Page 39 of Hellfire & Tinsel
It made something in Kassel’s chest move. It felt seismic. Irreversible.
“You’d go through eternal torture just because you know me?” Kassel asked.
Beau smiled, but it wasn’t as bright and carefree. “You’d go easy on me because we’re friends, right?”
Friends.
Did Kassel have friends? It wasn’t a concept demons thought about. They coexisted. They worked together. They killed each other. They fucked.
It was all very straightforward. Nothing complex.
Oren being added to the mix had given it a flavor not a lot of them were familiar with. Humanity. Kindness. Monogamy.
Kassel looked at Beau and realized for the first time in his life that besides his want to keep Beau protected and safe, he cared too. About something. About anything. Beau had created a soft, warm spot inside him. A spot that would indeed stay his hand from inflicting pain if Beau ever ended up in his circle of Hell.
It was unprecedented.
He’d spent the last eternity simply being. Emotion didn’t factor in, aside from frustration or satisfaction with his job. Beau was also his job, but he had brought on a rainbow of emotions Kassel was battling through by the minute.
It was the most confused he’d ever been in his long life.
“I would,” he answered honestly. “Go easy on you.”
It didn’t seem like Beau knew entirely what he was admitting to him. He simply smiled at him, still with a tinge of sadness before redirecting his gaze elsewhere. “Let’s look around?”
Kassel nodded, allowing Beau to sweep them up into the crowd.
They tried various things. Foods that were disgusting. Drinks that were less so, only because they included wine. Songs continued to play on a loop, and there was endless chattering around them.
At some point Beau had shuffled closer to him, brushing their arms together and twitching his fingers but not daring to take the next step. He reeked of unfulfilled desires, and Kassel took his hand in his, shaking his head in amusement as the cloud dissipated, leaving only a soul glowing with contentment.
They eventually reached the end of the food stalls, turning into a row of brightly lit booths that contained games of all types and sizes. They meandered through, watching kids and adults laugh and holler as they played.
“Oh. My. God. That purple duck is soooo cute,” Beau whispered, jerking to a halt, his pupils practically turning into hearts.
Kassel followed his gaze upward to a stoic-looking stuffed thing that was half Beau’s height, hanging by the tinsel wrapped around its neck. It seemed more like a Christmas effigy being persecuted than ‘cute,’ but Beau was looking at it like he’d seen the gates to paradise, even if that place was highly overrated.
“We’ll buy it,” Kassel said.
“We can’t. You have to win it.” Beau pointed to the sign. “But I’m no good at carnival-type games.”
“Step right up, step right up! Find and hook the golden duck and you get to choose one of our top-shelf items. Ducks included,” the guy behind the booth said, giving a jaunty smack to a fluffy, webbed foot above his head. He didn’t even pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping on their conversation.
Kassel stepped over, Beau following eagerly.
“Do you think you can do it?” Beau asked, so, so hopeful.
Kassel glanced at the juvenile game. It was a pond of plastic ducks with hooks on their heads. All he had to do was hook the right one with the pole and that was it. “Of course.”
“Confident, eh? Well, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is.” The guy laughed, holding out his hand, palm up. “Twenty dollars for five attempts.”
Beau smacked the bill into his hand before he’d even finished, and Kassel was handed a pole.
“Have at it,” the guy said, pocketing the cash with a smirk.
Kassel ticked a brow at him before turning back to the game. He adjusted his grip on the pole, too used to using knives, but certain that he would quickly get the hang of it.
Attempt one had him frowning.
