Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) by H.D. Smith

to keep it in sight. I rounded the corner, following the truck around the turn. I was losing ground. It was at least a half-mile ahead of me now.
    “No,” I screamed as it disappeared, but I didn’t stop running.
    I headed toward the spot where the truck disappeared. Maybe it was a portal—a way out. Something. As I drew closer, a force pulled me in.
    Please don’t drop me back in Hell, Montana .

Eight
     
    The trip back took only seconds. I was drawn through and propelled out the other side of the hedge.
    “Yes!” I jumped into the air, then immediately slapped my hand over my mouth.
    I waited a minute to make sure I wasn’t heard. I breathed a sigh of relief when no one came bursting around the corner.
    I brushed myself off and took out my phone. Mentally crossing my fingers, I hit the power button. A minute later the home screen appeared. The battery indicator flashed yellow, but at least it was working. Breathing a sigh of relief, I powered off the phone to save the battery and dropped it back into my bag.
    Someone cackled, drawing my attention back to the hedge. The chortle had come from the other side. I took a few steps back, looking in both directions. Crap. The hedge appeared endless. Tilting my head up, I frowned. Climbing over the thirty-plus-foot hedge wasn’t going to happen, and I sure as hell wasn’t walking back through it. There had to be a way around.
    Another burst of laughter pierced the silence. I had to find a way around that didn’t involve going through the hedge, which might drop me back into Hell, Montana—no thank you. I would have said it was impossible to cross the thick, gnarled foliage if I hadn’t just done it, but there was no way I’d risk another chance to be stuck in that trap. Using my new ability, I closed my eyes and stepped outside my body. I barely felt anything as I transitioned to my disembodied form.
    I thought of the other side, the side I’d originally been pushed through the hedge from, and blinked there.
    A harem of drunken maidens was dancing and lounging around as a band of minstrels played music for Charles’s court. Expensive oriental carpets and huge fluffy pillows were strewn under a large awning. He sat high above the melee on an elaborate gilded throne. The scowl on his face was unbecoming. He lifted his chin, putting his nose high in the air. As a maiden dared touch him, he jerked his hand away, throwing her off.
    She didn’t seem to mind. The same way Cinnamon hadn’t minded earlier. Were they all under his spell?
    My eyes widened as I recognized the woman. Cinnamon. She twirled around as if she were high. Her blonde hair was pulled up into an almost comical style—a massive beehive of curls and flowers—and she was wearing a toga .
    I focused on Cinnamon and blinked my presence closer to her location. She was making a fool of herself, but clearly didn’t seem to mind. His spell was strong, but how did she let herself get trapped? And how was he keeping her under his spell?
    I spotted the demon woman, who’d helped Cinnamon into the house earlier, heading toward Charles. I studied her. Her long dark hair was down, but the indigo streak was still prominent among the ebony waves. Her sundress was gone. She wore black pants and a casual cotton top.
    “Is the girl still with us?” she asked.
    Charles narrowed his eyes. “Why do you wish to know?”
    Indigo lowered her head. “I was just curious if I should expect another at dinner tonight.”
    He snorted. “No, she’s already left.”
    “Very well. I’ll be in town for a few hours. I’ll return before dinner.”
    “You may go.” He waved his hand, shooing her away.
    Indigo left the courtyard. Did she believe Charles? If not, would she call The Boss? Probably not . She had to know Charles was manipulating Cinnamon. She was clearly helping to keep Cinnamon here. The Boss wouldn’t appreciate her role; therefore, she wouldn’t draw attention to herself by telling him about me, but then why