“I am a Prince of Hell now,” Belial said. “And I’ve come to tell you that my offer still stands, Jack. Even with all that mess on your skin.”
Pete looked between them, arms folded over the swell of her stomach. “What offer, Jack?”
“He didn’t tell you. Shocking, that,” Belial said. “But I will—I offered your boy here a chance to sit at my table, be at my side. He doesn’t have to die and be reborn or anything tacky and Biblical of that sort. All he has to do is say yes.” Belial grinned at Jack. “No lies. No tricks.”
“But a bargain,” Jack told him. “Another fucking axe to dangle above me neck.”
“Not a bargain,” Belial said. “An agreement. An alliance, between a general and a valued soldier. And what a soldier you’d make, Jack. You’d never have to worried about any of this…” he gestured through the bubbly glass of the loo window, out across the chimney pots and post-war box flats of Whitechapel. “None of the politics, none of the bullshit. Nobody coming after you because they fancy you’re the cause of their little problems. You’d be protected.”
“But he’d be in Hell,” Pete said.
Belial cocked his head. “I would think you’d be in favor of this. You do have the baby to consider. This is a dangerous world for a child, Petunia. You of all people know that.”
Pete curled her fists into tight knots. “Get out. Before I kick the shite out of you and make you eat it.”
Belial turned back to Jack. “What do you say, Winter? Right hand of the devil. It really is the better choice. Better than anything the Hag is going to offer you.” He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Think it over. Don’t say no just to be a cunt. I want you, Jack. Hell wants you. What do you say?”
Jack moved the demon’s hand off him, along with the slimy essence that brushed against his sight. “I say…” Belial’s offer made sense. The Morrigan would ask him to do something, sooner or later, even worse than to allow Nergal to be released into the world. And he honestly wasn’t sure he could say no. But to be in Hell, voluntarily. To be a servant of Belial, willingly. That wasn’t Jack—not before the bargain, not during his smack days, not now, and not fucking ever.
“You say yes, lad,” Belial prompted. “Easiest word in the language.”
“Jack…” Pete said, but he brushed against the back of her hand with his fingers and quieted her.
“Go fuck yourself,” he told Belial. “And you can tell your two bum-buddies down there in the City I said the same.”
Belial’s mouth turned down. “Bad choice, Jackie. Bad, bad choice.”
“But it is my choice,” Jack said. “I did what you asked. I sent Abbadon and his freaks back to their prison. You’ve no claim on either of us any longer, so kindly get the fuck out.”
Belial straightened his cuffs and stepped around Pete. “Fine. I’ll see myself out. And Jack?” The demon pointed one black-tipped finger at him. “You’re a bloody idiot.”
Jack stayed still until the door slammed, then let out the breath he’d been holding until it burned. “Shit. I hate it when he does that.”
Pete sat on the edge of the tub. “That was bad, wasn’t it? Saying no to him?”
“Probably come back and bite my arse, yeah,” Jack said. He sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Pete was warm and smelled faintly of cocoa butter. He pressed his face against her hair.
“What if we fuck this up?” Pete murmured. “Like, beyond repair? What if the kid gets an ASBO and starts lighting people’s pets on fire?”
“We won’t,” Jack said, feeling no conviction whatsoever.
“Maybe you should have said yes,” Pete whispered. “It’s the only way we could be sure…”
“No,” Jack said. “Belial would find some way to put one over on me, and I’d end up even worse off.”
“At least you’re learning,” Pete said.
“Trying,” Jack said. “Not doing a fantastic job.”
“It’s all right,” Pete said, and kissed his cheek before resuming her position. “We’ll figure something out.”
Jack let his eyes close, to just be still for one moment. Soon enough he’d have to move, find them a place to go where the local mages and sorcerers weren’t howling for his blood and freaks weren’t trying to sell their souls to ancient demons, while other freaks optioned the movie rights. Soon. But right now, he could be with Pete, and that was worth anything Belial could have offered him, true bargain or not.
“Yeah,” he said to Pete. “I think we’ve sorted it.”
“We’ll move to the country, I’ll get fat and pop out six more kiddies, and you can take up sheep farming,” Pete said.
“Or I could sit in front of the telly and shout at you the baby needs changing,” Jack said. “And to fetch me another lager.”
“Or I could smack you in the head,” Pete said.
“All of the above?” Jack suggested. “Or none.”
“I don’t know,” Pete said. “And that’s all right, Jack. Really. I don’t expect you to have it all sorted this second.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m just glad you’re not leaving.”
“Not for anything,” Jack said. “And I mean that, Pete.”
“I know you do,” Pete said softly. Jack pressed his lips against her hair.
“That’s all that matters, then.”
St. Martin’s Paperbacks Titles by
CAITLIN KITTREDGE
