скачать книгу бесплатно
Straight By The Rules
Michelle Scott
The Devil made me…I’m Lilith Straight, the Devil’s servant. You’d think that it would be straightforward, wouldn’t you? Carry out the Devil’s work, that’s all: wreak havoc and cause carnage on Earth…The problem is, I still have a conscience. Which makes life just a little bit tricky in Hell, as you might imagine. And when your sister actually belongs in Heaven, the hot man in your life has his own devilish agenda and the rest of your family won’t stop meddling in your unfinished business…well, let’s just say it’s complicated!No one ever plays by the rules in Hell, so maybe it’s time to make up my own!Book 3 in the Lilith Straight series!Straight to Hell – Book 1Straight to Heaven – Book 2Straight by the Rules – Book 3
The Devil made me…
I’m Lilith Straight, the Devil’s servant. You’d think that it would be straightforward, wouldn’t you? Carry out the Devil’s work, that’s all: wreak havoc and cause carnage on Earth…
The problem is, I still have a conscience. Which makes life just a little bit tricky in Hell, as you might imagine. And when your sister actually belongs in Heaven, the hot man in your life has his own devilish agenda and the rest of your family won’t stop meddling in your unfinished business…well, let’s just say it’s complicated!
No one ever plays by the rules in Hell, so maybe it’s time to make up my own!
Also by Michelle Scott: (#ulink_853a45cb-5766-5238-8b23-475e2d608f15)
Straight to Hell
Straight to Heaven
Straight by the Rules
Michelle Scott
Copyright (#ulink_4081caad-c633-5436-a145-e4b5c077efea)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015
Copyright © Michelle Scott 2015
Michelle Scott asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © October 2015 ISBN: 9781474045889
Version date: 2018-10-30
MICHELLE SCOTT
has been a fiction junkie all of her life. Although she’ll read everything from literature to mystery to modern classics, she has a special penchant for urban fantasy. She is also a huge nerd and an unapologetic Doctor Who fan, preferring Tom Baker above all others. In college, Michelle earned her BA in psychology and met the guy of her dreams. Thirty years later, she has never once used her psychology degree, but is still married to Mr. Right, which proves that a good college education is worth every penny. Currently, she is a straight-laced community college English teacher by day, while at night, she stalks supernatural beings in her hometown of Detroit. Michelle lives with her husband and three children, all of whom are addicted to Doctor Who (and urban fantasy) as much as she.
A huge thank you to everyone who helped me with the latest Lilith Straight installment. First off, to my loving and patient family. Next, to Nancy Fulda and Maria Schneider who were invaluable as beta readers. Then to my friend and writing buddy, W. G. Garvey. Finally, an extra-special thanks to my HQ Digital editor, Charlotte Mursell, for helping to turn this raw material into a polished gem. I hope that every writer is as lucky as I am in having such a wonderful, supportive group of people.
To my ever-supportive family
Contents
Cover (#u5d34c035-904e-518c-a91e-25ea16718999)
Blurb (#u39b7ff51-d5fa-52af-b625-46824aff03aa)
Book List (#ulink_f67d2901-0f79-5d0a-8efe-73902054ebc0)
Title Page (#ubec974ad-2574-5728-87ca-159a9aa932e9)
Copyright (#uf166ffdf-7cee-59d6-ae5a-079d0ea78f9f)
Author Bio (#ufea7b292-6b4f-5d41-8dfe-945a9b034bcf)
Acknowledgement (#uc6269d08-24db-58d1-8205-e870bcf12ee5)
Dedication (#udc1f58a3-f35b-584a-88e3-645384fbfbc9)
Chapter One (#ulink_b24a09bd-f829-572e-ac59-96f86b0ab585)
Chapter Two (#ulink_12882884-49d1-5142-a1af-df6f0b9af2ec)
Chapter Three (#ulink_f52ec8d6-1c5b-5d57-86a4-c3986fe350de)
Chapter Four (#ulink_db9a374d-0c7c-5ccc-9356-397ed57a7f7f)
Chapter Five (#ulink_d9a710f0-f9d4-54d6-96a2-3d52a6c92c5b)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_c910e5ad-0118-5348-b1e7-69213913e2de)
For the first time since being forced into service as the Devil’s temptress, I’d reached a doorway in Hell that I couldn’t enter.
With its industrial gray paint and silver knob, the door was nearly identical to every other one in Hell, yet it made me pause. It had been labeled ‘Authorized Personnel Only,’ and mounted above it was a single, red light bulb in a metal cage.
For the most part, the Hell I traveled appeared like a dreary office building. With its endless corridors, flickering fluorescent lights, and scuffed walls, Hell was more depressing than intimidating. But I wasn’t fooled. Ever since I’d been hit by a car and died seven months before, I’d seen enough of the place to know a nightmare lay underneath the façade.
My mind went back to the final moments of my life. Even after all this time, I relived those seconds over and over again. As I crossed the street, my eyes were glued to my cell phone screen and the dirty picture that I was texting my stepsister. A flash of white caught my attention, and I glanced up to see the Volvo speeding towards me. It was too late to run, and to my horror, the car never swerved. A second before it hit me, I got a look at the driver – a grim-faced man dressed in white. Then my feet were knocked out from under me, and I flew up and hit the windshield. It was like being run over by a charging elephant. The impact knocked the shoes off of my feet and my soul out of my body. One minute, I was walking on Earth, and the next I was deep in the bowels of hell.
Now, I was facing a door that I couldn’t open.
Afraid that I’d made a wrong turn, I looked to my succubus for help. My succubus was the demon who had possessed me since I’d been forced into service for the Devil. How do we get past this door? I asked her. She doesn’t speak to me directly, but sends me mental signals. Right then, she was begging me to run away.
“We can’t leave,” I said, irritably. As much as I didn’t want to tempt someone into doing the Devil’s dirty work, I also didn’t dare not do it, either. If I disobeyed Helen Spry, my demon overlord, she wouldn’t hesitate to show me how awful the real Hell could be.
I blamed my great-great-great-great-great grandmother, Sarah Goodswain, for getting me into this mess. Back in the 1700s, she had made a deal with the Devil to get out of being hanged as a witch. The deal had included not only her, but all of her female progeny as well. Now, I was stuck serving the Devil until I could find a way out of that contract.
Despite the door’s ominous vibes, I put my hand on the doorknob and prepared to turn it. My succubus panicked. She yanked hard on her reins, and my hand swiped to the left.
“What’s your issue?” I demanded. Normally, doing the Devil’s work thrilled my inner demon, but something about this door upset her. In fact, she was more agitated now than she had been on those occasions when we’d gone into Heaven. Because Hell boosts her strength, she once again took control of me. Despite my efforts to move forward, I was forced back a few steps. When she begged me to leave a second time, I agreed. If she was so concerned about that doorway, then something must be wrong.
I double-checked the note that Delilah, Miss Spry’s new assistant, had given me. My job was coaxing people into doing the Devil’s work, and Delilah’s was to come up with the names of those people and make appointments for me. Because I’d been complaining that I couldn’t read her writing, she’d taken special pains to print clearly. She’d also added a hand-drawn map. Even so, I couldn’t find my client.
Not that it mattered now. The appointed moment had already passed. These temptations were always timed down to the minute since it was crucial to approach the victims when they were most vulnerable to temptation. Even being a few seconds late could result in a missed opportunity.
Frustrated, I crumpled the note and shoved it into my pocket. Missing the temptation didn’t upset me, but Miss Spry was not an understanding or forgiving demon. Even though the bungled assignment wasn’t my fault, she’d use it as an excuse to punish me just as she had in the past.
Although it was probably pointless, I decided to pay a visit to Delilah and see if we could salvage the job. I left the ominous door and retraced my steps. The identical hallways made Hell labyrinthine, but luckily, my succubus worked like a supernatural GPS system, and within minutes, I found Delilah’s office.
I knocked once, then walked in. Delilah glared at me from behind her desk. A large woman with dark skin and dreadlocks, she was far different from Patrick Clerk, the man she’d replaced. Today, she wore a bright yellow dress and, as always, armfuls of silver bangles. “Don’t tell me,” she said. “Something went wrong.”
Delilah’s bad mood most likely resulted from her impossible job. Mr. Clerk, Miss Spry’s assistant for many years, had become an expert at reading the complex blueprints mapping out each human’s life. Delilah, however, had been working for only a few weeks. Her nerves must have been frayed.
“I couldn’t find the right door,” I said.
“I drew you a map.”
“I know, but it led me to a door that said ‘Authorized Personnel Only.’”
She looked alarmed. “You didn’t try to open it, did you?”
“My succubus wouldn’t let me.”
She sighed, relieved. “Good.”
Asking questions in Hell was frowned upon, but curiosity drove me on. “Why? What’s behind it?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” she said sternly. “If Miss Spry marks a door as Authorized, then stay away from it. Now, let me see that map.”
When I handed her the paper, her face sagged. “This note wasn’t meant for you.” She shuffled folders and notes on her desk until she uncovered another slip of paper. “This was the one you needed.”
“It’s okay,” I said, sighing. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her expression tightened. “No, it’s not okay. Making a mistake is understandable, but making a stupid mistake is just…stupid.” She met my eyes. “I am not a stupid person.”
“I know you aren’t,” I said. “This job is overwhelming. That’s all.” Mr. Clerk had left abruptly, and Delilah had been dumped into his position without so much as a how-to manual or employee orientation.
“I don’t need you to tell me about my job,” she said. “Besides, this job is only part of the problem. Miss Spry also wants me to schedule her appointments, write her letters, and even make her damned tea!” Delilah’s jaw muscles bunched. “I think I’m doing pretty well considering.”
In reality, Delilah’s success rate hovered at twenty-five percent, but I didn’t mention it since I was determined to stay on her good side. The more friends I could make in Hell, the better. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it eventually. Besides, things could be worse. Hell does have nice accommodations.”
Delilah had transformed the former assistant’s austere office by adding wood paneling and black leather furniture. A stunning sepia-toned photograph of a thunderstorm rolling across an African savannah took up one wall. Another had a window overlooking a cityscape. If you believed the illusion Delilah had created, we were several dozen stories up in a downtown skyscraper.
Delilah finally laughed. It was a tired, unhappy laugh, but it was better than her typical glare. “Decorating your office in Hell is like painting a gallows pink.”
“Maybe you should get a computer,” I said.
“How would that help?” She went back to cranky. “What software am I going to use? I’m pretty sure Microsoft doesn’t make a program for finding the best way to make people sin.”
“I only wanted to help,” I told her.
“If you want to help, explain to the boss lady about what happened. I can’t deal with her right now.” We both glanced at the door leading to Miss Spry’s study. Since taking on Delilah as her assistant, Helen had also changed the layout of her office. She and her former assistant used to work next door to each other, but now Delilah also played the part of receptionist.