Chapter 7
MATCH MADE IN HECK
Rosalind
Rosalind pinched her hand between her knees, squeezing the quill with the other as she tried to focus on the letter strokes.
Actually, I have a—
No, scratch that. It wasn’t firm enough.
Gods, she’d practiced that first line a million times in the last three days. Probably more. Had the entire middle memorized with concise points and data to back it up. A whole list of talking points. But the moment it came time to follow through…
“Unfortunately, we are not able to match the budget increase from the year prior,” the Horn of Finance, Tarzul, was saying, papers laid out across the desk between himself and Argeth.
His assistant, a smaller green demon named Elliran, sat off to the side, diligently taking notes just as Rosalind was doing.
Only probably with nicer handwriting and the ability to take a full breath.
“You do, of course, have the upcoming fundraiser. As the organizing department, a portion of those proceeds and any direct donations you receive will go to Culture and the project you see fit.” Tarzul waved a clawed hand in her direction.
“But I know the allocation of funds to the humans was unplanned, and many of us took the hit to make sure they were not left helpless.”
Rosalind might have only been in the demon realm for eight days, but she had years of practice pretending she was as calm and collected as her features might suggest.
“If you don’t mind,” she began softly, then cleared her throat. Sound firm. “I have a solution for that particular allocation.”
There. Use his words, but only the positive ones.
Tarzul looked to Argeth, but the Horn of Culture only cocked his head. Which wasn’t surprising, because every time Rose had tried to broach the subject with him, she’d been dismissed or ignored.
Would there be another time when she’d have even five seconds of these demons’ attention?
“I’ve been familiarizing myself with the financials and infrastructure of Heck, and there are quite a few line items and budgets that don’t quite match.
” Whether it was feigned interest from the Horns or not, nerves mostly kept her mouth moving.
“There’s a fully salaried demon in sewage who passed away several years ago.
Nine business licenses have expired and are past due for collection.
Water and sewage have been running to multiple buildings that are no longer in use or are up for sale—”
“Suppose you’re correct,” Tarzul said with a dismissive grunt. “You want these funds allocated to the humans?”
“No,” she answered with a frown, gesturing to Argeth.
The movement was more to hide the trembling in her fingers and distract from her heart climbing her throat.
“The contracts I devised with the councilor were designed for an initial, introductory amount, followed by a working salary that would be equal to a demon of similar experience. Integration into Heck’s everyday was a priority, but it was by no means a detriment to funding. ”
She didn’t even want to get into the contract addendums she was still waiting for Argeth to approve—pending a stack of paperwork, signatures, and council approval he claimed was a necessary process. Not to mention, she’d gladly reallocate her stipend to any of the other women should they need it.
“I’m simply looking for ways to save money, and while these are the more obvious, I have a list of some very actionable changes we can—”
“Perhaps your intentions are honorable, but,” the Horn of Finance said with an impatient sigh, “the humans have been a disruption we are all recovering from. It is not your place to come in and implement all your human ideologies when we have been running on our own since our arrival on this plane.”
Bull-fucking-shit.
Tarzul’s smirk was cruel. “If you want a little coin to play around with, might I suggest asking your sponsor for responsibilities?”
Shame and embarrassment curdled in Rose’s gut, and she willed her eyes not to succumb to the burning. Especially as Elliran flashed her a sympathetic smile.
Rosalind was on a cliff, toes hanging over the edge. Lost to the swooping feeling where she knew she was tipping into the abyss and there was no anchor to hold her in place. Nothing but endless depths below.
Somehow she was out of the councilor’s office. Argeth was saying something about shrubberies, no comment on what had just transpired. Probably hadn’t even been paying attention.
At the first sight of a door, Rosalind took it, seeing nothing as she stopped following the councilor and crashed into the darkness. Another storage closet. Good. At this rate, she’d probably hide in all of them at least once this week.
Her fingers curled into the wood shelving as she tried to suck in a breath. One, two…
Start over.
Air wasn’t coming fast enough. Deep enough. Her heart wasn’t meant to work this hard or live in her throat and feet at the same time.
Her head spun, teeth aching from how hard she clenched her jaw.
List something, anything.
Achreos.
Barrens.
Claws—
“Is it alphabetized?”
A gasp left her throat, cool air filling her lungs.
Davarox.
The next breath came easier, just as the memories did. Massive gray fingers holding her chin in a way that was gentle but also firm.
“Kiss him.”
Lazerath.
Rosalind’s fingers loosened on the shelving, blood flowing back to her fingertips.
Warm hands on her shoulders. Lips against her neck. A hand between her breasts, feeling the rise and fall of her lungs.
It was so inappropriate for her to be thinking of them right now. Thinking of that night when it was only meant to be a one-time thing.
Yet it was their faces, their words, their kindness giving her air. Reminding her that she was capable of shutting off her brain and calming her heart. There had been a quiet for the first time in her life, and so what if she had to imagine that evening just to get an ounce of it right now?
No one would ever know.
Her shoulders slumped, the burn easing from her lungs as she caught her breath. Guilt could come later. Guilt that had been festering in the three days since she’d fallen asleep between two beautiful and sexy and kind demons and then snuck out in the middle of the night.
But Rose had too much to do: the humans, her work, the hours of catching up on policies to make sure there were no surprises. She had no time or space for anything more, even if that thought was starting to sit funny since meeting Laz and Dav.
She blinked back to the present, shaking her head. It had been foolish of her to open her mouth with the councilors. To try. Maybe she should have asked Mozke to do it for her, but then that was just making more work for someone else. It meant she was failing.
Fuck that.
She was not a weak human who hid in a storage closet every time something overworked her stupid heart.
She could endure the looks, the jeers, the insults.
She had to be strong, because if she wasn’t, who would protect the other women?
They had enough to worry about, adjusting to Heck and their new lives.
Rosalind couldn’t burden them when all she had to worry about were her own little breathing issues.
Those she could just shove away again, now that she could suck in enough air.
She rolled her shoulders then opened the door.
“Gotcha.”
She shut it.
“Rosalind,” Mozke whined from the other side, tapping a clawed finger against the wood. “It’s too late. I know where you are.”
“How long have you been standing out there?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Rosalind blushed but opened the door a crack.
Mozke’s pursed lips and folded arms were both endearing and devastating. “We really need to talk about your resting heart rate. That’s not normal.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“How are you more wound up after getting fucked into oblivion?”
Rosalind didn’t muffle them in time, only managing to wave her arms frantically in the air as she hiss-whispered, “Are you seriously still mad at me? You were the one encouraging me to go out for a night!”
“But that was before your beauty blinded the two delicious hunks who took you home. I’ve never seen Dav hold hands with—”
Rose threw her hands over her ears. “No, nope. I don’t want any more.”
Mozke smirked. “Is it because you know you’ll have no self-restraint if you find out more about them?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you when I’m still standing in a storage closet.”
“Come here and give me a hug,” they teased, opening their arms wide.
“Nice try. I know exactly what you’ll do when I step out.”
“Remind you that having multiple partners who deliver mind-blowing orgasms and an almost-instantaneous intellectual and emotional connection is the basis for a very healthy relationship?”
Rosalind shook her head so fast that she had to fix one of the pins holding her hair behind her ears. “Th-that’s… I d-don’t…”
Mozke rolled their eyes as she stuttered out nonsense, then raised a finger with each item. “No time, too busy, preoccupied, not enough hours, too much work—”
“Now you’re just repeating yourself.”
“I’m not as good at lists as you and Davarox.”
“Mozke! I told you that in confidence.”
“Fine, but if I can get as much done as I do and still have a personal life, so can you.”
Rosalind arched a brow, leaning a shoulder against the jamb. “You get work done?”
“How dare you? Just for that, I’m sending you to get me a bronzeberry scone. But not the garbage you’ve been getting lately.” They gently tugged her out of the storage closet. “Go a little farther to Lovable Loaf. They don’t skimp. And you want to try their spiced biscuit.”
“Now I’m your errand human too?”
“I’ll make the noodles you like for dinner.”
“Done.”