Hugo’s blue eyes bulged. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Of course you don’t. It’s awful—” Ursula sputtered. “—Not ideal, but you don’t have a choice. The deal was, you gave your soul in exchange for—” She pulled the parchment out of her purse. “What was it you asked for? Fame?”

He swallowed hard, eyes open wide. “For people to hear my music and think it’s amazing.”

She thrust the contract toward him. “Hmmm… Well I guess it only works on a portion of the population. Anyway, you made the deal verbally. And now you get all the French models, Grammys, and green cocktails you can consume until you die. Considering most of the world has to live on $6 a day, you’re getting quite lot. I mean sure, the eternal torment—”

“It’s the soul part that concerns me.” The pink had vanished from his cheeks. “It was just a lark with my mates. I thought it was a fairy story.”

Was she going to have to act as a therapist with all the supplicants? She wasn’t very good at this hand-holding stuff. How was she supposed to convince him this was a good idea? This was an awful idea. And even if he was a knob, she didn’t want him to burn until the end of time. Bloody hell, she wasn’t a psychopath—she definitely wasn’t cut out for this gig. Still, she’d have to put forth the effort if she didn’t want to face slaughter at Emerazel’s hands—or perhaps Kester’s.

She squared her shoulders. “Well, chin up, and all that. Here’s the pen.” She forced a smile onto her face. “Please sign, and everything will be fine… for a while.” She couldn’t bring herself to outright lie about it. She was a terrible liar.

“I’ll have to spend eternity burning in the inferno,” he sputtered.

This tidbit would likely be a bit of a sticking point in these negotiations. “From what I understand, the other option is starting your sentence now, and I’m sure you can see that’s worse. You’re young. Death is a long way off. Unless you refuse to sign, and then it’s a very short way off.”

Hugo’s shoulders hunched. “What do you mean?”

Ursula gazed into his indigo eyes, trying to convey the gravity of the situation. “If you don’t sign, I have to reap your soul now, and then it’s straight to the fires. The torment can start now, or later.” God I don’t want to be doing this.

Hugo swallowed hard, his body trembling.

She depressed the button on the knife and the blade popped out with a snapping noise. She pressed the button again, retracting the blade. Hugo’s eyes bulged.