Page 96 of Interior Design for Demons
“So the demons love him because he’s a rebel, and the angels love him because of the self-sacrifice.” I smirk at Apollyon. “Goodness, you’re popular. Are you sure you want puny little me? You could have your pick of angels, apparently.”
Apollyon seizes my chin and gives me a savage kiss, breathing wicked lust into my mouth. His kiss trickles down my throat like the stinging warmth of hard liquor tinged with honey. I’m left weak and wavering, flushed hot, with swollen lips.
“Does that answer your question?” He drags the pad of his thumb across my lower lip, wiping away a dot of blood from his teeth.
“Y-yes,” I falter. I don’t have a choice—I have to touch one of the bone-trees to brace myself so I don’t fall over.
Karaziel smiles indulgently at us. “My scheme is simple. I will speak to my people, and request a meeting of Heaven and Hell to discuss your fates, and to request the fair judgment of the human souls involved in this despicable contest. Do you know anyone who would press for such a meeting from this side, on behalf of Hell?”
“I’m not sure—” Apollyon begins, but I say, “Razenath will do it. Naamah knows how to find him.”
“Razenath?” Apollyon frowns at me. “Razenath the rule-follower, the one who was too much of a coward to defend you?”
“He tried,” I say. “And I think he is probably regretting not trying harder. If you press him now, when he’s feeling insecure about his choice, I’m sure he will help.”
“Good.” Karaziel nods. “Then I will speak with him before I leave. We will arrange a negotiation. It may take the shape of a trial of sorts, and the two of you will probably have to appear in person.”
“No,” growls Apollyon, pulling me to his chest. “Too dangerous. I won’t give them the chance to kill her.”
“This is your only way out,” says Karaziel. “If you do not take it, they will eventually find you, and then both your fates will be twice as terrible.”
The angel is right, and judging by the way Apollyon’s hands tighten on my arms, he knows it.
I disengage myself from Apollyon’s grip and step forward, toward the angel. “Thank you.” I look into that exquisite face, into those lovely lavender eyes. “This is a good plan. You’re doing us a great kindness, giving us a chance to survive. It’s more than I hoped for.”
“I admire you, Grace,” says the angel. “How could I live with myself if I did not attempt to be as brave and honest as you are?”
My breath catches, and I can’t speak. This angeladmiresme? How—why? I’ve spent this entire competition feeling like an insecure, capricious idiot.
“I cannot let you risk yourself for us, my friend,” says Apollyon. “If you come forward publicly, the higher angels will know of your visits to Hell and your trysts with me. They’ll strip you of your wings, and you will fall.”
“I know.” Karaziel smiles gently, moving past me and trailing fingertips along Apollyon’s cheek. “I have come to realize that I feel more at home here in Hell than I do in Heaven. I am prepared to fall, and to become a demon. But you, my dear, are the best of Hell. You have more true compassion and generosity than some angels I know.” Karaziel’s eyes turn glazed, distant. “Perhaps, if an angel can fall, a demon can rise.”
Apollyon looks confused, but he strokes the hand caressing his face. “It was you who first taught me that my vulnerabilities were nothing to be ashamed of. For that, I will be eternally grateful. And I’m telling you this now, because they will likely take your memories, my friend. I promise to remind you of your past life, but it won’t be the same as a true memory.”
“I understand.” Karaziel turns to me. “May I claim one kiss from your beloved before I go?”
“His kisses are his to give.” I nod to them both.
When their lips meet, Karaziel glows brighter, so brilliantly white it hurts my eyes.
Apollyon moves to withdraw, but Karaziel holds on for one more second before moving away and whisking on the dark cloak. Hooded and hidden, the angel glides to the hole leading out of the forest and disappears into it.
Time in the Bone Forest is strangely liquid. It seems to ebb and flow differently than it does in the rest of Hell, but I can’t be sure, because we have no way to track it. I try not to think about where I’m sitting, or what I’m touching—dried bits of human bodies stolen away from their graves in the Earthly plane.
After a long time—or maybe a short time—Naamah climbs out of the hole, bringing a box of food and drink for Apollyon and me. She doesn’t apologize for trying to eat my arm that one time, and I don’t mention it. She has more than paid me back by providing this place of refuge for me and Apollyon.
She can’t stay long, but she gives us a quick update. Apparently the demons have sped up the timeline for the competition—the contestants got just twenty-four hours to complete Round 9, the redesign of three different board rooms in Hell. I suppose board rooms aren’t that difficult. Hisae was eliminated and returned to the earthly plane after a memory wipe. For the sake of her husband and her three kids, I’m glad of it. I hope she lives the rest of her life well. Amanda was the second runner-up, so she gets to return to the Earthly plane, receive the job of her dreams, and live out the rest of her days. She’ll remember the contest, and how she failed to save her sister—but she’salive.
Aghilas won. He gets to consult and advise on the design for the rest of Hell—plus he gets riches, a longer-than-normal life, and health and youth to go with those extra years. And he gets to reclaim his person from the Pit.
Which means that my dad is stuck in the Pit forever.
My father did worse things than I realized—at least he hinted as much during our conversation. But even knowing that, I can hardly stand the thought of him being torturedforever. That seems extreme. I just—I can’t reconcile the idea of inescapable, eternal horror as a punishment for sins committed during a handful of decades. It makes me feel so angry and helpless.
But I can’t let myself go down that theological rabbit hole right now, because Naamah is talking about something else, something important. According to a message from Karaziel, Heaven has already agreed to re-judge the contestants who died, to see if some of them are worthy of Heaven. And the next item up for discussion is the eternal fate of a certain pair of rebellious lovers.
“Heaven and Hell will decide your fate soon,” she says. “I don’t know when or how the meeting will happen, but Razenath is pushing harder for this than anything else in his existence. I’ve never seen him so bold, so dedicated. It’s very arousing.” She licks her lips. “And they’re listening to him, because he so rarely does anything rebellious. If a meeting is arranged, I’ll tell him where you are, and he’ll come to fetch you for the judgment himself.”
