Except…they could. As a juror and demonic “property,” I was untouchable. But nobody in Hell’s hierarchy would care what they did to Seth. He was a mortal, one who didn’t play much of a role in anything that concerned them. No one would raise an eyebrow if he died under mysterious—or mundane—circumstances.
The thought that they would try to do this to me made me ill. And yet, I knew I had no reason to feel so wronged. I was a f**king succubus. I worked for Hell. Everyone who was part of this insane spectacle had given into temptation and sold their souls out for greed, jealousy, or some other vice. There were no morals here. No sense of honor. No need for justice. No one cared about Seth. No one cared if Starla and Clyde were guilty or not.
Except, of course, me.
When morning came, I went to the deliberation room like someone sleepwalking. The others had already gathered, just like yesterday. When I entered, they all looked up, and the sight of those smirks and knowing looks made my stomach roil. I averted my eyes, looked straight ahead, and sat in my corner.
“All right then,” said Magenta Lips. An image of her eyes on Seth last night flashed into my head. “Shall we wrap this up? Who’s in favor of convicting Starla and Clyde?”
“Me,” said Peanut Butter.
“Me,” said Weak Chin.
Around the room they went. And just like yesterday, it all came down to me again. Twelve demons, eyes boring into me. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I could smell brimstone in the air. I hunkered back into my corner.
Just say the word, an angry voice in my head said. Agree with them. End this. Go home. Keep Seth safe.
Seth. Seth was what mattered here. Whatever happened to Starla and Clyde wouldn’t kill them. It would hurt. Oh, yeah. It would definitely hurt. Like, five centuries worth of hurt. But they’d survive. Not like Seth. Seth was mortal. One accident would kill him. And whereas both Starla and Clyde probably had a laundry list of other atrocities they deserved punishment for, Seth did not. Seth was good. Seth gave stuffed animals away to children. Seth came clean about his girlfriend with another woman he was attracted to. Seth did what was right.
Seth always did what was right.
The words hurt coming out when I spoke to the demons.
“I’m…not…convinced…yet…”
They’d been surprised yesterday to hear my dissension, but they were really surprised today. I don’t think this many demons had been caught off guard since the Reformation.
The demon who’d lit a cigarette yesterday lunged for me. “Why, you little—”
Peanut Butter caught him. “Don’t.”
Another demon took up the cause. “But you heard her! She—”
“Yeah!” interrupted another. “Some succubus slut isn’t going to keep me from being a lieutenant in Monaco—”
“Quiet,” snapped Magenta Lips. Silence descended. Her eyes fell on me, and it was like frost spreading along my flesh. Her immortal signature swirled around me, cloying and fetid. Like greenhouse flowers starting to rot. “She’s not convinced yet.” Her voice was very calm, very steady.
“I’ll convince her,” growled the restrained demon.
The demoness gestured slightly to Weak Chin. “Explain our logic again, please.”
He did. There was an edge of annoyance to his words as he spoke, but otherwise he wound through the whole string of bullshit reasons that they’d contrived yesterday. When he finished, he looked at me expectantly.
Seth, Seth, my inner voice whispered. What are you doing?
I trembled as I started to speak. “I—that is—”
The demoness cut me off with a raised palm. “No, don’t answer yet. Just think about what we said. Let’s break for lunch, and meet back in half an hour.”
I gaped. The others shared my surprise. Lunch? We’d been here for fifteen minutes. But this group, as impatient as they were for me to succumb, also welcomed the opportunity for a break. They scurried out or simply vanished. As they went, I expected someone to hold me back and issue a few threatening words, but none of them did.
I headed downstairs alone, uneasy and perplexed. I didn’t feel hungry, but I hadn’t eaten all day, so I figured I should at least have coffee and a doughnut. In the elevator, I found Clyde waiting for me.
“Don’t talk to me,” I said wearily.
His face was hard. “I’ve heard what’s going on. They’re setting us up. Starla and me.”
“Yeah, I kind of know that,” I snapped. “I’ve had to put up with twelve demons yelling at me over it for two days now.”
“We didn’t do it,” he said fiercely.
“I know, I know. No one did it.” God, I wanted to be anywhere else. A warm beach or my bed would have been optimal, but honestly, I wasn’t picky at this point.
“You can’t let them convict us. It isn’t fair.” Fear and desperation hung in his voice, surprising me. He always seemed so tough, like a five-century disembowelment wouldn’t faze him at all.
“Fair? Fair?”
We stepped out of the elevator. On the other side of the lobby, I saw Seth about to leave for the day. He’d paused to talk to the concierge and caught my eye. I held up a hand to tell him to hang on, and then I turned back to Clyde.
“I’ll tell you what isn’t fair,” I said. “You see that guy over there? That’s my boyfriend. He has nothing to do with any of this. He just came here to keep me company. But since I decided to take the high ground with your case, those bastards on the jury are threatening to kill him if I don’t vote their way. That’s not fair.”
Clyde’s face grew less angry. A sober, grim look took over. “They wouldn’t do it.”
“Wouldn’t they? And anyway, even if they don’t and I still manage to keep up with this nobility, I’m never going to sway them. This’ll just keep going. Kurtis’s bribes are too good. He offered me…well, something I’ve always wanted. And he apparently promised to make some other demon a lieutenant demon in Monaco. God only knows what else is on the table.”
Clyde snorted. “He’s lying then. Kurt’s powerful, but he can’t do that. You think he’d still be in Belgium if he could pull strings for a Monaco transfer?”
Great. Fake bribes. As if this thing wasn’t bad enough.
“Well, even so,” I argued, “that demon on the jury sure believed it. That’s all that matters.”
“So…you’ve given up.”
“You act like you’re shocked by that!” I exclaimed. “Why is it okay for everyone around here to have black souls, yet somehow I’m held up to a higher standard?”
He’d grown solemn again. “Because there’s something in you that isn’t gone yet. A glimmer of goodness.”
“A glimmer of goodness?”
“Yes. And around here, that means some—”
That’s when the chandelier fell without warning.
There was no shaking, no trembling. No sign that it was starting to slip. Bam! The same chandelier hanging over the lobby that I’d mocked for cheapness came crashing down and hit the hard floor in a spectacular explosion of glass. Shards of all sizes spread out in a glittering radius throughout the room. Apparently it wasn’t plastic after all. It was like watching a production of Phantom of the Opera, except with better special effects.
We couldn’t suffer any real injuries, but Clyde grabbed my arm instinctively and jerked me back. We stared at the mess, stunned. People were shouting. Somehow, inexplicably, no one had actually been directly under it. It was a miracle—ironic, considering most of the hotel’s current guests. The spraying glass had done a fair amount of bodily damage, however, and almost everyone around the lobby had sustained some kind of cut.
Including Seth.
I broke out of Clyde’s grasp and tore off across the room, circling around the wreckage. Seth still stood by the concierge’s desk. He’d dropped his messenger bag and held a two-inch shard of glass in his hand. Blood coated one end of it, and I saw the complementary slash in his cheek.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Are you okay?”
He grimaced. “I think so. Are there any more? It doesn’t feel like it.”
Tiny pieces of glass and a fine crystalline powder covered a lot of his clothing, but I saw no more stuck in his skin, fortunately. It was warm out, but undoubtedly out of habit from Seattle, he’d headed out today with a flannel shirt over his Lynda Carter T-Shirt. The long sleeves had protected him, as had the thick fabric.