FiendPay: Satan the Second, Crown Prince of Hell, formally requests the presence of Miss Jemma Bliss at the Mephistopheles’ Day Ball, Friday 13th September, in the Throne Room of Castle Inferno, Hell.

FiendPay: A portal will be opened at 7pm sharp from the living room of Jemma Bliss’s apartment directly to the Throne Room.

FiendPay: There is no RSVP. Attendance is non-negotiable. This is considered your third FiendPay task. You must remain at the ball until the whim of The Crown Prince deems you are free to leave.

FiendPay: Dress Code: Slutty Demoness

I read the message aloud to a gaping Ezra and Humphrey, my fingers fumbling the phone.

“I … I don’t know how to feel about this,” Ezra eventually mumbled.

“You and me both!” I gasped, pressing a palm to my hammering heart. A ball. With SJ … but also the rest of the demons of Hell.

“How am I not going to stand out like a sore thumb?” I demanded. “Everyone will know I’m human straight away! I’ll likely be dragged off to be tortured by a pack of demons!”

Humphrey shook his head. “SJ won’t let that happen to you. And besides, if you read the dress code like a clue, he’s telling you exactly what you need to do.”

“Slutty demoness? Like, a little red dress and a headband with horns on it?”

My phone sparked, flying out of my hand.

FiendPay: Just so you know, demonesses don’t have horns … but other than that, you have seen The Crown Prince in all his devilish glory …

I peered around the room suspiciously. “Is he … SJ, are you spying on us?”

There was no response.

“I think maybe I’ve had a bit too much sangria,” I said, pushing my cup away.

32. Lovesick for Jemma Bliss

Chapter 32

Lovesick for Jemma Bliss

SJ

The Hounds were behaving oddly. They’d spent the last several days whispering between themselves, and when I caught them in the act, they immediately engaged in what they’d apparently decided was ‘acting normally’. It was happening so often that I was starting to wonder if Beezle was self-pleasuring and if Bub maybe did truly have parasites.

Hellen was also behaving oddly. When she wasn’t acting as a silent and somewhat surreptitious shadow—which I’d decided I hated more than her openly following me while scolding me for my lack of interest in the wellbeing of our kingdom—she was sitting quietly, as if deep in thought. A deep-in-thought Hellen was not a good thing.

While we were at it, for badness’ sake, I was behaving oddly, too.

I’d never willingly, or voluntarily spent this much time in the presence of my father since I was about five, and realised that I found his company utterly vapid.