Page 53 of The Final Deal

No—this isn’t only about me.

I swipe away a couple of stray tears, giving Father Tomas the best, most genuine smile I can muster. “I'm sorry. I'm just having a bad day today, is all.”

Father eyes me cautiously. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

I nod, refusing to add anything further.

After a moment, he asks, “Does your question have to do with the band? There’s always been rumors that Timeless made a deal with the devil.”

I burst into laughter; I almost forgot about the local legends aboutus. “C’mon, Father. Musicians selling their souls for rock ‘n’ roll? How cliché can you get?”

“Never hurts to ask, I suppose,” he chuckles. “Or… or are you asking because of what the Ramoses do at the botanica? I know Zak practices curanderismo since his mother passed, but I’ve heard rumors that they sometimes perform magia negra.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. It was a silly question; forget I asked.”

He clasps his hands together in front of him, and his expression remains serious. “Rock ‘n’ roll isn’t worth your soul. If the devil really is involved, you can confess and accept Christ again. The devil’s grip will loosen.”

I bite back an exasperated sigh and train my eyes on the mole protruding from his forehead so I don’t roll them. “Okay, Father. Thank you for the talk.”

He shuffles away with his hands clasped behind him and a black rosary swinging from his fingers. I collapse on a concrete bench; my head is swimming, desperately treading imaginary water to keep me above the feeling of drowning.

A gloved hand wraps around my throat and yanks me backward.

I yelp, about to scream for help until the black brim of a cowboy hat comes into view. Warm breath flows over my ear and wraps my body in tension that could snap under the slightest pressure.

“If you back out of this, all of you are dead.”

“I’m not backing out,” I insist with a pitched voice. A tear shakes out of the corner of my eye. “I have everything set up.”

His fingers cinch around my throat. “You’re forgetting something.”

Another person comes into view. Curly reddish-brown hair cascades on one side of his head, and large plugs shimmer within stretched ears.

An impish grin appears on Ty’s face as he sits beside me.

Chapter 20

Pressure

–Betraying the Martyrs

“What the fuckis he doing here?” I demand.

“You seem to be forgetting you’re partnering with him for every other day that isn’t New Year’s Ball.”

When the devil places a hand on Ty’s shoulder, he flinches, and his smug beam falters.

I jump up from the bench. “No, absolutely not!”

The shadows muddy his true face, but I know he’s raised an eyebrow as we stare each other down. “Are you reneging on your deal?”

I shuffle my weight around, clench and unclench fists at my sides, relentlessly fidgeting as my heart thunders in my chest. “No. But I didn’t agree to this.”

“Think of it as expanding the festival’s empire,” he says simply as his hand falls from Ty’s shoulder.

“And if I don't?”

“Then why should I keep my end of our deal?”

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