Page 8 of Hell Burns Between Us

She gasped as her fingers plunged into the wounds.

A voice in the back of her mind whispered, it matters.

The other thought looming over her was that nothing about Brenn had ever seemed faithless to her—not her being driven or studious, not being attracted to demonesses, not even Brenn saying that she wasn’t sure about motherhood. The more she’d talked about these things with Brenn, the more they’d begun to feel normal.

It had almost come as a shock when she’d been violently reminded that these ideals were impious, and the quickest way to lose one’s soul. She’d wanted to argue, but she wasn’t in a position of power to do so—and anyway, her grandfather wanted what was best for his family. She thought of Slang’s accusation that the Grand Dukes were corrupt and shuddered. But just because Moloch was a tyrannical brute, didn’t make him nefarious.

Her fingers stilled, but her eyes remained fixed on the snake bites. How was living this life so easy for every other demoness in her family? Her heart beat frantically. She was trying to make her family proud—it didn’t make sense for it to be this hard. To hurt this much. Tears dripped onto her bloody fingers.

She took calming breaths as she shifted deeper into the bath, golden blood pooling around her. She forced Brenn and the Grand Dukes from her mind, the steam rising gently as she slipped under the water. She stayed there, basking in the heat, until her lungs burnt for air. By the time she rose from the water, her fingers had at least stopped trembling.

Oleander Brightmore

Oleander leaned against a massive column outside the Library of Magical Creatures. Before him sprawled the rest of the libraries, their façades all a uniform, headache-inducing coral colour. The Acquirement Circle always reeked of wildflowers, but here the familiar scent of wet ink and ancient books mingled with the rest, creating a pleasant contrast.

Oleander took a bite from his steaming cardamom bun, his impatience growing as he waited for his cup of coffee. Every morning, a gremlin with a bone-white pontoon would land nearby, offering rich, velvety hot drinks.

The pontoon was non-magical, which meant it stuck to rivers and lakes, avoiding waterfalls at all costs. Demonkind, who were by their nature more powerful, had a variety of boats that were enchanted to sail through water as well as air.

There was a time when the travelling café was never late, largely in fear of Oleander’s sister Wisteria, whose impatient fury was enough to make even the most stoic of gremlins quake. She had a knack for instilling a very specific kind of discipline in others, something Oleander had never quite mastered.

Heavy footsteps approached, making him think someone else was upset about the gremlin’s tardiness. He tossed the last bite of his pastry into his mouth when a shoulder slammed into him. Off-balance, he grabbed the column for support.

“Damn it, Brightmore! Why aren't you with your research partner?”

“Ow! You brute,” Oleander said, brushing nonexistent wrinkles from his jacket. He turned to glare at none other than Brennessel Croft. She stood before him, an imposing mountain of muscle in a myriad of green hues. “My personal collection of runic spiders embroidered this. It’s probably worth more than all your clothing combined.”

Croft scoffed. “I’m sure the bargain you made with those spiders was mutually beneficial.”

Every meeting with Croft was like a sharp, painful rash. They were the same age, which meant he’d been forced to study at the Academy with both her and Wilder since they were seven years old. Together, they’d been the bane of his existence.

For the past thirteen years they had bullied their professors into giving out loads of extra or more strenuous assignments. Croft especially was egregious at pushing all of her classmates to aim for perfection when doing the bare minimum was all that was required. These facts alone were enough to make her unbearable, but since Wilder had been assigned as his research partner, Croft had grown relentless. Every time he turned around, she was hounding him, scolding him… or just being generally harsh.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly unfazed. “I’ll ask again—why are you here, looking dapper, when I just saw Peri alone in the Fauna Circle obviously working on your project, looking like a burnt pile of shit?”

For fuck’s sake! He was currently overwhelmed helping to prepare the Rune Circle for all of Hell’s arrival for the Ascension Ceremony. And besides, he had shown up… eventually.

Oleander rolled his eyes. “I’m helping her just like I promised you I would.”

“Barely.”

He scoffed. “We could have written a perfectly adequate hypothesis for adrenaline elixirs without making the potion ourselves. That’s not even part of the assignment!”

“It’s not hard to care.” Croft’s eyes narrowed even further. “You know that having the actual ingredients means you can prove your hypothesis.”

He smirked. “Yes, well, I don’t care about all that.”

In truth, Oleander did care a little. He knew some of the potions Wilder had suggested would be incredibly valuable. The first one—a potion that allowed someone to stay awake for days without going insane—could make them popular with both the militia and the merrymakers in Hell. A part of him liked the idea of being renowned, but fame wouldn’t be enough to convince his father he was ready to become a soul reaper like his siblings.

To work with his father, Oleander would have to prove his ruthlessness. Anything else was irrelevant.

“Well,” Croft said. “Peri does care. And you’re her partner. You should at least be nearby in case she needs help.” She jabbed him in the ribs with more force than necessary. “She shouldn’t have to do everything alone.”

Oleander crossed his arms, raising a brow. “Why don’t you go with her if you care so much?”

“Brightmore,” Croft exhaled sharply. “You’re her assigned partner. Please be a better one.”

“Oh, fuck off. I am!” he rolled his shoulders back. “You’ve only given me a couple of days since lecturing me—in the middle of a party I might add—for not helping at all. And, like the good little demon I am, I chased her down and offered my assistance the very next morning! What more could you possibly want?”