Chapter 2
II.
I clear my throat and swallow the lump building within it.
“You okay, Princess?” The deep voice makes me start, and I shove Nathan Reynolds’s photo into the pocket of my black dress, both so that my shaking hand is hidden from view and so that I no longer have to look at those treacherous ocean eyes pleading with me.
Ferus smirks at me from his desk two down from mine, and my stomach lurches. Unlike most of the other demons running the check-in line, he chooses not to camouflage himself as human. He enjoys the fear his true form ignites in the sinners.
His sharp teeth are so white that I expect they’d glow if we blew out all the torches.
Their brightness is matched only by neon-orange hair that appears as though it could spark any second.
His skin is crimson as blood, and he’s muscular to the point that his veins press out of his flesh in jagged lines.
It’s not his looks that unsettle me, though. It’s what lies beneath.
Ferus only works here to earn Father’s favor—one more stepping stone in his career—but he thrives on this job.
There’s a darkness to him that makes my insides cartwheel.
Like all of the elder demons down here, Ferus lived in Paradise before joining Father in the war that led to the Fall.
Everyone from my father’s side of the battle was exiled here for eternity as retribution.
Except that Ferus doesn’t see this place as his punishment.
It’s his playground.
“I’m fine,” I say as I close Nathan Reynolds’s file and shove it onto the pile with the others. “Just another shadeling insisting he’s innocent.”
Ferus lets out a guttural laugh that echoes off the granite walls, and some of the humans in line cry out in fear. “Like these skin sacks can do anything but sin. I don’t even know why Paradise exists anymore.”
Ignoring him, I place a Closed For Eternity sign on my desk, grateful for the end of my shift.
My best friend, Attero, finishes checking in a sobbing sinner, then looks up from his desk beside mine. “We should go for drinks tonight,” he says.
I almost knock my neatly stacked folders to the floor, unable to hide my surprise at the invite.
Attero and I have been friends ever since I can remember. Unlike Ferus, who’s as ancient as Father, Atty’s my age. His parents were Father’s assistants, and he often accompanied them to work.
But he’s barely acknowledged my existence since Father announced his impending retirement and desire for me to take over when I turn eighteen.
He didn’t even show up at my birthday party last week.
It was me, Father, and some super-uncomfortable demons who were paid to be there and ran the moment I blew out the candles.
Father wasn’t far behind.
If I accept his invite, I can ask Attero what’s going on. Why he’s been avoiding me.
“Sure.” I fiddle with the folders so he can’t see the smile tugging at my lips. “That’d be fun.”
Attero’s green eyes widen. “Oh. Sorry, Dev. I was talking to Ferus.”
Pressure builds from my chest to my cheeks, and I focus too hard on the names on my files so he won’t see the hurt on my face. It’s bad enough losing my best friend; losing him to Ferus is an extra blow.
I speak over the lump that’s back in my throat. “Oh.”
“Sorry, Princess,” Ferus says, but there’s nothing apologetic in his smirk. “This is a worker-demons-only thing. You’d hate it. Besides, if anything ever happened to you while we were out, your father would have us banished in a human heartbeat.”
I don’t trust myself to look at any of them, so I stare at the ruby ring on my right index finger—a birthday gift from Father. “He wouldn’t.”
“He would,” Ferus says. “You saw what happened to Quasso when he accidentally set your hair on fire. And he just walked past you. It’s hardly his fault his body is made of flame. Now he’s up on Earth as a fireplace.”
“I know Father can be harsh—” Ferus and Attero sputter, and I shrug. “Okay, he’s extremely harsh, but Quasso only has to live as a fireplace for the next hundred years or so and then he can come home.”
I don’t know why I’m defending Father. It’s not like he ever listens to reason.
I’d begged him not to banish Quasso, but there’s a difference between me disagreeing with Father in private and Ferus using him to tear my friends from me.
Ferus clicks his teeth. “Yeah, sorry, Princess. That’s not a chance any of us are willing to take. Besides”—his eyes scan the length of my body—“maybe you should skip the bloodwine if you want to look the part of a princess.”
Heat builds in my face. It’s not Ferus’s words that shame me. He’s a wretched being who enjoys upsetting me, especially since he learned that I’ll be taking over for Father instead of him. It’s that every other demon and sinner in the Welcome Hall has heard the insult.
And whether they agree with him or not, he’s called attention to something he sees as a flaw, amplifying it for the room to analyze at their leisure.
I stand on shaking legs and place my hands on my hips.
“I’ve told you to stop calling me Princess.
And I’m surprised you have an opinion on how a princess should look anyway, considering you can’t see beyond your own reflection.
Maybe you should focus on your own flaws—of which there are many—instead of my genetics. ”
He opens his mouth and closes it again, speechless for the first time since I’ve known him.
Satisfaction blooms through my chest as I mirror his earlier smirk back at him. “What’s wrong, Ferus? Demon got your tongue?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he waves over the next shadeling for check-in. She visibly shakes as she approaches, and the sneer returns to his lips.
I turn and study Attero, who’s hiding behind his human form: dark-brown skin and shoulder-length blue hair. “And you feel the same way, Atty, about me coming out with you?”
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, Dev. It’s uncomfortable now. You’re going to be our boss.”
His words confirm my worst fears. Atty was the one kid who wasn’t afraid to spend time with me when we were little, but now he sees me the same way everyone else in our class did: as someone to be feared, to be kept at a safe distance.
My jaw tightens, and I sink back into my chair as my legs threaten to give out.
I study the granite walls. They extend so high that it’s impossible to see the top.
Once in a while, a distraught sinner will attempt to climb them, only to realize that there’s no end and they’re trapped here.
They’ll slide down or jump off, hoping to find another way to end things, but they wind up back in the check-in line like nothing happened.
Above me, the sky is pitch-black. It’s a gaping void I want to scream into. I’m as trapped as the shadelings, and even Atty knows it.
I take a deep breath and return my gaze to Attero. “Even if I take over for Father—which you know I don’t want—that shouldn’t change things between us. We’re best friends, Atty. We’ve been together since we were children.”
“And that’s the problem.” He clears his throat. “We’re not kids anymore, Devica. It’s time we start acting like it.”
The coldness in his tone sends shivers down my spine, and I look down so he won’t see my lower lip quiver. “If that’s how you feel…”
He keeps his eyes trained on his desk. “It is.”
Grabbing my pile of folders, I jam them into the filing cabinet behind me with shaking hands. I slam the drawer closed. Attero mumbles my name, but I spin away from him.
The doors out of the Welcome Hall are too heavy for humans, but I fling them open with ease. They bang shut behind me, the sound ringing along the stone walls as I run to my chambers.
I stand in the middle of my bedroom, taking deep breaths in an effort to control the hurt consuming my body. Hurling myself onto my bed, I scream into my pillow.
“I hate it here,” I say into the fabric. “And I hate him for keeping me here.”
I roll onto my back to stare up at the indigo sky full of stars Atty and I painted on my ceiling together. I’ve spent hours staring at them, imagining I was anywhere else but in this room.
Something pricks my thigh, and I frown. I reach into the pocket of my dress. Nathan Reynolds smiles at me from the photograph I’d shoved in there. His grin is almost as comforting as the stars above me. It’s warm and inviting, lighting his entire face.
He was so sure of his innocence. And I almost believed him. That’s never happened before. I don’t know what it is about this shadeling, why he’s had a hold on me since appearing at my desk.
Sighing, I stash his photo under my pillow.
It doesn’t matter. He’s in his lot now, and I’ll never see him again.
I stare back up at the painted sky and shove Nathan Reynolds out of my mind with the force I’d used on the filing cabinet drawer.
It’s not long before I fall into a fitful sleep, dreaming that the stars above me are real and that I’m no longer imprisoned in stone.