I’m calling this place the Tardis,” she said, continuing to scan the different locations. “We’re not calling it the Tardis,” I said. Of course, if she knew what it could really do, I’d never change her mind. “Why the hell not?” she asked. “Copyright infringement.

How did you get hired?” “I checked the box on the application that said “descendant” by mistake. I’m dyslexic and I thought it said something else.” “Okay,” I said, thinking that was the worst employment application mistake ever. “And they all believe him to be the true ruler of Fallen?”“All the Mei-Bettys do. They’re, like, obsessed with it. It’s a little like restaurant-of-the-body-snatchers, you know?” “Then why do you work there?” I asked. “Clearly, you figured out something was wrong with them.” “Duh, but it pays well and they provide room and board. I sorta needed the job and a place to stay. It’s got free wifi,” she said, as if that explained everything.

I flinched when his hands lifted, although it was more of a reaction to everything that had been happening to me, not necessarily because he was Death. He stilled. “You’re sad,” he said. “Let me help you.” “There isn’t anything you can do.” “I can comfort you.

I’d like to say it could have been worse. I’m sure lots of people hate their job, or their boss, or the people they work with. I just couldn’t relate to those people. They have options. They can quit their job, move out of town, or drop off the grid. The only option I had was a guaranteed one-way ticket to Hell when I died, and that didn’t include dental.

I grouped my fellow employees into three categories: the plebes, the damned, and the demons.

You came here of your own free will, Claire. I won’t be denied. You’re mine now, and I intend to keep you.

What exactly did you expect me to do? I told The Boss what you said, but he’s not going to budge. Nobody gets dental.

You have your orders,” Mab shouted at the guards. “To the Deeps with her.” The men led me from the great hall, taking me along a series of corridors to the back of the castle, then winding through another long corridor and into a spiraling stairwell that appeared to have no end. We went further and further down until finally it ended so deep in the ground it felt like a grave. My pulse quickened as we reached the bottom. A single dark door lay ahead.

With his nose in my hair, he inhaled deeply before putting a light kiss on my cheek. “Have you come to play?” he asked then kissed me again. “No.” I cringed when he drew my earlobe into his mouth. “I came to help you. That’s all. I swear.” “I’d rather play.

I pulled Thanos in for a kiss, surprising him. I wasn’t sure if it was our bond or the fear this might be my last kiss, but I didn’t hold anything back. I let him in. He took full advantage, plundering my mouth as if I were the last woman on Earth, which could have been a result of him being trapped in a desolate wasteland for the last five hundred years—but I decided not to overthink it.

I eyed the sheriff. “So I better be breathing when He finds me.” “Who the hell are you talking about?” the sheriff blurted. I chuckled. The postman sneered at the sheriff. “She means the Demon King. The Devil. This is a phone from Hell—the real one.

Don’t worry,” I said. “We won’t be having slumber parties and spa days any time soon.” “I quite like spa days.

The blue of winter, the brown of spring, the red of summer, and the fall of green. I seek the place of treasures past. I seek the truth of sand and glass. I call to the wind of seasons past. I bring with me the best of summer. I am the one with whom you bask. Deliver me and complete your task.

She shoved me against the wall, pulling a knife from her belt and pressing it against my throat. “Who are you?” she hissed. I winced as the blade drew a line of blood on my flesh. I considered my options. Queen of the Fallen, no. Enemy to your children, no. “I’m Claire, the Devil’s assistant,” I answered, deciding on the simplest choice.

I headed for my office, but stopped when I saw my laptop on the couch. Sorrel had obviously borrowed it—again—without permission. I grabbed it, wondering what questionable site he’d left on the screen this time and making a mental note to run the anti-virus software. After taking a shower, putting on my pajamas, and fixing an ice cream sundae for dinner—yes, it was one of those days—I sat down at my desk and pulled up the web browser.

I couldn’t just start killing people. That wasn’t really my thing.

Is that true?” The Boss asked Mace. Without even batting an eye, Mace said, “Yes.”“And you agreed?” The Boss questioned. “Of course. Anything for my queen,” he said, holding his glass up to me in a mock toast.