of vanilla porn.”
Byron barks out a laugh, startling me, and I flinch.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just… Coop is always bragging about all the women he’s sleeping with. I kind of figured something was up with him, but I didn’t realize he was just a sad porn addict.”
I shrug. “It’s always the noisiest ones who have the most to hide.”
Byron lets go of a deep exhale as he rakes his fingers through his hair. Suddenly, I’m envious of those fingers and wish I could be the one to touch him. To make him feel good. To bring him comfort. Which is a dangerous line of thinking, considering who and what I am and where I am going after tomorrow.
“I’m so sorry, Faith. I thought for sure we’d find you something to chew on in here, and I’ve let you down,” he says. His remorse is evident in those deep blue eyes of his. It’s like someone flicked a light switch on behind them.
I hate that he feels that way. That somehow my poor decision-making skills these past several thousand years is his fault. No, he didn’t fuck up my career. I did that all on my own, and it’s time to face the consequences, I guess, even if they’re totally bullshit. But I can’t go back down to Hell leaving him feeling the slightest bit responsible for my misery, so I smile sadly and shrug. “Don’t say that. You didn’t. You did your best, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. I’m just… not very good at this, I’m afraid.”
“Where do other demons hunt, usually?” he asks.
“Corporations such as this one, I think? Maybe political rallies. Tech bro headquarters. Lockheed Martin, especially,” I say.
He laughs again, shaking his head. “Fletcher & Sons can’t hang with the big bads, I guess. Again, I’m really sorry. But, hey. Maybe this is a good opportunity for you to reinvent yourself. If you lose your job, you can get another one.”
Oh, it’s adorable how he thinks it’s that easy. Sadly, my future is looking downright bleak right now. Byron has been the highlight of my abysmally long existence, and I’ll always be grateful I spent these last moments on Earth with him. But I shudder to think of what awaits me back in Hell once my boss learns I failed. Again.
“Unfortunately, I’m not going to be getting a new job,” I say.
Byron lifts his brow. “What do you mean? You said you’d get demoted, right? So quit. Go to another company where they’ll appreciate you.”
I lean against the wall and bury my face in my hands. “It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is. Why wouldn’t—”
Dropping my hands, I bare my fangs at Byron and let loose a frustrated snarl. “No! You don’t. Understand. Byron. I’m not simply being fired because I’m a fuckup. I’m being punished. I’m being sent to the worst place for failed demons such as myself. I’m being cast into the Pit.”
Byron’s throat bobs as he stares at me, his hands trembling before clenching into fists at his side. “What… does that mean, exactly?”
I steady my breathing and say, “It means a fate worse than death for someone like me.”
13
BYRON
Ever since my mother left me in the pouring rain to hop on a bus and never come back, I’ve known that life is unfair. For some people, life will always be a struggle, no matter what they do. For others, sometimes a little hard work can get them out of the hole they’re in. And then there are the privileged folks who were born with silver spoons in their mouths, like most of the people I work with here at Fletcher & Sons.
I was tossed into the foster care system and spit back out once I turned eighteen with the biggest chip on my shoulder and a bag with only a few of my belongings. But instead of wanting to ensure no one else ever felt the way I did, like a discarded piece of trash, I decided to go in the opposite direction and treat everyone like crap.
That ends today.
Faith was born a demon. She didn’t ask to live in Hell, punishing damned souls for the rest of her life. This woman has thoughts and ambitions of her own, even if she can’t always admit them to herself. I barely know her, but in the short time we’ve spent together, I’ve been floored by how utterly full of life she is. Admiration. I think that’s the word I’m looking for. Iadmirethis woman. This go-getter who put a fucking candyshop across the street in hopes of catching a CEO on his way to lunch. Yeah. So, she also might be a little delusional, but she aimed high, and that should be commended.
My hands ball into fists at my side as I work my jaw. “That’s not going to happen,” I growl.
Faith looks up at me with such intense longing that it takes every bit of self-control not to sweep her up into my arms and kiss her.
“Byron… please. Let’s not make this more difficult than it already is,” she says. “I’ll just have to deal with it. I’m terrible at my job. This is how it is. I’ve always known, I think, deep down, that one day this would happen.”
She might have always known what was at stake, but I only just learned all of this thirty seconds ago.
“Being bad at your job shouldn’t mean losing your life,” I say, my voice trembling.
