God whimpered, clawing pathetically at my arm. I ignored her.

“Their souls will be very nourishing,” I reasoned, keeping my eyes fixed on Hellen. I couldn’t look at Father. He deserved this fate for so many reasons, but the only one that stuck in my head was the broken shell of Mr Bliss’s soul. A man who had only wanted to keep a gang off the streets. And protect his little girl.

My girl …

And God … I didn’t even know what she’d done in Heaven, but if even her archangels were willing to support a revolution against her, it must have been abhorrent.

“So, I trade the souls of … two traitors to the Soul Realms,” Hellen mused, her lips curling, “to the Pit demons, with a promise that my brother and I are working together to ensure a steady flow of souls will return to them. And in exchange, I simply demand their fealty to me?”

Her face looked positively delighted at the prospect. My stomach swirled, but I reminded myself that for this to work, she needed to be placated. And she would serve the realm faithfully.

“You will be the most terrifying Lucifer ever to rule Hell,” I assured her. “They will never question a female’s right to the throne again.”

Hellen’s eyes narrowed. “And what do you get out of this?” she demanded.

“As the Queen of Hell, you promise that henceforth, no demon of Hell will attempt to enter the Human Realm or to reap souls from it.” I swallowed. “And Jemma Bliss is never to be touched by a demon again.”

“Present company excepted, I assume?” Hellen rolled her eyes. “You and your little human. I suppose I can trust you based on that alone. I know you will do anything to keep her safe—even break her fragile human heart.”

My chest jolted with pain at the reminder of what I had done to keep Jemma safe. Unsuccessfully.

Just another thing to atone for, SJ.

Hellen eyed Father, who crouched miserably at her feet, then turned her disdainful gaze to the blithering, trembling wreck clinging to my arm. “Alright. I agree. On the proviso that the demons accept me. If they do not …” Her eyes darkened with vicious promise. “All bets are off.”

“Understood,” I said hurriedly, shoving God to the floor in front of me. I hoped that I knew the Pit demons well enough to bet Jemma’s safety on my plan.

“Simeon!” God screeched. “You cannot truly mean to⁠—”

I eyed her coldly. “Someone very recently told me that when it is for the greater good, sometimes a wicked deed must be excused.”

Her eyes bulged, and she scrabbled frantically, trying to get to her feet. I watched tensely as Hellen flicked her wrist, and her winds pinned God to the stone floor, unable to move anything except her mouth and her eyeballs.

“No …” she panted. “No, please!”

Both Hellen and I ignored her.