Deals with the Devil (PA #1)

Chapter 21

"I'm on your side, guys!" I yell at the larger-than-life cane toads inching their way toward me. My surroundings have a hazy quality to them, but I swear that the gray metal walls in my peripheral vision are not supposed to be there. 

"Wait, where am I? How did I get here? And why can't I see properly?" Squinting as if that will help anything, I try to make out the muddled lettering on the wall nearest me. SAB? What does that even mean?

The toads take advantage of my distraction to enter my personal space. Without warning, the amphibian at the front of the pack opens its grotesque mouth and spits on me. I rush to wipe the cold liquid off of my face and neck—Satan, don't be poisonous—before being abruptly shaken.

I gasp out, "Please don't eat me! I don't taste good," then realize that I am safely tucked in my bed back in Hell. "Thank the Devil," I wheeze out between heaving breaths. 

Clutching my chest to physically keep my heart from jumping out of it, I realize a few things. One, the upper half of my body is soaking wet. Two, there's an overturned bucket on the bed next to me. And, three, Eli is slumped over the bed with one arm still holding onto said bucket. Her body jostles the bed with the force of her...cries? Does she think I'm dead?

The bright light of the room pierces my eyeballs, adding to the pain that shoots in bursts across my skull. Squinting, this time in real life, I observe through slitted vision as Eli pushes up from the bed and straightens to her full height. In my horizontal position, she towers over me in a way that she hasn't since I hit puberty. She's also noticeably not crying. Her shoulders are shaking with a peal of laughter so intense that no sound of her mirth escapes her lips. At this moment, air is as elusive to her as rational thought is to me.

Still too hungover and groggy to connect any mental dots, I smack her when she starts to turn purple from the lack of oxygen. "You need to breathe, idiot!" My head instantly punishes me for the loud demand by pulsing more intensely, so I lower my voice as I speak again. "Tell me what's going on that's so funny. Also, how did I get here? And, why the Heaven am I wet?"

Elizabeth finally gets ahold of herself long enough to inhale a deep breath and let it out slowly. Calmer now, but still releasing little half-laughs, she says, "You were screaming in your sleep about killer frogs. I literally threw a bucket of ice water all over you—that's how you got wet, by the way—and you still couldn't escape your nightmare about animals whose greatest skill is, like, hopping. I think that's hilarious."

"It was actually about cane toads," I reply, somewhat indignantly. Her raised eyebrows demonstrate how unimpressed she is by the correction, so I add, "They were giant, too. With poisonous skin and they wanted to eat me. I think. We never got that far, so it's hard to say. That's beside the point, though."

"What is the point?"

I aim an accusing finger at her. "You! You woke me up with a bucket of ice water. What possessed you to do that?"

"I wanted to raise money for charity!" At my glare, she corrects herself. "Okay, no, not like that human challenge from years ago. Honestly, it was just a little payback for ditching me at the party last night. Rome and I spent hours looking for you before I ultimately gave up. I ended up on the dance floor by myself, and no one would have a twerk-off competition with me! Well, one of Bael's sons wanted to, but he's creepy and doesn't count. Anyway, you weren't in your bed when I checked last night, then suddenly you're all snug in your blankets this morning. Quite frankly, I think you owe me an explanation."

She's not wrong, but first. "Eli, can you help me up? I'm not the most agile at the moment and I really need to get out of these wet clothes. Then, I want to take whatever hangover remedies the healers can offer. After that, discussion time, I promise."