Chapter 18
STELLA
‘Oh. It’s you.’ I lowered my hands, digging my nails into my palms. Damien being in my room, after what he’d just said in the garden, did nothing for my increasing nerves.
Damien twisted one of his rings. ‘Were you expecting someone else?’
‘Agatha,’ I said. ‘She helped me get ready.’
He nodded. ‘You look beautiful.’
I looked down at the yellow dress, draping softly over my legs, and back up at Damien. He cut an incredible figure in a black suit. ‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because I mean it?’ Damien frowned. ‘I don’t go around lying for the good of my health, Stella.’
I shook my head, frustration rising within me. ‘I mean, if this is all you can give me, why do you keep saying things like that? Why do you keep telling me I’m your temptation? That I’m beautiful? Why not let it be?’
Damien crossed the room, crouching before me.
He rested his large hands on my thighs, and as much as I wanted to push him away, I couldn’t.
‘Because they’re true. And I know I should stop.
I know I shouldn’t say them. I know I shouldn’t find ways to touch you, like I’m doing now.
I know, okay?’ His voice was harsh, raspy with some unspoken emotion.
My skin burned beneath his touch, and my breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t seen him show this amount of passion since the night in the hall. ‘So why do you do it then?’
‘Because I can’t help myself.’ The words were strangled, tortured, and his hands wrapped around my thighs, squeezing. ‘I seem to have very little control around you, Stella.’
My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I dug my nails into my palm harder. I could lie. Say it didn’t matter. I could. But he would know. ‘I don’t mind.’
‘But you should.’ He sank to his knees, eyes never leaving mine. His hands slid down the silk, caressing me without ever touching my skin. ‘This is my favorite color.’
I squirmed under his touch, wanting to press closer, but not knowing where the line was. ‘Agatha mentioned.’
He barked out a laugh. ‘Of course she did. My own puppeteer.’
I didn’t pretend to understand what he meant. All I focused on was right now, Damien was touching me.
‘At any given moment, I’m stopping myself from going too far. But I always think, maybe a taste would sate me. Or maybe it would drive me insane.’ He stared up at me, open and vulnerable, as if I held the answers he needed.
‘Maybe… maybe it would help us both,’ I whispered.
Before I could stop myself, I leaned closer, and with every inch I covered, I expected him to pull away, to grow cold. He didn’t pull back. Didn’t grow cold.
Until sharp clapping separated us. We froze, both of us whipping our heads around at the sudden intrusion.
‘How… romantic,’ Clarissa drawled. She stood in the doorway, looking as elegant as ever in a pitch-black dress, her blonde hair twisted into a tight bun on top of her head. The only contradiction was her pinched face, like she’d just sucked on a lemon.
‘Clarissa,’ Damien greeted her, getting to his feet. ‘I thought Agatha was escorting you to the dining room.’
‘Yes, well, I wanted to say hello first, and good thing I did. Otherwise I would’ve never gotten to see this side of you, Damien.
Titillating, truly.’ Clarissa looked like she’d actually prefer to bleach her eyeballs at this point, but I wasn’t about to offer up that information.
She turned her scowl in my direction. ‘Stella. How wonderful to see you again. Soul intact, no less.’
Well. I guess that answered that question.
‘Hello,’ I said, aiming for the perfect blend of demure and respectful, while making sure there was just enough venom injected into the words that she would understand I wasn’t a pushover.
Tired, yes. Exhausted, even. But I spent years protecting myself and Grace. I was not a wilting wallflower.
Her smile tightened, and despite her beauty, it was artificial to the point of grotesque. She was going to say something cruel, acknowledge the acidity in my words, and send me straight to Hell. I could see it in her cold eyes.
Before she could, Damien interrupted smoothly. ‘Yes, well, now you’ve said hello, let’s be off, shall we? Agatha would have my head if we let her dinner get cold.’
His tone left no room for debate, and he pressed his hand against the small of my back as he led us out of my bedroom. His touch was warm, pressing into the smooth silk, and I leaned into him, my blood still singing with the thought of his hands tracing every square inch of my body.
‘I thought you had a plan,’ I whispered, eyeing Clarissa walking ahead of us.
‘I do,’ he muttered.
‘Some plan if she already called me out on still having a soul.’ I tugged at the slit of my dress, suddenly feeling very much on display.
‘My plan is not reliant on her thinking your soul is missing. There is no fooling the Council. My plan involves making Clarissa see the fault of her requirement in the first place.’ His fingers dipped along the low back of my dress, teasing.
I blinked. ‘Will that work?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough.’
I huffed. Damien was entirely too unbothered by this whole situation, as if it wasn’t my soul and his entire identity on the line. Shouldn’t he at least show the slightest bit of concern to keep up with my racing nerves?
Clarissa met up with her two lackeys at the dining-room door, and they disappeared inside. I tried to remember their names. The one that looked like a rock person was Lars, I thought. He was currently spreading dust everywhere with every step he took. The taller one, Silas.
Damien pulled my chin up to look at him. ‘It’s going to be fine. Above all else, I promise you that. I will not let them hurt you.’
I tried to breathe. Agatha told me he cared about me. I had to believe that. Finally, I nodded, pulled my hand out of his and entered the dining room first.
Despite having had dinner in here for weeks, I was overwhelmed by the table now formally set for six instead of three.
Black ornate candelabras dotted the space, the flickering flames emphasizing the shining silver platters, where Agatha’s dinner proudly sat.
I went to round the table and take my seat next to Damien, but Lars stopped me, pulling out the chair next to him, ash lingering from his touch. Agatha was not going to be happy.
‘Here, Stella, sit next to me.’
I glanced up at Damien, who offered me the smallest nod.
So I sat, shifting my weight as far to the opposite side of the chair from Lars as I could get.
Damien sat across from me, although his blank face offered me nothing.
Lars stared at me as he passed me the platter of salmon, roasted with lemon and herbs.
For a moment, it was peaceful. Nothing but the sounds of eating and silverware clanking. Temporary, though. It had to be.
Agatha had gone all out for dinner. The salmon. Zucchini baked with parmesan. An orzo seasoned with something I’d never tasted before. The demons sharing our table picked at their food, barely tasting anything.
Sure enough, Clarissa set her cutlery down delicately on the side of her plate and cleared her throat. ‘Delicious as always, Agatha. As much as I warned Damien not to develop such strong unnatural attachments to your kind, I have to admit it’s worth it for food like that.’
Agatha’s face could’ve been carved from stone. ‘Thank you,’ she said, sounding anything but.
Clarissa turned her eyes in my direction, and I forced myself to swallow the spoonful of raspberry mousse I’d just lifted to my mouth. I wouldn’t let her see me sweat. Couldn’t. Now that I saw through her false skin, I saw the weak points of her appearance.
‘Stella,’ she began sweetly, like sugar. ‘It’s good to see you settled into the Fringe so well. I was worried.’
‘I wasn’t.’ Wherever she was going with this, it was nowhere good.
‘Clarissa, whatever you’re doing—’ Damien started.
‘Hush, Damien. Us girls are talking.’ A quick switch of her appearance and scales trailed over her skin. A moment later, they were gone.
I met Damien’s gaze, trying to figure out what I should do. I took his silence as reluctant acceptance.
‘Damien treats you well, from what I’ve seen. Surely, you’d want to offer him the same respect.’
‘Of course.’
Her eyes turned laser sharp, pinning me in place. ‘So why is it when I asked for something as simple as your soul in stasis, you haven’t done it?’
My eyes widened, heart thundering. Was this it? I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.
Damien threw his silverware down. ‘Clarissa. You may be my equal, but I’ll remind you that this is still my house.’
‘That the Council of Hell graciously offered you in exchange for your services.’
Clarissa was calm. Way too calm. In contrast, I could see the fury blazing behind Damien’s gaze, despite his also calm voice.
Maybe if I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t have even noticed it.
My breath was coming harder, my vision fading around the edges.
But I wouldn’t let myself crack, not in front of her.
‘We both know the requirement of the souls in stasis is an outdated rule, one that was necessary long ago when the population was smaller and there weren’t enough souls coming in to maintain the Balance Hell required,’ Damien explained.
‘The rules have required updating for a millennium at least, which I’m more than happy to explain to the Council. ’
This was his plan? To outwit her with outdated laws?
Clarissa laughed. ‘If you think I want her soul because Hell requires it, you’re sorely mistaken. I want her soul because it will kill you.’ She got to her feet, Lars and Silas also rising, and tossed down her napkin.
My body screamed at me to run, but I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.
Damien also stood. ‘You will not have her soul. I collected her. Therefore her soul is mine to do with as I wish. Keep it intact, crush it into a million pieces, send her back to Earth, it is mine to do with as I please,’ he snarled.
My veins suddenly felt icy cold, hearing them both talk about me like I was property, even Damien. Was that all I was to him?
Clarissa was glaring at me now, saying something I needed to tune into, even as much as I wanted to fade away.
She looked more demonic than I’d ever seen, scales covering every inch of her skin now.
‘…because your boyfriend thinks he’s found a loophole for not giving me your soul, he’s very mistaken.
I’ll be back to check on you soon. I know you wouldn’t want Damien to suffer, would you? ’
Guilt twisted in my stomach, tight and tangled. Clarissa was a snake hidden behind a beautiful face, used to getting what she wanted. And right now, she wanted Damien to suffer.
I was merely a means to an end to her. What she had against him, I had no idea, but it didn’t change the outcome.
The shock came from thinking Damien might feel the same way.
My heart picked up speed again, blasting through my bloodstream.
Clarissa was still speaking, saying words to Damien that made little sense by the time they reached my ears, and I didn’t care any longer.
Damien must have known something was off with me, because his eyes didn’t leave mine, even as his mouth twisted, spewing responses to Clarissa.
If I gripped the table any tighter, I would snap it. I meant something to him. I had to.
Clarissa turned on her heel with one last taunt, her lackeys following close behind. The room closed in, the walls creeping nearer. The air was zapped, completely gone. Maybe Clarissa had taken it when she left.
Agatha sighed. ‘I’ll start the dishes, I suppose. Clarissa and her goons always demand everything and then barely touch more than a bite.’ She left, leaving Damien, myself, and my destroyed heart in the room.
‘Stella—’
I stumbled to my feet, clutching at the table like it was the only thing keeping me afloat. ‘I’m sorry. I have to go. I have to…’
I staggered out of the room, desperate for fresh air, or at least for air that Clarissa hadn’t tainted. I pressed my back against the wall, hands pressed against my eyes. It was fine. It was all fine. I wanted this.
‘Stella, look at me.’ Damien was there, pulling my hands away. ‘Breathe for me, Bambi. Deep breaths, in and out.’
I did as he asked, taking deep breaths, trying to steady the overwhelming thoughts.
‘I meant what I said. I’m not going to let her take your soul. I promised you that.’
My eyes flew open. ‘That’s what you think I’m upset about?’ My anxiety was gone, leaving me with a simmering anger.
Damien blinked, confused.
‘You lied to me. You told me you brought me here to give me a chance. You touch me and tell me I’m beautiful and it’s all a lie. You brought me here as some kind of pawn in a fucked-up power struggle you have with Clarissa.’ My anger cracked behind every word.
Damien shook his head. ‘No. No. None of that is true. I brought you here to save you.’
I wrenched my wrists out of his grip. ‘You know, I believed you in my bedroom.’
‘Good. Because it’s the truth!’ Damien’s voice echoed through the hallway. ‘Every fucking word of it.’
For a moment, I hesitated. He sounded genuine. His eyes flashed, desperately wanting me to believe him. For a brief moment, I thought of him on his knees in front of me. ‘I don’t know what to believe any more.’
I wanted to turn away before the tears fell, but he caught my wrist before I could run.
‘I meant every word in your bedroom, Stella. And I’m sorry none of this is easy. But I’m not sorry you’re here.’
I didn’t know what to believe. The Devil at the dining-room table, cunning and cold, or the man in front of me, open and vulnerable. I didn’t know which side was real.
For the second time, I pulled away. ‘I think I just need some time alone right now.’
And before Damien could stop me, I turned and headed back to my bedroom, where I could finally, finally, break into pieces.