Chapter 26 #2
The angel’s gaze swept over me, slow and unblinking. “I know the devil has his temptations. He preys on weakness, but I thought you were a stronger man. Not so susceptible to such… wicked whims.”
My jaw clenched as memories bombarded me. Darby bouncing in his seat like a kid over a toaster oven, Zephyr swinging in Beck’s office with a lollipop in his mouth, and icy Elliot reduced to a state of panic over being manhandled by a guest.
Darby and the dolls weren’t wicked. They were kinder and more human than demons had any right to be, and I’d promised to protect them.
Antonella’s nails tapped against Molly’s photograph like a metronome of threat.
“I don’t intend to negotiate with the damned,” she mused.
“So if they’ve made you any offers, I won’t counter them.
But I will make myself clear.” Her eyes flicked up, her pupils shrunken to pinpoints in the light.
“You are mine, Mercer James, and though you have stumbled, I won’t let you fall. But you must earn your salvation.”
“Kind of you to offer grace I didn’t ask for,” I growled.
“But you need it. For yourself. For darling Molly.” She tilted her head and considered the photo again. “I wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to such a precious child.”
That was a threat, clear as glass. The angel knew too much—likely even more than she was letting on.
I flicked my eyes to Narcissus, who appeared gleeful over the whole exchange, and then to Stefano, who stood apart, his gaze distant.
The room felt darker suddenly, the half-light thicker.
Finally, I gritted out, “What do you want? The contract? I’ll look, but I can’t promise—”
“If you find it, yes,” Antonella cut in. “But there’s something else. A simple task, really. Perhaps one more suited to your strengths.”
The pause stretched, and I hated that she made me wait for it.
“I need you to get everyone out of the club building,” she said at last.
My brow furrowed. “Why?”
Her lashes flicked, almost a flinch at having her authority questioned. “I believe what you meant to ask was when.”
“No,” I said, my tone sharp. “I meant why. Someone is always there. Usually several someones. It’s their home—”
“Then convince them to take a vacation.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Surely even demons need a day off every once in a while.”
My mind jumped to Darby, who’d just taken a night off for the Bingo game—his first in five years. The dancers were surely all overdue for a break, but my gut told me that whatever Antonella was planning to do with an empty Dollhouse wouldn’t be good.
“Why?” I repeated at length.
She smiled, amused. “Why do they need a day off?”
“Why do you want them out of the club?” I pressed.
“Because if they were there, they would be in the way.”
My eyes narrowed. “Of what?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Antonella replied. “Your child, Mister James, is your responsibility. Not safeguarding a house of whores.”
The words struck me, and I felt the hook in them, sinking in and twisting.
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said, knowing she didn’t care. Knowing she didn’t realize how much I did.
“Then you should get them out of the building,” Antonella said.
Move them or they’d be moved. That was clear enough.
Maybe it would be a kindness to shoo them out myself. If I didn’t, Antonella might employ someone else who’d remove them by force or allow them to be run over. It would be worse than taking a day off. Much worse.
My eyes flicked to Molly’s picture, the glossy surface gleaming in a weak beam of light. My chest went tight. I had been caged in my own home.
How dare they corner me here.
How dare they ask me to do this.
I didn’t want to agree to it.
But I had to, didn’t I?
My throat worked around the words before they finally scraped out. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Antonella’s smile blossomed. “I knew you’d see reason, Mister James.”
Narcissus chuckled, but Stefano only shifted his weight while his eyes fixed on a point beyond us all.
Antonella strode forward, passing by closely enough to offer me the picture that felt as loaded as a grenade. “You never asked ‘when,’” she said then waited.
“When?” I gritted out when it became clear she wouldn’t leave until I spoke.
“There’s an event coming up, isn’t there?” she said. “I’ve heard rumors. A reopening party?”
She was playing at ignorance again, toying with me, and I wondered if she realized how important that night was. To Darby, most of all. He’d been so excited about his new role in the club and about reinventing the place now that he and the other demons were no longer under Maslow’s thumb.
For weeks, he’d been planning and advertising, so yes, Antonella had almost certainly heard rumors.
I didn’t respond, leaving her to declare. “The day before should be fine.”
She pressed Molly’s photo into my empty hand then sidestepped before tagging on, “We’ll be in touch.”
I didn’t doubt it.
The angelic trio moved toward the front door in a regal procession with Antonella leading the way. I stayed in place as they let themselves out and filed into the night. Even after they were gone, the room felt fouled, as if their presence had left a stain in the air.
My gaze fell to my hands, one holding Molly’s picture and the other clutching my pistol.
I had, in fact, been given a grenade. Not the photo, but Antonella’s command. She had handed me an explosive and asked me to place it in the heart of the Dollhouse.
How was I supposed to look Darby in the eye and encourage him to leave while anticipating what he might return to?
How could I betray him and make him feel as invaded as I did right now?
Someone would get hurt. No matter what I did. No matter what I said. All that remained was to try to mitigate the damage.