Chapter 24 #2
She heaved a sigh of relief, likely her only one for the day. Lucareoth paused as they came up to Bel’aliol’s door. He took a big breath. She grabbed his hand. He squeezed back. Then, of mutual accord, they separated. Lucareoth knocked hesitantly and the door swung open.
Gone was the elegant suit and expensive tie.
Bel’aliol wore burnished armor, like the dress plate Morgan had seen at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
It was heavily engraved with battle scenes, little demons stabbing and gnawing on and disemboweling other tiny demon figures.
It really deserved to be displayed in a case with explanatory label decks and maybe a “making of” video.
“Report.” Bel’aliol’s voice was silky with menace.
He’d replaced his fountain pen with a dagger, Morgan noticed.
He toyed with it, his movements unhurried.
She’d seen enough movies to expect him to slam it through someone’s hand at any moment.
“I can tell you don’t want to tell me. Start talking until that feeling stops. ”
“Brad has a plan, one that could potentially put us so far ahead of Valefar on an economic level that we could probably just pay them to go away,” Lucareoth said reluctantly, also watching the dagger with horrified fascination.
Bel’aliol slowly drew the entire scheme out of him—each question Lucareoth desperately didn’t want his boss to ask drew Bel’aliol to the relevant detail like a magnet.
“Interesting.” Bel’aliol finally sat back in his chair.
“For once, I agree with the bloodsuckers—I see no reason that shouldn’t work.
It will take too much time to ramp up and there’s too much bad blood with Valefar to call off the war, of course.
But it should give us a fantastic advantage after we emerge victorious.
Oh, and the double-charging for the Mart-of-Walls was a nice touch. ”
Lucareoth slumped, his eyes dull with stress.
Bel’aliol turned his attention to Morgan. She tried not to flinch. “And your progress?”
“I thought it would be best to deal with the rival before my quota? Because I’m… a… team player?” Morgan said helplessly.
He gave her the look she deserved. After a very long moment, during which a drop of icy sweat slowly dripped from the nape of her neck all the way down the length of her spine, he snorted.
“I don’t give a shit about your feelings, just whether they affect my results.
And may I remind you that if you were to perish in the coming conflict, you would end up right here?
You see, I’ve taken a personal interest in your case.
You seem to require motivation—would this serve? ”
He tapped what she had taken as a desk decoration, what looked like a cross between a crystal and a lightbulb. It was a soul cage, she suddenly realized. Nicely situated where he could gloat for the term of her contract.
He leaned forward. “Of course, if you’re finding yourself struggling to find a replacement, I would be happy to alter the bargain slightly.”
She swallowed against a mouth gone dry. “How so?”
“You clearly have reservations about this soul market scheme,” Bel’aliol leaned forward. “If you can ensure its success, I will allow the first full soul’s worth of slivers to count toward your obligation.”
The rush of relief left her breathless and ashamed. She shouldn’t want this, she knew, and yet—she could stop. She wouldn’t have to damn anyone she knew. She wouldn’t have to fully damn anyone at all. “You really want this to go through.”
“If it works, it has the potential to completely disrupt the soul industry,” Bel’aliol said, his dark eyes glittering beneath his horned brow. “And if demons love anything, it’s disruption.”
She didn’t actually believe that was true.
She didn’t think he’d enjoy having his world disrupted at all.
But other people’s—oh yes, she could see how he’d revel in it.
Not the profit alone, but for the knowledge that he had so powerful an impact on so many lives.
Was there a limit to his wanting? She wasn’t sure there was.
What would Gisele say when Morgan had to tell her what had happened? Actually, she knew. She gathered her courage. “What do I get out of this?”
Bel’aliol raised his brows, the horns jutting at her. “You’ve already received your payment in passage back to your own realm.”
“And that’s the equivalent of Brad’s rewards? You never seem to say no to him.”
“If you’d like to increase your debt, you’re certainly more than welcome.”
“I was thinking more a finder’s fee,” she said, trying to sound calm.
Businesslike. How would Kelly handle this?
She had something Bel’aliol wanted, now was the time to negotiate.
“If this is really going to open up an entirely new business line for you, even as you remove your rivals from your territory, surely that’s increased the total value of my contribution well beyond one minor commute. ”
He snorted. “Your pet fancies herself a businesswoman, Lucareoth. What were you thinking, human? Same package as Brad—wealth and power and fame? Looking to betray and supplant your boss?”
For a moment, she pictured herself with wealth and power.
She didn’t even want that much. Security.
Maybe an apartment with less of a commute and a little more closet.
A dishwasher. An in-unit washer and dryer.
Maybe even a doorman? But would it stop there?
Once she had it, she’d see a bigger apartment, a better one.
Nicer clothes, dinners out at nice restaurants.
A getaway in the Hamptons, followed by a house in the Hamptons.
A senator or two. All of it paid for in slivers of other people’s afterlives they wouldn’t even know they’d given away.
No, she didn’t want that. Not at that price. But. What if Gisele were right and she could improve things? For everyone? If it were going to happen anyway?
“Does it have to be for me?” she asked.
“Looking to buy favors for someone else?” he seemed mildly intrigued. “It would depend. And how would this person feel, knowing you sacrificed souls for their benefit?”
“I was thinking something wider spread.”
“Be more specific.”
What would be the best use for this? She should have thought this out in more detail. “What if I wanted to, say, pass some legislation? That protected people?”
Bel’aliol stared at her for a long moment. Then he tipped his head back and laughed, a booming sound that resonated painfully in her bones. “You’re trying to be an altruist? A startup marketer? Oh, that’s adorable.”
“I took the job I could get,” she said defensively. Like she had to explain herself to a literal demon. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care about people.”
“No.” He settled back in his chair.
“Just no?” She stared, baffled. “Why not? You give Brad whatever ridiculous thing he wants.”
“Every ridiculous thing Brad wants is self-serving.”
“What, passing legislation is harder than swapping an entire company from B2B software to consumer appliances?”
“It’s not about difficulty,” Bel’aliol said, reveling in her discomfort. “Do you really think you’re the first human in history to try to trade a soul for a good deed? Although I’ll grant you the novelty of trying to sell other people’s souls instead of yours for that altruism.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be evil. You all keep correcting me that it’s the Infernal Plane, not Hell.”
“We’re not whatever your religions have made up, no.
” He steepled his fingers. “However, that doesn’t mean we’re in the business of putting ourselves out of business.
Our entire model depends on you fools wanting things so badly that you’re willing to sacrifice a chunk of your afterlife for it.
Why would we ever do something that decreased the net amount of misery on your plane? ”
The thought should have been obvious. She knew how corporations worked on her side. And yet, it took her breath away. “You only grant wishes that make our world worse?”
He shrugged. “Neutral is fine. The occasional tiny benefit can be tolerated for the sake of the whole, although we usually have to get special permission, slippery slopes and all. But no saving innocents without seriously corrupting the guarantor, no solving poverty or disease, certainly nothing that makes your political systems less of a disaster than they already are. We give our clients anything they want, as long as it increases the amount of wanting.” He gave her a toothy smile. “Still interested in doing business?”
She swallowed. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that,” he said. “But I’ve been doing this job for more than six hundred years. I highly doubt you will think of a loophole I haven’t already seen. Ah, I can see the loathing in your eyes. That’s fine. Consider it motivation.”
He tapped the crystal.
“Play your cards right,” he continued. “And we need never see each other again. But should this episode end, shall we say, unsatisfactorily, we may spend a very, very long time together. I have my preference in the matter, of course. But it’s up to you. Remember—the House always wins.”