What would you trade your soul for?
The answer is simple for Jessa: nothing. Life isn't perfect, but it's pretty good with her best friend Taylor at her side.
But everything changes when the Devil--disguised as an attractive high school girl--comes...
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I'm not quite sure where Lana learned to drive, but we raced out of the city at lightning speed, swerving left and right. She hardly lifted her foot off the gas. Had we not been on our way out of the Underworld, I would have thought Lana was purposely trying to injure us to trap us down there longer.
I stared out the window, watching as the city vanished behind us. The feather duster trees shimmied in the no-ocean sea breeze, and the oil spill river glittered at us as we drove across the bridge. Part of me wanted to slow down and appreciate the view, while the other, more logical part of my brain, reminded me that if we didn't get out of the Underworld in time, I would be admiring this scenery for all of eternity.
Please God, get us out of here, I prayed. My family had never been very religious, and I had always considered myself agnostic: someone who couldn't rule in the presence of a god but couldn't necessarily rule one out either. Now that I had some pretty good evidence He existed, I figured a quick prayer wouldn't hurt. I wasn't sure if He could hear it, and I didn't even know if this God responded to prayer at all, but I said my piece, short and sweet, and hoped He heard it all the same.
We reached the cave within minutes, and Lana left her black convertible parked on a sunny hill. We jogged our way through the torch-lined passageways until we finally reached the river. The boatman was sitting on the dock, leaning against a post and reading an outdated magazine. He looked surprised to see visitors, and then tossed the magazine into the water when Lana stepped into the light.
"Your Majest—" he started, but Lana cut him off.
"Emergency trip to Earth," she said. "And we need to get there as soon as possible. All three of us. Now."
The boatman didn't say anything. He just snapped his finger and the small canoe oscillating behind him on the water transformed into a red speedboat. My jaw dropped.
Lana grinned. "Perfect," she said, stepping onboard.
As the boatman revved up the engine, I asked him why he didn't just leave it as a speedboat all the time.
He smirked at me, holding up a finger. "Number one, mystique. Number two..." He rolled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and flexed a bicep. "How else am I gonna keep these muscles in check? Rowing really works the traps."
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