Chapter Eight

I woke groggy, with the guest bedroom spinning as I lay still in bed.

My mouth felt and tasted like a badger had crawled inside and died, and my headache pounded like a high school band at homecoming.

I could have slept the rest of the day, but I didn’t know if the demons would let me. I’d thought they hadn’t cared much about my comings and goings. I was just a ‘maid’, after all.

Maybe Stolas really did want my magic. It wouldn’t be the first time in history.

Stolas had been pretty pissed about my little outing, even though, deep down, I probably wasn’t going to go too far for very long. I’d gone to a bar, for Pete’s sake. I hadn’t pried off my fingernails trying to climb the walls out of the Red City.

Someone cleared their throat, and I realized why I’d woken up. Murmur stood at the bottom of the bed, a glass of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other.

He eyed me with a mix of pity and exasperation. “Your headache is caused by dehydration.” He gestured to the water.

I nodded, remaining still as he rounded the bed and put the glass on the nightstand. I expected the demon to make excuses and walk away, but Murmur sat down. His black eyes watching me like a gun about to misfire.

I reached out and drained half the glass, holding my hands out for the pills before I finished the water. I eyed Murmur expectantly, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

Maybe he’d try and explain why he’d gone to Lust to smoke demon blood and get high. I was used to it. People in prison did all sorts of things for any kind of buzz.

Honestly, I didn’t care what Murmur did and why.

I hadn’t made many friends since coming to Red City.

I’d pissed Stolas off.

I’d eaten all Malphas’s cheese.

And I’d kicked Caim in the balls.

It was only a matter of time before I managed to rile up Murmur, too.

My mom always used to say I had a particular way of pushing just the right buttons.

Murmur cleared my throat. “I want to tell you a story.”

My brow pinched, and I cocked my head to the side. Ok ...

“Have you heard about the Devil? The angels falling. Hell’s creation?” Murmur asked, smiling apologetically when he realized I couldn’t answer, at least not with my voice.

I shrugged because everyone knew that Lucifer had betrayed God. He’d fallen from heaven and taken over Hell—as judge, jury, and executioner. The devil was the Big Bad. Everyone knew who he was.

Red horns, forked tail, hard on for torturing sinners. That kind of thing.

No one had seen the devil, not even after the golden gates of Hell had opened—but that didn’t mean he didn’t exist.

Murmur knitted his fingers together, his heavy brow furrowed as he searched for words. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“ How did you meet Stolas? Caim? Malphas ?” I signed before lowering my hands, my chest burning with frustration.

Murmur bit back a smile. “Caim gave me the gift of understanding in exchange for television privileges. He gets to pick the movie on movie night for three weeks in a row.”

I laughed, stifling the sound with my hands. “The gift of understanding?”

“One of Caim’s abilities, though he cannot use it often.” Murmur rubbed the grain of his short hair. “You should feel sorry for me.” Murmur rolled his eyes. “That demon won’t stop going on about the Terrifier series. It’s utterly terrible, but he loves it.”

I had no idea what that was.

“ That’s what Caim did to Stolas last night ?” I asked. “ Caim made you pay for the knowledge but not him .”

Murmur rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. “Caim and Stolas have a complicated relationship.”

From what I'd seen, Caim seemed to irritate the heck out of Stolas, but I remained silent.

Murmur cleared his throat, getting back to his story. I knitted my fingers together and sat on my hands, restraining the urge to sign.

“We were angels,” Murmur stated plainly, his mirth dripping away, leaving cold, hard facts. “Stolas, Caim, Malphas and I. Not high enough up the food chain to rub shoulders with God, but we had a purpose. We gifted knowledge to those who summoned us. We hoarded books, scrolls, wisdom.”

“ Angels .” I signed, repeating his words.

“Then we fell.” He shrugged. “Lucifer had dominion over us. Kind of like a department boss. When God kicked him out of heaven, we got swept up with the lay-offs and dumped in Hell along with the other angels that joined his rebellion.”

“ How long ago was this ?”

“Before humans had the concept of fire.” Murmur shifted, sitting down on the bed. I moved my legs so he could get comfortable.

“ Fallen angels. Demons ?” I clarified. The sign for demon was kind of like air quotes on either side of the head, forming horns. Demon, devil, and evil all melded into one word, but I hoped Murmur understood my intent. I didn’t think he had suddenly turned evil by falling to hell, just that he had become a demon by definition of the word.

There really needed to be a better ASL word for ‘ demon.’ Mainly because I was quickly learning that demons weren’t as evil as I’d first thought.

Maybe.

“Lucifer didn’t know what to do with us,” Murmur explained. “We weren’t devout to his cause, like Abaddon, Lilith, or the other Sovereign of Hell. Stolas and the others, myself included, didn’t want to fight—and that’s all it was initially. Pride is its own sin, but it shares the same circle as Treachery in Hell. It didn’t used to, but there was a war. Lucifer killed the ruler of Pride and took his kingdom for himself, making the First Circle. We were punished for our insolence. For refusing to take up arms against the Iblis. We were turned into stone statues of Betrayers and placed in Lucifer’s garden for all to see. Stolas. Caim. Malphas and I.”

“ For how long ?”

“How long is a piece of string?” Murmur shook his head. “To be honest, we don’t know. A few thousand years? The stone broke around us when the devil left this world, but Hell spat us out when the golden gates opened. We had been stone too long and couldn’t access Hell’s magic anymore.”

“ Why are you telling me all this ?”

“Because you are an outsider.” Murmur held my gaze. “Just like us.”

Murmur’s story spun in my head.

God. Lucifer. Hell. Pride.

I knew snippets of demonic history; most people did. When the golden gates of Hell had opened, people had sucked up every piece of gossip about demons to be found. I remembered the day the US government and the demons signed the treaty, and the Red Cities were born. I’d been a child at the time. Coddled and shielded from the true nature of demons.

I’d played ‘demon catchers’ at recess, laughing as children ran from me with hooked fingers as claws. Blissfully unaware of the realities of demons.

Demons were known for a love of shiny things. For making deals and for having vast and impossible magic.

I wanted to trust the demons. Caim, Stolas, Malphas and Murmur. After all, what choice did I have?

I could try to escape them and find another home in the human district, but I couldn’t leave the city. Would I even want to? Knowing that the justice system had denied my appeal, yet again, and I’d go to death row—if they didn’t shoot me on sight.

Just like us . Murmur had said.

Maybe we were more alike than I’d first thought. My kind, the Bean Sídhe, had run from the Aos Sí—the home of the Fae—just like Stolas and the others had left Hell behind.

They’d told me I’d been bought to be a maid. To clean up after them.

Even if it was a lie, that was what I would do.

With a new goal, I strode out of my room and to the kitchen to gather cleaning supplies.

I’d half expected Malphas to be there, guarding the fridge or building some fancy charcuterie board with a face filled with thunder, but I was alone.

The demons had disappeared once again. Leaving me in the house.

Pure-blooded demons didn’t sleep, so I knew they weren’t in the house. The single story had paper-thin walls; I would have heard a TV or someone moving about.

I ate a bunch of grapes—the only fruit I’d eaten in days- and gathered my cleaning supplies, even if the demons only had dish soap and bleach. I could make it work. In prison, I’d had to clean my cell with sanitary pads.

There wasn’t much to clean. I’d taken the layer of dust from the furniture and corners a couple of days ago, and not enough time had passed for more to gather. Malphas kept the kitchen clean. The dishwasher was empty, and the fridge was pristine inside.

I vacuumed the rooms but felt wholly inadequate. What kind of demons cleaned up after themselves?

Growing up, my mom had constantly nagged me about my cleanliness. She’d often joked about the trail of old coffee mugs and chip packets I left around the house like Hansel and Gretel trying to find their way through the forest.

I stuck to the common areas, but I felt useless. I needed to clean something, not because of OCD or a desire to feel useful, but purely out of spite.

If the demons had bought me to clean, I was going to damn well clean!

I let myself into the first room at the end of the hallway, opposite the guest bedroom. I’d never seen any of my roommates coming or going from the doors, but at first glance, I would have had to guess that the room belonged to Caim.

Mainly because of the silk ropes draped over the boxy metal bedframe, which was built almost like a four-poster cage.

My cheeks burned, but I kept my eyes down as I picked up the clothes off the floor and stuffed them into the nearest grocery store bag. The mess was confined to their rooms; it seemed they weren’t just psycho-clean demons with a penchant for organization.

I collected Caim’s laundry and put on a load before I snuck back in to poke around. I wouldn’t lie and say I had innocent intentions—I wanted to find something. Blackmail dirt. I needed knowledge about potential weaknesses like a vampire/stakes situation or a journal detailing how they planned to sacrifice me at the next full moon.

I wanted to know their motivations. Their inner workings.

Most of all, I wanted to know why four demons had bought a silent human and then hadn’t even bothered to collar me and make me their love slave.

Judging by the silk scarves on Caim’s headboard, the idea would probably appeal to him.

I wouldn’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about it. I’d been in prison for ten years. I wasn’t a virgin by any means—sex was great leverage to get things you want—but my body had changed. I wasn’t a thin teenager anymore with perky boobs. I was a grown woman with stretch marks and a bit of a belly. Which I often told myself I could get rid of if I tried.

I checked his drawers, but when I failed to find the nuclear codes or a detailed treasure map, I left Caim’s room.

He would already know I’d been in there—he didn’t need to know I’d seen his lubricant drawer in all its glory or the dildo that I could only describe as... Demonic .

The demons came home as the sun began to set. Though they greeted me as they filtered into the kitchen looking worse for wear, they failed to address the elephant in the room--their absence.

I wanted to know. Did they have jobs? A regular 9 to 5.

Murmur had said they were no longer connected to Hell, but I had no idea what that meant .

I had so many questions, but Murmur had already humored me.

At least I had an answer to the statue question.

I worried that if I started asking too many questions, I’d be gone faster than I could sign ‘ Bye !’.

“I want ravioli,” Malphas said by way of greeting.

I’d searched the kitchen on my cleaning journey that morning and hadn’t found any tinned ravioli in the cupboard. I would have clocked it because, besides cheese, my next biggest weakness was pasta. Which my mother had found hilarious, considering our Irish roots.

I had no idea if Malphas had made a deal with Caim for ASL or if he would even want to speak to me, so I remained silent.

Malphas pulled out a weird crank, which I identified as a homemade pasta machine. Homemade pasta .

Malphas caught my look. “Ravioli okay with you?”

I couldn’t nod fast enough.

“I don’t know why you insist on eating,” Stolas grumbled as he sat at the kitchen island. “We may not be what we once were, but we don’t need to eat. Not like...” Stolas caught my eye, his lips pressing together as he bit back whatever word he planned to use.

Humans or animals would have been my guess.

Searching for a way to cut the tension, I lifted my hands and signed.

“ How was your day? ”

Caim, who had been curiously silent until that point, burst out laughing. He pressed his fist to his mouth and bent over, seemingly unable to speak because of his hilarity.

“Stolas was put in a cage .” Malphas snapped as he pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. “It’s not funny. It could have happened to any of us. You, me... Even Murmur.”

“I like a good cage.” Caim waggled his brows.

My cheeks warmed, and Caim's eyes darkened as they met mine.

I couldn’t get those silk scarves out of my head.

I shook my head to clear it. “ A cage ?”

“I’m fine,” Stolas assured the group. “Once I had opposable thumbs again, it was fairly straightforward to get out.”

“ What situation ?” I asked. “ Why were you even in a cage to begin with ?”

Stolas sighed. The sound was heavy with burden. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Caim reached for the fruit on the counter, plucking one of the ripe apples from the pile. He rolled the red apple between his hands. “I think Maddie should know.”

Murmur held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, I wanted to tell her.”

I resisted the urge to put up my hands to remind them I was still there.

Forgotten.

Stolas pinched his brow but said nothing.

Malphas shut the fridge, turning to the others. “You brought Maddie into this mess.” He pointed to Stolas. “You brought her back when she tried to leave.” He pointed at Caim. “And you told her demonic secrets that most of the human government would kill to know.”

“I told her about Lucifer,” Murmur growled.

Malphas narrowed his eyes. “You confirmed that fucker even exists. Or, existed.”

I frowned, digesting his words.

“Yeah, he’s dead,” Malphas told me. “I don’t know if Murmur mentioned that.”

Stolas, who until that moment had remained silent with his hand on his brow, stood up. Slamming his palms on the countertop. “ENOUGH!” He roared, losing his cool for the first time since I had seen him. Stolas adjusted the lapel of his jacket, though nothing was out of place. Stolas turned to me; his endless black eyes weren’t just black anymore. I saw stars swirling like a galaxy of deep, dark colors. He blinked, and the illusion disappeared.

When he spoke, he signed. “ Madeleine. You have agency here, even if you were ‘bought’ at the auction. We have no intention of imprisoning you. Or using you for nefarious purposes. ”

Stolas looked like someone had pissed in his Cheerios. Whatever he was going to say next wasn’t good.

“ I chose you because I saw myself in you. You might not have realized it, but you likely would not have survived the night if you had not been bought that evening. Many of the humans in the Red City are owned by demons and the ones that don’t have a job or purpose. Human prisoners are not allowed to roam if they fail at auction .” Stolas looked away.

The lump in my throat grew so large that it hurt to breathe. Though the threat of my own death had hung over me since Dr Holdsworth had told me about my failed appeal, it had been easy to ignore.

I had been seconds away from being tossed, and Stolas had saved me.

He could be lying, trying to foster some kind of gratitude or sense of loyalty, but somehow, I didn’t think he was.

Stolas exhaled, the sound shaky. “I was selfish bringing you here, even for the right reasons. I brought you into our home without consulting my brothers. I abandoned you to this empty, temporary house while I...”

Murmur stepped up, slapping Stolas on the shoulder. “Madeleine gets it.” Murmur shot me a pointed look, and though I was still in shock from seeing Stolas’s armor crack, I nodded.

Malphas went to the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of wine. He placed it on the countertop and silently fetched glasses. “We’re traitors,” Malphas announced, not looking at me as he put the glasses next to the wine bottle. “We’re working for the human government to bring down a trafficking ring in the Red City. We also have a deal with Asmodeus, Queen of Lust. If we can find dirt on any of the big players in the city, she’ll help us.” He popped the cork and poured a glass, pushing it towards Stolas. “You know, so we don’t die .”

Because of their broken connection to Hell, it was all starting to make sense.

Stolas grabbed the glass and drained it in one go.

“ I’m guessing you were investigating someone and got trapped in a cage while possibly breaking and entering ?” I signed.

Stolas nodded, grabbing the bottle and pouring more wine. “A warehouse. Someone is shipping large amounts of something out of the city. It was labeled as ‘sugar’ on the manifest, but we don’t grow sugarcane in the city. Northern California isn’t the right environment for it.”

Sugar ? The drug?

I didn’t know if there was a connection there.

I sympathized with Stolas, Caim, Malphas, and Murmur. Hell had abandoned them and cut them off from the blanket of power. I didn’t know their reasons for working with the human government; it wasn’t my business.

A plan began to form in my mind, the kind of odd manipulation that assured me I wasn’t a good person.

I really wasn’t a good person.

If Stolas and the others were helping the government , and if I helped them , maybe I could get someone to repeal my sentence. Throw my case out altogether. It was a lot of maybes, but I’d lost hope a long time ago, and the spark that began to fire in my belly made me feel alive for the first time in years .