Sofia practically vibrated in her chair, even though she was frozen to the spot. She searched Wrath’s gaze, and he displayed everything he wanted her to know on his face. That he loved her. That everything would be okay—even though it wasn’t.
“If I agree, you’ll let him live?” Sofia asked brokenly, and Wrath cursed.
“Sofia, don’t—”
Pandora pressed the blade deeper into his skin, cutting off his words.
“I might be persuaded,” she responded.
Wrath knew it was a lie. He tried to shake his head, but one of the other demons reached up and fisted their hand in his hair, holding him still.
Pandora stepped away, her grip going lax on the blade. “Agree to be the host or he dies,” she commanded.
Sofia grit her teeth together, her gaze flickering from Wrath to Pandora and back again.
“I love you,” Wrath called out. “But don’t do it. I don’t care what happens to—”
“But I do!” she cried, interrupting him. “I love you so much. That’s why…” She released a ragged breath. “I’ll do it. I agree to be the host. I’ll host the demons.”
Her consent activated the spell, and the sigils around her chair lit up fiery red from the color of her blood. An invisible wind whipped through the room, sending her hair flying around her face.
Wrath slumped between the two demons. No!
“Thank you, Sofia, my dear. I appreciate your cooperation,” Pandora yelled out sweetly. Too chipper.
Wrath’s heart fell to his stomach as Pandora tightened her grip on the blade and turned to him. “Guess I won’t need you anymore,” she said darkly.
Wrath darted his gaze to Sofia, taking in everything he could as the blade swung in his direction.
She opened her mouth, released an ear-piercing scream, and then—
A bite of agony, a split second of pain, and then everything went dark.
HOPE
In the kitchen, Hope did his best to construct some form of food. Something edible for Daria to consume. But the silence of the house around them was almost too much. Truth wasn’t banging around the kitchen while playing music. Misery wasn’t poking fun at him or battling Betrayal over some board game they’d found in the closet.
Persy and Pain weren’t being so cute he wanted to vomit, and it was just…
Empty.
He hated it.
Death and Betrayal were too quiet, and so was Daria. She hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words since the curse had been activated. Since the others had disappeared. The only question was, why didn’t it take him? Or Death or Betrayal? And were there others still free?
How had Pandora forced Sofia to cooperate? His heart ached at the thought, and he tried not to think about what Pandora had done to make Sofia agree to host, not after everything she’d been through.
He plated the grilled cheese—a five-star meal for certain—and turned to place them on the bar. At first, it didn’t even seem as if Daria saw him as he slid a plate in front of her. With her head propped on a hand, she was staring off into space.
He didn’t have to study her too hard to realize what was wrong. He sensed her hopelessness. As if he’d looked up at the night sky only for all the stars to be gone.
Slowly, so as not to startle her, Hope lifted his hand and brushed a finger over the back of her wrist.
“Daria?” he asked quietly.
At his touch, she came to life, blinking quickly and shaking her head. “Hope, what—oh, you made lunch. Thank you,” she offered, though there wasn’t much emotion in her words, in her tone.
“You should eat something,” he said, and turned the plate just a smidge, enough to bring her attention to it. It was so late it was more like an early dinner, but he didn’t correct her.
“Okay,” she responded. She lifted the sandwich and took a bite, but Hope wasn’t content until he watched her swallow.
Turning, he grabbed a glass from the drying rack and poured water into it before placing that on the bar beside her. “And hydrate.”
Her lips twitched the slightest bit, and it was enough to make his heart swell. “Thank you,” she offered again.
With a simple nod, he left her there in peace and returned to the garage.
Cadmon was still tied up, still grumbling to absolutely no one as he sat alone in the empty room.
“Who’s there?” he called out, trying to turn and see the door. “Oh, it’s Hope, right? Are you guys ever going to untie me? I’ve already told you I’m not a threat. We’re on the same team, you know?”
“I know. Thankfully Truth was here long enough to make sure you didn’t have any ulterior motives. But before we just let you go running around all willy-nilly, where is this blade and how do you suggest we get it?”
“I know you’re going to think I’m lying, but the blade is at the Brighton Museum of History, in the Unknown Artifacts exhibit. Security is tight, but I think it’s doable. Plus, Daria is the daughter of Chaos, right? She can probably get in and out in no time.”
The museum was an hour away.
So what—now we have to plan a heist? Can’t anything ever be easy?
Hope took a deep breath, pulling from within himself to find peace and calmness and hope, fickle as it was. He needed it to stay positive. To stay… in the moment.
It would be so easy to just give into the opposite, to just wallow in the hopelessness tugging at the back of his mind. It wanted him to give in, wanted him to feel the sharp edge of the double-sided blade.
But he refused. He had Daria to take care of. Now that the others were gone, she was going to need him more than ever.
Keeping a tight leash on the negative sides of his emotions, he tucked them away and vowed not to give in.
“So we need to plan a heist, basically,” he guessed.
Cadmon shrugged, though the movement was deterred by the ropes.
“We can’t let you go, sorry. We can’t trust that you won’t run away, and we need you.”
He rolled his eyes. “If you think I would skip out on the chance to help you defeat Pandora, you’re extremely wrong. But whatever. Do what you have to. Can I have something to drink at least?”
Hope gave him a sharp nod and returned to the kitchen. Daria’s plate was empty, sitting in the drying rack of the sink, but she was nowhere to be found.
Hope grabbed a glass of water, flicked a straw in, and returned to the garage. Once Cadmon had swallowed a few sips, he sat the glass down and left him alone. The ropes were tight and secure, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Hope had more important things to do, like make sure Daria was okay.
His steps were loud in the house, or at least it seemed that way. Normally, he wouldn’t be able to hear such a thing, not over the multitude of conversations drifting through the place. On his first trek through, he didn’t find anything, not even Betrayal or Death, and a pang of worry pierced him.
But as he entered the kitchen again, movement beyond the French doors caught his attention. With a sigh of relief, he tugged open the door and found all three of them sitting on the porch.
“Hey,” he murmured softly. “You guys worried me.”
“Sorry,” Daria replied quietly. “Come sit.”