The angel’s palm revealed a black marble. She handed it to the judge who made no pretense at hiding his joy. He thanked her as she returned to her seat and then held the marble up for all the room to see. There was a murmur of excitement among the demons, delighted at having won the gamble he’d laid before us.
I had a moment of regret, but only a small one. I could’ve walked away from here with my soul and life intact. I could’ve never brought this up and continued my life as a succubus undisturbed, living out the dream scenario in Las Vegas. Instead, I’d risked everything for the chance to free myself and Seth. And I’d lost for both of us.
Had it been worth it?
Yes.
“ ‘Fate’ has spoken,” said Hannibal, still admiring the marble. “Per the rules, the decision now falls to a thirteenth juror, who will be randomly selected from a pool of Hell’s illustrious servants. Doris?”
Doris began clicking away at her laptop. After a few moments, she gave a nod toward the bailiff. He walked toward the back exit, presumably to escort in the thirteenth juror.
My heart felt heavy and leaden, and I was startled when Roman again placed his hand on mine. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I should have fought harder. Or pushed you to take the deal—”
I squeezed his hand back. “No. You were perfect. The only thing you shouldn’t have done was get involved with this mess.” It was impossible to believe, but whatever fate awaited me after my suit was denied wouldn’t be half as bad as his.
He gave me a playful smile. “What, and miss the chance to laugh in the face of Heaven and Hell? Besides, there’s no way I could leave you to—”
The courtroom had given way to chatter when the bailiff left, and now silence resumed upon his return. Whatever sentiments Roman had been about to say were lost, as he joined me in looking back to see the demon who would cast the last condemning vote on me. When I did, I had to do a double take.
It was Yasmine.
I almost didn’t recognize her. It had been a year since I’d seen her, a year since I’d watched her fall from grace, transforming from an angel to a demon. Yasmine had committed a number of grave sins as an angel, starting when she’d fallen in love. That alone was forbidden for her kind, but it had gone one step further—she’d fallen for a nephilim named Vincent. Vince was a great guy, but like Roman, the standard reaction from angels and demons alike had been prompt destruction. One angel had finally acted on that impulse, and Yasmine had rushed to defend Vince—killing the other angel in the process.
And with that, she had been condemned to Hell.
I had seen it. It had been terrible. One angel’s death, another’s fall. It had all gone down the night Nyx had been found and recaptured. Vince and I had been in the cross fire of it. I’d done what I could for him, but there was nothing I could do to stop Heaven’s punishment.
Before leaving town, Vince had told me that it didn’t matter what I thought I knew about Yasmine. He’d said that once she had spent enough time in Hell and around other demons, she’d become like them. It was what happened to all of them, how someone like Carter could become someone like Jerome. I hadn’t believed it at the time but could understand it better after being surrounded in the despair and wrongness of this place. And when I studied her now, I could see it had happened to her too.
I remembered a smiling, laughing young woman with sparkling dark eyes and shining black hair. The hair and eyes were ostensibly the same, but there was no light or laughter in them. Her eyes seemed fathomless, dark and cold as she stared straight ahead and walked to the front of the courtroom. She was wearing a gauzy black dress, reminding me of some Goth courtesan, and her long, flowing hair blended into the silken fabric. Even if I’d never met her or known her history, I would have instantly identified her as a demon. Just like the others in the room, there was something in the way she looked and carried herself.
I was about to be condemned by someone who had once been my friend.
Yasmine reached the front of the courtroom and was gestured toward the witnesses’ table. She sat down, gazing around the room with an unreadable expression.
“You’ve been following the trial?” asked Judge Hannibal.
“Yes,” she said, in a voice as expressionless as her face. How she’d been watching, I couldn’t say. With Hell, it could’ve been closed-circuit TV or a magic mirror for all I knew.
“And you understand your duty?” asked Hannibal.
“Yes,” she replied.
Hannibal was trying to maintain some semblance of formality and procedure, but the self-satisfied smirk on his face was kind of negating that. He was too goddamned pleased with himself and this turn of events.
“Cast your vote then, based on the evidence and arguments you’ve witnessed. If you believe the two contracts are both sound and have not contradicted each other, then cast your vote against the petitioner.”
When silence followed, Roman spoke up. “And if she thinks the two contracts aren’t valid?”
“Yes, yes.” Hannibal made a dismissive gesture, annoyed at this obvious waste of his time. “If you believe the contracts do contradict each other, then cast your vote for the petitioner.”
Yasmine was given a piece of paper and pen, just like the other jurors. And just like the others, she wasted no time in writing her vote, her markings swift and certain. When she finished, she looked up serenely, no change in her expression, no sign that we’d ever once known each other. As terrible as I felt about my own fate, I couldn’t help but feel nearly as bad for what Hell had done to someone as good and kind as her. No, I thought. Not just Hell. Really, Heaven was just as guilty. What kind of group could advocate goodness and not allow its members to love?
Hannibal took the paper from her with a flourish and held it out before him to read. “In accordance with the laws of this court, and the infallible Kingdom of Hell, the jury finds—” There was a pause, and the next part came out as a question. “In favor of the petitioner?”
A spark of goodness in the darkness. . . .
For a moment, nothing happened. The courtroom was silent, frozen in time. Then, several things happened right on top of each other.
From behind me, I heard Jerome say, “Shit.”
Yasmine winked at me.
Roman hugged me.
Hannibal reread the slip of paper, looked at Yasmine, and then swallowed before speaking. “Both contracts are declared invalid, null and void.”
Most of the room was on its feet, voices raised in fury. I had no time to process what they were saying, though, because I was disintegrating away.
“No, not yet!” I exclaimed.
I reached desperately for Roman, whose arms had been around me, but couldn’t get ahold of him anymore. I was becoming nothing, a will-o’-the-wisp, unable to grasp anything of substance. I tried, though. I tried to grab him and take him with me because there was no way I could leave him here, not in the midst of a bunch of demons pissed off over having just lost two souls. I even tried to say his name, but it didn’t work. I had no mouth, no voice anymore. I was leaving this place, and he was staying.
The last thing I saw was his sea green eyes regarding me with both happiness and sorrow. I thought I heard him saying something about “a far, far greater thing,” and then I perceived nothing. I would have screamed in fury if I could have, but I was gone. I was nothing.
Only darkness.
Chapter 21
You would think the first moments of my new life, with a soul, would be magical and wonderful. Mostly, they just hurt.
“Ow.”
“Not quite the same without immortal healing, eh, sweetie?”
I squinted into Hugh’s grinning face. He stood in front of a huge window, backlit into blinding radiance. Turning my head, I slowly assessed the rest of my surroundings, taking in the familiar signs of a hospital room. I was lying on a bed, an IV in my arm, next to some beeping machines with indecipherable readouts.