That Old Black Magic - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,78

exclusively for you if I agree to this? Keep the soul energy away from Lucifer?”

“I’m not a demon lord. And your time is ticking away. Just over two minutes left.”

The draw of the gaping chasm of darkness behind him was growing stronger, he felt it like long fingers sliding underneath his skin, like branches growing up over the jagged cement sides and wrapping around his ankles. It would be pointless to try to fight it. It already had him in its clutches, but now it was waiting before yanking him that last bit backward.

But something kept Darrak fighting, hoping for a solution.

A demon who hoped. Sure, that made sense.

What was down there? Would he land somewhere eventually? Is that where the rumor of the torturous pain came from before you were finally gone forever? Who started that rumor if no one had ever survived the plunge? He was in pain right now, but it was still manageable. He’d experienced much worse in his long existence.

“What do you care about, demon?” Theo asked.

Strange question. “Care about?”

“Is it only yourself? In these last minutes, are you only concerned about yourself and your own well-being?”

“It is top of mind.”

“But not completely. If it was, then you’d already have given me your answer. I need you to speak the words, demon. Say you’re willing to devote your future to killing innocent humans in order to save your own skin. Come on, it’ll be totally fun. Any normal demon would have already jumped on this opportunity, and you know it.”

“Can’t it be evil humans?” Darrak hated the catch in his voice as he said it. “Criminals, serial killers, blackhearted assholes with no chance at redemption?”

Theo laughed. “You’re hilarious. Of course not. What value does a black soul have down here? Zero. Just more cannon fodder. The true value in a place of ultimate darkness comes from the smallest infusion of light.”

He wanted to say yes. He did. But something stopped him, something apart from the invisible ropes that now tied him to the Void. Something else wrapped around his chest and squeezed tight.

“Thirty seconds, demon.” Theo crossed his arms.

Thirty seconds to decide his ultimate fate.

That redhead . . . had he really seen her? Was she just a figment of his imagination? Why did he think of her now when he was so close to the end? This was it. If he wasn’t able to wrap his mouth around the word yes—such a simple word considering how much it would mean—then it was all over.

His mind went again to the kids—his first assignment after saving his own sorry neck. It was a deal he once would have taken in a second and not given it another moment’s thought.

But he wasn’t that demon anymore. And he never would be again.

Oh, hell.

“That deal of yours?” Darrak said.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and shove it right up your ass?”

Theo’s lips curved. “Is that your answer? Are you saying no to me?”

A small part of him was screaming, wanting to change his mind while there was still a chance to survive, say anything to get out of this. But a larger part of him knew without any doubt that this was the right thing to do.

The right thing. A demon choosing to do something because it was the right thing to do. Hilarious.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell,” he said firmly. “But that would be a bit moot. My answer is no. Capital N, capital O. And that is my final answer, asshole.”

For emphasis, he gave the grinning entity the finger.

Theo cocked his head. “So it’s true, you have changed.”

Darrak just glowered at him. Then he staggered back a step as the Void’s hold on him tightened another notch.

“One final chance, demon.”

Darrak’s fists clenched. “Blow me.”

“No, thanks.” Theo shrugged. “Okay, I asked three times. You answered three times. It is decided. For the record, I think you should feel really good about yourself. Go you! Buh-bye now.”

The Void’s grip tightened like an iron fist, pulling Darrak backward. He fell to the ground and clawed at the cement. The very edge of the cliff face pushed against his shoe before it broke away, and then he was hanging on to the side of the Void by only his hands, his feet dangling over endless darkness.

So this is how it ends, he thought. Awesome.

Was this really it? Was he willing to give up?

Something kept him holding on. Something with as much of a grip on him as the damn Void