Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Of course not. Love does not exist,” she said with no trace of mocking. “It is a human fantasy. Something you waste your time with to make your mortal existence bearable— Oh, and what is roman... tic?” Sabrina sounded genuinely curious. “And how are you confusing the translation spell? My lord swore I would be able to understand your human speech.”
I seriously thought I might cry. Hell was a terrible place. Of course I knew this even before I came here, but it never occurred to me that the true reason it was so horrible wasn’t because of the fire, brimstone, cruelty, or torture.
It was because you had to endure all of those things without friendship, romance, or love.
“All of that aside,” I got out, “I don’t think Tristan is involved. He looked genuinely surprised and embarrassed when he got an eyeful of my boobs. If he knew I was Dora’s sister and he was just trying to get me to reveal myself, why go that far in the performance? I mean seriously, can you even blush on demand?” I tossed my head. “My point is I want to give him the benefit of the doubt until there’s proof. Get into the werewolf wing and suss out all you can learn about him. Because something tells me the return of the Slaughterer of All But One is big news on their side of the door.”
“Very well.”
Sabrina slithered down my leg and set off with no more argument—which was a miracle in and of itself. I followed her with my eyes until she slipped into the darkness.
I blew out a breath. “Okay. Time to—”
Clink.
I whipped around, eyes snapping to the end of the hall—just in time to see the figure dart back and disappear around the corner.
“Wha— Hey? Hey!” I chased after them, beating it down the corridor. “Who are—?”
I skidded around the bend, but there was no one there.
THAT NIGHT, I PERUSED through my textbooks—looking for any mention of the witches. Shockingly, there was a lot. In the books assigned for the History of Hell and the Great Invasion, there were pages upon pages about witches—
—and none of it was flattering.
I assumed it was because demon editors didn’t believe in censorship, because the whole thing was just a rant about what bitches, cunts, whores, and all the rest witches are. I mean, for real, the ink bled with hatred towards all things witch. There was no end to the information on how much witches suck, but I couldn’t find a single line related to the history Professor Radu shared with us that day.
Nothing about how witches rose up to stop the vampires, demons, and fae that were stealing their blood, souls, children, and lives. Nothing on the covens that became so formidable, they started to give the supernaturals a run for their money. And definitely nothing on how they banished them all from earth, threw them in hell, and slammed the gates behind them.
“Was Radu there?” I muttered to myself while flipping through my rewritten notes. “Is that why he knows the truth? But even if he was, why is it a secret? The lords of hell would really prefer demons believe hell was invaded instead of admitting they were beaten by a bunch of girls?” I snorted. “Men.”
My key shot out of the lock, snapping my head upright. I was up and beaming by the time Ronin walked through the door.
“Hello, Mr. Belphe, welcome back.”
He cast a disinterested glance over me, then flicked over to the spread laid out on the coffee table. “What’s this?”
I giggled. “Why, it’s dinner, of course. I noticed how noises and crowds tire you, so I thought you’d prefer a nice, quiet meal here.”
Quirking a brow, he looked from me, to the sausages, pasta, fruit, and cheesecake beckoning him over, and then back to me. “You poisoned it,” he dropped like it was a simple matter of fact. “And what? You think I’ll find your murder attempt endearing because I was intrigued by your pointless act of defiance?”
My glowstick grin went nowhere. “You’re so funny, Mr. Belphe. Of course I didn’t poison you. Why would I poison the wonderful, handsome, talented demon that it is my privilege to serve?”
Pale lips curled. “Ugh. What the hell’s the matter with you? You talk like you dress.”
If anything, my smile widened. It was true, I looked particularly insane in bright pink velour sweatpants and a canary-yellow blazer with some serious shoulder pads, but Lucifer’s attempts to humiliate me, couldn’t touch me right now. It was just too much fun seeing the mix of disgust and confusion on Belphe’s normally expressionless face. Why?
The only other time he broke his stoicism was when he hurt me in front of everyone. If there was anything I learned from my time in middle school, it’s that sociopaths lose interest quick when you take all the fun out of bullying.