Page 87 of Interior Design for Demons
I slam a palm against the wall and bend over, gagging. When nothing comes up, I release a soft whimper.
A cool hand cups my chin, tilting my face up.
Gardenia and lemons.
“Get away,” I gasp, pushing at Apollyon’s chest. “Your smell—I’m going to throw up again.”
“Rude,” he says. “I’ve always been told I smell delightful.”
“It’s just too strong—after what I saw—oh god—”
He withdraws a few steps. “You survived this round. Lucky girl.”
“Not lucky,” I snap. “Skilled. Creative. Smart.”
“You’re all those things and more,” he agrees. “But I wanted to tell you something, Grace—this next round will be difficult. And I cannot help you, even if—”
The next part of his sentence hangs bitter and broken and unsaid.
Even if I lose, he can’t help me.
“You mean youwon’thelp me,” I spit.
“I can’t, and I won’t. As much as I might want to assist you, there are limits to my strength and abilities. You know this. You know I am not the most powerful of demons. Don’t expect me to save you. I won’t risk everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve built. Helping you would plunge me into instant destruction, and that’s what I’ve been trying to avoid this whole time. It would be—counterproductive. Antithetical to my goals. I hope you can understand that.”
“I do.” I lift my head, smiling at him bitterly. “I understand that you’re the same selfish coward you’ve always been. And I’m on my own, likeI’vealways been. So neither one of us has changed at all, really. Good to know.”
“Truth’s a bitch, isn’t it?” He gives me a crooked grin. “At least we had a mythically intense connection.” His hand slips down his stomach, over his crotch. “If there’s one thing I regret, it’s not being able to repeat that experience.”
“Weird,” I answer, my heart pounding pain. “If there’s one thing I regret, it’s initiating that experience.”
I don’t look to see how or if my words affect him. Straight-backed and steady, I walk past him. Not until I’m sure he’s far behind me do I sag against the wall, while a piece of my broken heart hitches jagged in my throat, and great sobs threaten to crack my ribs.
Rath finds me slumped against the wall, weeping and weary. He’s reeling and staggering himself, but somehow we both make it back to my room, where we collapse on the bed together.
We don’t touch each other. But we fall asleep like that, and when I resurface from a sodden nightmare, Rath is groaning awake, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Someone is hammering on the door. “It’s Melek, Miss Labelle. You’re expected at the party.”
“Stupid-ass party,” I moan. “Give me a few minutes, Melek.”
It takes every particle of willpower I have to drag myself off that bed and into the bathroom. Thankfully my period is nearly over, so it’s not as complicated to use the toilet in the dark. Afterward I switch on the light and swipe some heavy makeup onto my eyes and mouth. Screw subtlety. I’m done playing along with these stupid post-elimination celebrations.
When I return to the bedroom, Rath is sitting on the edge of the mattress, ruffling his golden waves. “Why were you crying so hard when I found you?”
I chew my lip, unwilling to tell him that Apollyon has broken my heart—again. “I guess it’s just being this close to the end, you know? I’m really worried I’m going to get cut next round. Ishtar hates me, Rath—she always has. She has only kept me around for drama’s sake, and because so many of the demons like me. But I have this terrible feeling she’s going to end me in Round 8.”
Rath’s eyes fill with fire. “She can’t.”
“She can, and you know it.”
“I can’t let you be killed, little rebel. You have become—a friend.”
“Aghilas, Amanda, and Hisae are my friends, too. If I don’t die, one of them will. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”
He looks desperate, pitiful, his brow seamed with effort. “I try to understand, but I’m afraid I can’t. Ialmostcan.”
“It’s not your fault.” I plop down beside him. “You don’t have that something, that scrap of a soul that I thought—”That I thought Apollyon had. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll forget me quickly. How’s your human target doing?”
