Bad Company (Seven Deadly Sins #1) ✅ Completed

Prologue: You Sucked Her Into What?

Right now…

“What did you do?” Dante asked. His voice contained an interesting blend of alarm and mild shock. He stepped over the wreckage of the shop floor as the door of the emporium closed behind him. His head moved from side to side, taking inventory of all the damage I’d caused trying to keep from becoming a barbequed-teen-kabob. It really was pretty bad – somewhere between holy crap and WTF territory. 

I swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump that had gathered in my throat. He was probably going to be a little peeved at me considering what I'd just done to his boss.

"Uh, I sort of sucked Aunt Celeste into that painting.” My eyes cut over to said painting. It was still lying where I’d dropped it face down on the floor among most of store’s broken inventory.

“You what?” Dante yelled, making me jump a little.

I knew it! I watched his face turn an alarming shade of purple. Dante looked about one beat away from throttling me over the head with something blunt and trauma inducing. Considering I’d just spent the last ten minutes trying to keep my skin from being fried like a particularly large piece of chicken, I wasn’t entirely thrilled with his lack of concern for my well being.

“She was trying to kill me!” I snapped. “So, I-I…it was self-defense, dammit!”

"So you sucked her into the Monet?” he asked incredulous.

“Damn straight I did! It was either me or her, Dante. Excuse me for my fight or die instinct,” I snorted. Since when was self-defense not a valid enough reason to send an evil whack-job into impressionistic hell? At least the Monet was halfway decent – I could’ve just as easily sent in her into the Dali or the M.C. Escher instead.  I mean really, that kind of art is fine for your wall but not a place you ever want to live in.  Or be uncontrollably sucked into, whichever.

Dante took a deep breath, his hands forming into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He looked like he was trying to calm himself down so he didn’t accidentally kill me. I was hoping his self-calming technique was better than my now oil-on-canvas dwelling aunt’s.

“Eliza,” he said, his words coming out low and clipped. “You don’t understand what you’ve done. By imprisoning Celeste you have rendered her incapable of fulfilling the terms of her contract through no fault of her own.”   

Ok, so that last part sounded kind of bad.

“Why does that not sound like a good thing now?” I asked just for clarification. No one could say that I didn’t recognize the pitfalls of jumping to conclusions. 

“Because it isn’t,” he pushed out. “It’s like a get-out-of-jail-free card.” 

Dante was going to need some serious dental work if he kept that whole teeth clenching thing up.

“Whatever, she was trying to kill me. It was classic self-defense,” I sniffed, turning away. I wasn’t entirely sure what my next move should be, but standing around what could be considered a crime scene wasn't exactly the brightest move. There was no telling who might pop in and it wasn’t like I could just explain how I’d managed to suck my evil aunt into an impressionistic haystack.

Dante grabbed my arm and whirled me around to face him. He pulled me up onto my toes until his nose was practically touching mine.

“Eliza, you just single-handedly screwed up everything I’ve been working for decades to stop. On top of that, you’ve also managed to get Celeste off the hook for all her sins, and trust me there were many, while setting yourself on the hook for them instead. Her debt and contract are now yours. Her. Eternal. Contract.” Each word was emphasized with a slight shake of yours truly.

I struggled out of his grip and took a few steps back. “Like hell it is,” I said furious.  

"Hell is exactly what I’m talking about you idiot. If you don’t make Celeste’s soul quota now, you’ll be on the first train there. That means you have to finish collecting your little boyfriend’s soul if you want to avoid that sort of thing.”

What? No. When did the room start spinning? I felt my knees give slightly. “There’s got to be something we can do, right? I mean, it’s a contract! There’s gotta be a loophole or something right?” Every contract had loopholes. Just ask any lawyer for God’s sake – their entire profession revolved around the very concept.

Dante’s face looked grimmer than usual, no easy feat. He nodded slowly as he spoke, “Oh, there’s a loophole alright.”

“Great!” I said, feeling a little better about the whole evil-aunt-sucked-into-a-painting jam I was in. Dante was so doom and gloom all the time – I knew there had to be a way out of everything. “So, what exactly is that?” I asked.   

He crossed his arms across his chest as he spoke, “The usual…you forfeit your eternal soul and take his place in Hell.”

Damn.

This town sucked!  

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**Copyrighted material: Bad Company Copyright © Wendy Nelson 2012 All Rights Reserved. No part of this literary work may be reproduced or used without the written consent from the author.

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