“I guess we do,” I mumbled. Relief flooded me, as much for being able to admit that out loud as for the fact that alongside the library, there was a very convenient dark alley, perfect for conjuring a portal.

I sidestepped into it, heading right to the end, away from the streetlights.

“Time to go home.” I sighed, realising that there would be no rest for me even once we returned to Hell. I had a minimum of a dozen Soul Tokens to manufacture overnight. To placate my monstrous sister.

The portal was slower than ever to expand. Perhaps because of my reluctance to use it. Perhaps because it didn’t head to the destination I so desperately wished it to—the destination that was now forever barred to me.

For the best, I reminded myself, as the portal finally reached its full size, and I stepped towards it.

If I hadn’t been so terribly exhausted, I might have paused when I noticed that the portal edges had a strange, bluish tinge to them instead of the normal magenta.

If my emotions hadn’t been so overwrought, I might have wondered why when I stepped through, it seemed to get brighter rather than darker.

And if my brain hadn’t been filled with regrets about the last twenty-four hours, I might have pondered over the fact that instead of fire and brimstone, the scents that heralded a return to Hell, I smelled that oddly delicious aroma that I’d noticed when the water had fallen from the sky, the evening of Jemma’s first repayment.

But I didn’t do any of those things. I just walked right into the trap that had been laid out for me.

42. He Wasn’t a Mafia Boyfriend

Chapter 42

He Wasn’t a Mafia Boyfriend

Jemma

“For the last time, Jemma! We don’t care about the damned costume!” Esther’s tone was sharp, but her squeezy, tight hug was reassuring. “And don’t even think about having to deal with him to get it back. He sounds like a total dickhead, to be perfectly honest.”

I buried my nose into Luci’s soft fur. She nestled in closer to me. She’d been very snuggly since Saturday, as if she knew just how wrecked I was over it. Perhaps she was a bit wrecked herself. I mean, she clearly had some deep connection with Bub, and now, because of the stupid Hell Hound Daddy and his commitment issues, she’d had to go cold turkey, too.

Nope. I was not going to think about him. I was not going to dwell, or mope, or cry another single tear over him.

Famous last words … a rogue tear pooled in the corner of my eye, and when I blinked, it rolled into Luci’s fur.

Jules pressed a hot cup of tea into my hand, and I set Luci down to go sniff tentatively at Falcor.