“Ouch! Not so … grippy!” God quipped, and for a split second, my stomach dropped. It wasn’t going to work. But then the room went oddly, eerily silent, except for a muffled gasp from Raphe.

And I felt it. The black, selfish core of Her, like gnarled roots twisted throughout Her entire being. Her soul.

Her eyes widened, and She struggled against me, but my grip … and whatever strange power I wielded prevented Her from escaping.

“I think your rule is up, God,” I muttered, lifting my other hand. Unlike the last time I’d tried to conjure a portal in this room, the swirling lights appeared swiftly. I tugged her against my body, stepping into the maelstrom. “I think it’s high time we put your soul up for judgment.”

52. The Devil I Know

Chapter 52

The Devil I Know

SJ

“Unhand me, you fiend!” God squawked, all bravado, all control gone. My hand was locked to her shoulder, that same surge of power I’d felt in Heaven tingled in my fingertips, and she fell silent. I stepped out of the portal and directly into Hell’s throne room.

I stumbled to a halt on the lava-stone floor, the scene that met me robbing me of breath. And it wasn’t because Hellen was stealing my air. Although she was there.

Sitting on Father’s throne.

Father was chained like a beast at her feet, his mouth gagged. His eyes bulged when he noticed who I had arrived with, and he shook his head vehemently. Hellen kicked him in the side of the head. He grunted around the gag.

“Oh! Junior, so glad you could make it!” she simpered, crossing her legs and smirking down at me. She toyed with one of the skulls on the armrest. “And you’ve brought a friend!”

I stepped forward, but Hellen raised a hand, the air swirling dangerously around her palm. “Stop right there. I’d like to have a civil conversation with you, little brother, but if you insist on approaching, I’ll have to pin you to the wall.”

“What is going on?” I asked warily. Hellen chuckled darkly, kicking her legs up on Father’s back.

“Well, it appears that my little brother chose his human whore over his kingdom … again. Imagine my shock when I returned to my chambers, expecting to find myself a very tasty meat sack to play with, and instead finding that my plaything had inexplicably escaped, and my own father—the King of Hell, no less, was unconscious on the floor and reeking of the miasma!”

I cursed myself inwardly, locking my expression into impassivity while my thoughts roiled. Was Jemma safe? Had Hellen returned for her while I was distracted in Heaven? God had mentioned time was different up there, could more time have passed here than I was aware of?