Page 40 of The Devil She Knows
Sam held her breath, waiting and hoping against hope that Hannah would say yes.
“Look, Chef Cooper,” Hannah started, and Sam’s heart shrank. It was Chef Cooper again, not Sam. “You seem nice, but my focus is on my career at the moment. On growing my brand. I don’t have time for distractions, and even if I did,there’s no way I could date anyone who embarrassed me on national television the way you just did.”
Sam tugged on the end of her braided hair in frustration. Dammit, this wasn’t national television. This wasn’t evenreal. “I was going to make cake pops. You told me not to take it easy on you.”
“Because winning against someone who made stupid cake pops wouldn’t have been much of a win at all,” Hannah snapped. “It would be like winning against a little kid playing with a handicap in mini golf. To be perceived as the best, you have to be seen beating the best.”
Sam had lost the plot, no longer even sure what Hannah was mad at her for anymore. “I thought you’d be impressed with—”
“Oh, consider me impressed, Chef Cooper. I hope all of your success keeps you warm at night.”
Hannah spun on her heel and marched off.
“Wait, Hannah, please!” Hannah’s legs were so much longer than hers, the distance between them growing greater and greater. Too great. “This show isn’t even real! I know it sounds crazy, but, please, if you’ll just listen and trust me—”
Hannah stormed through an arched doorway, disappearing from sight.
“Oh,” Daphne muttered from behind her. “That’s not good.”
Not good?
Not good?
Anger burned white-hot through Sam’s veins. All she could taste was scorched copper, like there was an old pennyjammed under her tongue, like she had a mouthful of metal and ash. There was smoke in Sam’s throat and she could have spit. “Youdid this. This is all your—”
“No.” Daphne flapped her hand impatiently, and Sam had never wanted to wallop someone upside the head with a cast-iron skillet so badly in her life. “That’s the wrong vomitorium.”
She reared back. “The wrongwhat?”
“Vomitorium.” Daphne pressed her fingertips to the space between her brows and sighed. “It’s a passage that leads out of the arena.” She pointed across the arena, stage left. “Thatis the exit. It pops out right at the corner of West Forty-Eighth Street and Tenth Avenue.” She turned and gestured to the door Hannah had disappeared through. “Thatis the passage to the second circle, where carnal malefactors are condemned.” She looked at Sam from beneath her lashes. “Lusty little louses.”
“I got it,” Sam snapped. “Go—go stop her, then! Bring her back! Do something!”
Daphne grimaced. “I would … if I could.”
“What do you mean ‘would if you could’? Are your legs broken or something? Go!”
“See, here’s the thing about Hell. Unless you’re visiting”—Daphne nodded to Sam’s visitor’s sticker—“every soul who enters Hell, not just those overcome by lust, must pass through the second circle. And every soul who enters the second circle must confess their sins to Minos, who then sentences them accordingly.” Daphne tugged on her ear and avoided eye contact. “Not even I have the power to unring that particular bell, Sam. Once you’ve been condemned,there’s no leaving here. You are, as the youths of today say, cooked.”
A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, coming from the direction in which Hannah had fled.
Daphne winced sharply. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that the glamour I cast just wore off.”
Seriously? Fuck it. Sam looked Daphne right in the eye.
“Shenanigans.”
9
BACK INSIDE THE not an elevator, not-not an elevator, Daphne was stretched across the pink chaise like a cat, an emery board in hand, filing her nails into sharp, stiletto-like points. She looked up only briefly, then returned to her filing. “Welcome back.”
“What the hell was that?” With the memory of Hannah’s screams rattling in her head, haunting her, Sam stormed over and snatched the nail file from Daphne’s hands, hurling it across the room with as much force as she could muster. It hit the wall with a soft metallic plink before dropping soundlessly onto the carpet. The outburst did nothing to quell her anger. “You promised. No jeopardy to life or—”
“I promised not to cause jeopardy toyourlife or limb,” Daphne said. “I said nothing about anyone else’s. Which isn’t to say I meant for it to happen; I’ll be the first to admit that what befell Hannah was unfortunate, but really, it was a casualty of her own carelessness, Sam. She shouldn’t havestormed off like that or gone poking around in places where she didn’t belong.”
“You brought her toHell. What did you expect to happen?” Sam’s heart dropped like a stone inside her stomach. “Wait. She’s not … she’s not still down there, is she?”
“Calm down. You used our safe word, thus ending your wish. Think of it as a factory reset. Right now, Hannah’s across town—” Daphne stopped, eyes widening a fraction. “She’s across town doing exactly what she would’ve been doing had you never met me.”
