Devil (The Halloween Boys, #4)

by Kat Blackthorne

“You said once that Stevie Nicks was one of the greatest lyricists of all time, didn’t you?” The devil refilled my wine, and I picked at long furls of grass, trying and failing to ignore him. I racked my brain, wondering how he’d known that. “I said that to Ames the first time I met him.” “Yes, quite right. Do you still believe it true?” “Yes, why?” “Leather and Lace” by Stevie Nicks and Don Henley played around us as if there were stereos in the trees. Another display of my picnic date’s power. I narrowed my gaze and bit into a purple grape. “Is this really hell?” “Indeed, it is.” “Doesn’t look like it.” “Hell is different things for different souls. For you and me, and the residents here, this is our dark paradise.” “And for others?” “For others, hell is more of an internal state than a gruesome destination. Hell is the shadow of self all beings must eventually contend with, in one life or the next.” I took in the patchwork fall foliage and the faint smell of smoke and ash that tainted the otherwise perfect breeze. “And you rule over it all?” “Rule is a very human word, my dear. I am more like a guardian.”