Page 9 of Hellbound

“Now it sounds like you just want to straight-up murder me.”

“Someone’s been listening to too many true-crime podcasts.”

“Joke’s on you. I don’t listen to anything.” How could she when her neighbor’s Wi-Fi was one step above dial-up?

Mr. Vale chuckled, and the sound trailed down her spine like an unwelcome caress.

“Have you ever killed anyone before?” She’d never even let a client watch her die, much less kill her.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes? Actually, no, I don’t.” Marian pressed a hand to her forehead, nudging her hat back as her stomach somersaulted again. “Wow, I hate this conversation.”

She hated this situation, the fear coursing through her blood like poison, and how Mr. Vale would not stop staring at her. But most of all, she hated herself for entertaining any of it.

She wished there was another way. She wished she could find steady work where her wages weren’t garnished into oblivion. But here she was.

“How do you die?”

Mr. Vale’s deep, smoky voice drew her out of her thoughts.

“I drown.” It was one of the few methods that didn’t require anyone to touch her.

The demon pushed away from the desk and strode to the center of the room. “Then CPR should be more than sufficient. If I show you my certification, will you stop tearing that disgusting jacket apart in my office?”

Marian glanced down at where her finger poked through the hole she’d torn through her pocket. She folded her arms across her chest instead. Then she looked up at Mr. Vale, brows furrowed.

“Why are you CPR certified?”

Mr. Vale gestured to the darkening skyline outside his window. “Because I am surrounded by things that can die.”

Marian supposed that made sense. If she was immortal and trapped on Earth, she’d probably take up bizarre hobbies, too.

“I’ll need water. A lot of it.”

Fuck if she was going to drown herself in a bathtub again.

“There’s a saltwater lap pool on the thirtieth floor. We won’t be disturbed.”

Marian found that last part far more frightening than Mr. Vale’s tone implied.

“Of course there’s a fucking saltwater lap pool here. What a fun little treat for me,” she said under her breath. When she looked up to meet his anticipatory gaze, it clicked, and her mouth fell open in horror. “You want to do this now, don’t you?”

“You leaving to find a spotter will invite curiosity from other demons and competition from other divers, neither of which I want.”

His haste should have been Marian’s cue to pump the brakes on the deal. If Mr. Vale failed to revive her, she’d become a permanent resident of Hell tonight. But her rational voice was so far away now, far above where she’d fallen. Silence consumed the office while a war waged inside her. She spat out the first cogent thought that formed.

“I want my payment up front and in cash. All of it.”

Mr. Vale barked a laugh. A dark, rich sound that almost made Marian buckle at the knees. “What, in a briefcase? Handcuffed to you so you won’t lose it on the bus home? Absolutely not. I will wire the funds to you as usual.”

“No, I—” Marian replied far louder than she meant to. “Write me a check for six thousand, made out to ‘cash.’ Wire the rest.”

She made a snap decision to at least make sure she’d be able to pay her landlord the back rent she owed tomorrow. The rest wouldn’t be hers for long, either.

“Fine.” Mr. Vale stepped closer, watching her carefully as though he expected her to bolt at any moment. “Do we have a deal?”

He held out a long hand that was almost as pale as Marian’s. Could this really be the first rung of the ladder out of the pit she’d dug herself? Two hundred thousand dollars and answers. All she had to do was let a demon kill her. She’d done dumber things for zero dollars, certainly.