Dancing With the Devil (The Devil #2) by Heather C. Myers Page B
Authors: Heather C. Myers
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the way with your job,” Harleen told her. She glanced around as though she was looking for something. “Where is it though? The restroom?”
Amber led her to a wall before placing her palm flat on the surface of it. Harleen heard a small ‘click’ and a layer of the wall pop up. With wide eyes, she watched as Amber took hold of the handle and pulled it out before waving her hand at Harleen, gesturing as gracefully as she could that she should go first.
Harleen was still surprised as she walked through the door, but her eyes popped when she looked at the actual bathroom. Everything was clean and made of marble. There was a porcelain bathtub, a platinum showerhead, two sinks, a cabinet filled with towels. Harleen had originally thought her bathroom at her new house was amazing, but this was… incredible.
“Harleen?” Amber said when she noticed that Harleen looked around the room. She gestured at the bathtub. “It should be filled in a minute.”
Harleen still couldn’t believe it. No doubt Freud would have a field day with this; she dreamt that she was about to marry some guy she had met a month ago even though she had had a long-term boyfriend.
Oh, and the guy she was supposed to marry also happened to be the devil.
Chapter 2
It was only when Harleen stepped out of the tub after Amber had insisted that she wash and condition her hair while Harleen washed her body did Harleen finally wonder why her dream was so vivid and her senses were so sharp. Could it possibly be that she was awake? That she was supposed to be married to a guy she thought was just some random guy her uncle knew… Wait a minute. Wait a gosh darn minute. All of the money. The new house. The fact that Edgar hung out with Andrew. The fact that Andrew always hung around.
“Oh my God,” Harleen said as she stared at herself in the mirror. Currently sitting down in front of her vanity mirror, she was only in white lingerie as Amber blew her hair dry. “Is this actually real?” The idea was preposterous, but then again, so was Edgar making enough money in two weeks in order to move from some shitty apartment in Costa Mesa to some mansion in Dover Shores. “Am I actually here? Is this actually Hell?!”
“Um, yes,” Amber said, tilting her head up and turning off the hair dryer. “I thought I had already explained that to you, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am,” Harleen said automatically, shaking her head as she stared at herself. Could she really have been so stupid? “But I mean, I didn’t expect this to be true. I thought this was a dream.” Her eyes widened and she straightened, turning her torso so she could look at Amber dead on. “I need to go home, do you understand me? I can’t marry Andrew. I don’t even like Andrew. I didn’t even do anything wrong! I’m not supposed to be in Hell. Hell, I’m not even dead. Oh my God, did he kill me? If the devil kills me, does that mean I automatically go to Hell?”
Amber giggled at how flustered Harleen seemed to be. “The devil – er, Andrew, as you refer to him – didn’t kill you,” she explained with a patience Harleen had yet to learn. “Andrew claimed you. But he couldn’t take you away from wherever you’re from without your consent. He may be the devil, but he can’t tamper with freewill. Didn’t he say anything to you of where you might be going?”
Harleen closed her eyes when she felt Amber start to fiddle with her hair. She tried to remember if Andrew had told her his plans. “Oh my God,” she said, but this time it came out in the form of a groan. “Yes, yes he told me he was going to claim me, that we were going to Hell, but I thought he was kidding. That’s what he always says. That I’m his, that he’s going to…” Harleen’s face dropped as she realized now what that all meant, and she placed her
Amber led her to a wall before placing her palm flat on the surface of it. Harleen heard a small ‘click’ and a layer of the wall pop up. With wide eyes, she watched as Amber took hold of the handle and pulled it out before waving her hand at Harleen, gesturing as gracefully as she could that she should go first.
Harleen was still surprised as she walked through the door, but her eyes popped when she looked at the actual bathroom. Everything was clean and made of marble. There was a porcelain bathtub, a platinum showerhead, two sinks, a cabinet filled with towels. Harleen had originally thought her bathroom at her new house was amazing, but this was… incredible.
“Harleen?” Amber said when she noticed that Harleen looked around the room. She gestured at the bathtub. “It should be filled in a minute.”
Harleen still couldn’t believe it. No doubt Freud would have a field day with this; she dreamt that she was about to marry some guy she had met a month ago even though she had had a long-term boyfriend.
Oh, and the guy she was supposed to marry also happened to be the devil.
Chapter 2
It was only when Harleen stepped out of the tub after Amber had insisted that she wash and condition her hair while Harleen washed her body did Harleen finally wonder why her dream was so vivid and her senses were so sharp. Could it possibly be that she was awake? That she was supposed to be married to a guy she thought was just some random guy her uncle knew… Wait a minute. Wait a gosh darn minute. All of the money. The new house. The fact that Edgar hung out with Andrew. The fact that Andrew always hung around.
“Oh my God,” Harleen said as she stared at herself in the mirror. Currently sitting down in front of her vanity mirror, she was only in white lingerie as Amber blew her hair dry. “Is this actually real?” The idea was preposterous, but then again, so was Edgar making enough money in two weeks in order to move from some shitty apartment in Costa Mesa to some mansion in Dover Shores. “Am I actually here? Is this actually Hell?!”
“Um, yes,” Amber said, tilting her head up and turning off the hair dryer. “I thought I had already explained that to you, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am,” Harleen said automatically, shaking her head as she stared at herself. Could she really have been so stupid? “But I mean, I didn’t expect this to be true. I thought this was a dream.” Her eyes widened and she straightened, turning her torso so she could look at Amber dead on. “I need to go home, do you understand me? I can’t marry Andrew. I don’t even like Andrew. I didn’t even do anything wrong! I’m not supposed to be in Hell. Hell, I’m not even dead. Oh my God, did he kill me? If the devil kills me, does that mean I automatically go to Hell?”
Amber giggled at how flustered Harleen seemed to be. “The devil – er, Andrew, as you refer to him – didn’t kill you,” she explained with a patience Harleen had yet to learn. “Andrew claimed you. But he couldn’t take you away from wherever you’re from without your consent. He may be the devil, but he can’t tamper with freewill. Didn’t he say anything to you of where you might be going?”
Harleen closed her eyes when she felt Amber start to fiddle with her hair. She tried to remember if Andrew had told her his plans. “Oh my God,” she said, but this time it came out in the form of a groan. “Yes, yes he told me he was going to claim me, that we were going to Hell, but I thought he was kidding. That’s what he always says. That I’m his, that he’s going to…” Harleen’s face dropped as she realized now what that all meant, and she placed her
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