Page 78 of Interior Design for Demons
Several demons are slumped in the chairs, relaxing and chatting as if they’re normal people. Panic snatches my breath for a second because if they ask why I’m here, I’ll have no answers.
Then a figure sweeps in front of me, hustles me through the speakeasy and through a side door, into a stuffy space crowded with green velvet couches. The wallpaper in this room clashes horribly with the fabric—some demon’s failed attempt at bold design.
The demon who brought me in is unfamiliar—black hair, rather bland features. But then my host reaches up and pulls off their entire face and hair, like the spies in those Mission Impossible movies. Underneath the disguise is the cloudy white-gold hair, lavender eyes, and pristine face of the angel Karaziel.
“What the fuck?” I exclaim.
The angel winces.
“Sorry,” I say. “It’s just that you are the last person I expected to see.”
“I understand your surprise.”
“And how the f—” I catch myself and clear my throat. “How are you able to just pop into this plane whenever you want? Why can’t I do that? More to the point, if Apollyon can let you in and out whenever, can he get me back into the Earthly plane?”
“You pose a lot of questions.” The angel smiles gently. “Apollyon is restricted in his passage to and from Earth, as all demons are. They may only travel there and back when they have special permission, or official business. And only approved passengers are permitted for transport, on penalty of incineration. Travel to Hell from Heaven is a bit different.”
“So…can you explain it?”
Karaziel sighs faintly, but nods assent. “Apollyon and I first met on Earth, when I was guardian to a soul he was trying to corrupt.”
“And he ended up corruptingyouinstead,” I breathe. “How romantic.”
“Not at all. It was a practical arrangement between us. Certain needs of mine had begun to surface, and Apollyon agreed to meet those needs if I’d let him have free rein with my charge’s soul.”
I recoil, shocked. “So—you basically paid him for sex. And you failed to guard your human. Yousoldthe person you should have protected. That’s kind of despicable.”
The angel blinks golden lashes at me. “You do not understand the desperation of an angel like me. And what I asked of Apollyon, he was more than willing to give.”
“Shouldn’t you have, like, fallen by now?” I ask. “I mean—you’ve committed some pretty significant sins.”
“As have other angels in God’s service,” the angel answers. “God does not watch the angels’ motives and thoughts as closely as He does with you humans. And whatever an angel does within the borders of the Infernal Plane is shielded from the Almighty Sight.”
“I thought He was all-knowing.”
“He is. But He does not look into the plane of the damned. It pains Him too much.”
Interesting. “You still haven’t told me how you get into Hell.”
“To pass through a portal and access Hell, an angel needs a piece of brimstone from the Pit,” replies Karaziel. “Apollyon procured a chunk of it for me, and now I can slip in and out whenever I need to.”
“And does he get to visit Heaven sometimes?”
Karaziel’s dainty eyebrows lift. “Certainly not.”
I shrug. “Seems unfair. Couldn’t you give him like, a strand of your halo or something so he can get through the divine portals?”
“That isn’t how it works.”
“Okay, well—let’s get back to the note you sent me. Why did you want to meet? I hope you’re not expecting me to take care of your ‘needs,’ because I’m taken.”
“I’m aware.” The angel nods. “I’m here because Apollyon requested my help and advice on a particular matter. He contacted me some days ago, and told me that you are concerned for the fate of your immortal soul due to your participation in this contest.”
My mouth falls open.
I freaked out about my eternal doom on the night of the masquerade. Apollyon must have gone to Karaziel afterward and told him about my fears. But why? How could a corrupted angel help me?
Karaziel’s lavender eyes are pools of delicate sympathy. “You are afraid of damnation, yes?”
