To Hell and Back (Mel Goes to Hell Series Book 4) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Demelza Carlton
returned to her office, there was a note on the computer keyboard:
If you need anything, anything at all, call me – Nybbas.
Beneath the scrawled letters were his extension number and a mobile phone number, too. Mel flipped the note over and tossed it into her empty in-tray. Time to get some work done. She switched on her computer and reached into the top drawer for a pen and something to write on.
Nothing. The bottom drawer now held her lingerie, but the top one was empty. So was the one in the middle. It seemed that the desk had been ransacked during the guerrilla stationery wars in her first contract here and nothing had been replaced. At least she knew where the stationery storeroom was – surely there'd be supplies in it by now.
Mel pushed open the door to the storeroom to find it occupied by an unusually thin man. The only sign of stationery was the cup of pens on the desk, beside his bony elbow.
"Oh, excuse me," she said, backing out. "I thought this was where the stationery was kept. I must have made a mistake."
"Honoured by Lady's visit," the man replied, twisting out of his seat. Short and skinny, he barely came to Mel's shoulder. His protruding eyes seemed huge in his emaciated face. His mouth didn't move as he continued, "How can Sptlk serve Lady?"
She laughed and blinked away the illusion. Sptlk the imp stood on the desk, not the carpet, and the malnourished man didn't exist at all. "You're looking very fit," she said, nodding at his flat belly, which she remembered being a lot rounder.
Sptlk made a disgusted noise in his throat. His voice sounded in her head: "Demonic cost-cutting. No chips and less staff. Agreement with Lord makes imps stay. Payment will be exacted." Images spun rapidly in his thoughts as he showed Mel what had happened in the HELL Corporation offices while she'd been in Hell.
The imps were on the brink of mutiny. They hadn't been paid – in Lucifer's unconventional terms, or in monetary ones – since Luce had left. Beelzebub had sent staff in increasing numbers back to Hell. Staff were required to buy their own stationery if they wanted it – and their own padlocks to keep it from being stolen by the other demons. The last chip Sptlk had eaten had been at Mel's farewell morning tea – until he'd decided to create the illusion of a starving human. With the illusion, an hour's begging at lunchtime yielded him enough money to feed himself and the other imps.
"I'll fix this, Sptlk," Mel vowed. "So, I take it I'm not going to find any stationery in the office? I'll need to get my own?"
Sptlk hesitantly answered in the affirmative.
Mel lifted her chin. "To Hell with that. I'll get Luce to make me the new CFO. I'm in the right office already. All cost-cutting measures will need my approval and I'll be damned before I let this sort of stupidity continue. Tell me: was it Beelzebub or Persephone who made things like this?"
"Demon ordered. Nephilim did nothing. Plays and giggles only. Business trips to Hell."
"Do you know where Persi went? Or why?" Mel figured it was a faint hope, but one worth investigating.
"Nephilim never saw imps nor spoke. Too busy with fallen angel twins." Sptlk's amusement coloured the images of Persi cavorting with Samael and Camael in Luce's office.
Mel held up her hands. "Stop."
"Apologies, Lady." The images vanished and the memory faded a little in her mind. Nowhere near as much as she'd like, though. "How can Sptlk make amends for forgetting Lady's distaste for lust?"
Mel laughed. "Not all lust. Just the hedonistic sort and watching it in graphic detail. After all, I manage to satisfy Luce just fine and that's probably a miracle in itself."
"No miracle. Lord fortunate having Lady's attention."
Mel caught the edge in the imp's tone, revealing more than Sptlk had perhaps intended. Cautiously, she probed his thoughts and sorrow tinged her own tone as she said, "I'm sorry, Sptlk. I had no idea."
Sptlk laughed bitterly. "Lady loved by many, yet
If you need anything, anything at all, call me – Nybbas.
Beneath the scrawled letters were his extension number and a mobile phone number, too. Mel flipped the note over and tossed it into her empty in-tray. Time to get some work done. She switched on her computer and reached into the top drawer for a pen and something to write on.
Nothing. The bottom drawer now held her lingerie, but the top one was empty. So was the one in the middle. It seemed that the desk had been ransacked during the guerrilla stationery wars in her first contract here and nothing had been replaced. At least she knew where the stationery storeroom was – surely there'd be supplies in it by now.
Mel pushed open the door to the storeroom to find it occupied by an unusually thin man. The only sign of stationery was the cup of pens on the desk, beside his bony elbow.
"Oh, excuse me," she said, backing out. "I thought this was where the stationery was kept. I must have made a mistake."
"Honoured by Lady's visit," the man replied, twisting out of his seat. Short and skinny, he barely came to Mel's shoulder. His protruding eyes seemed huge in his emaciated face. His mouth didn't move as he continued, "How can Sptlk serve Lady?"
She laughed and blinked away the illusion. Sptlk the imp stood on the desk, not the carpet, and the malnourished man didn't exist at all. "You're looking very fit," she said, nodding at his flat belly, which she remembered being a lot rounder.
Sptlk made a disgusted noise in his throat. His voice sounded in her head: "Demonic cost-cutting. No chips and less staff. Agreement with Lord makes imps stay. Payment will be exacted." Images spun rapidly in his thoughts as he showed Mel what had happened in the HELL Corporation offices while she'd been in Hell.
The imps were on the brink of mutiny. They hadn't been paid – in Lucifer's unconventional terms, or in monetary ones – since Luce had left. Beelzebub had sent staff in increasing numbers back to Hell. Staff were required to buy their own stationery if they wanted it – and their own padlocks to keep it from being stolen by the other demons. The last chip Sptlk had eaten had been at Mel's farewell morning tea – until he'd decided to create the illusion of a starving human. With the illusion, an hour's begging at lunchtime yielded him enough money to feed himself and the other imps.
"I'll fix this, Sptlk," Mel vowed. "So, I take it I'm not going to find any stationery in the office? I'll need to get my own?"
Sptlk hesitantly answered in the affirmative.
Mel lifted her chin. "To Hell with that. I'll get Luce to make me the new CFO. I'm in the right office already. All cost-cutting measures will need my approval and I'll be damned before I let this sort of stupidity continue. Tell me: was it Beelzebub or Persephone who made things like this?"
"Demon ordered. Nephilim did nothing. Plays and giggles only. Business trips to Hell."
"Do you know where Persi went? Or why?" Mel figured it was a faint hope, but one worth investigating.
"Nephilim never saw imps nor spoke. Too busy with fallen angel twins." Sptlk's amusement coloured the images of Persi cavorting with Samael and Camael in Luce's office.
Mel held up her hands. "Stop."
"Apologies, Lady." The images vanished and the memory faded a little in her mind. Nowhere near as much as she'd like, though. "How can Sptlk make amends for forgetting Lady's distaste for lust?"
Mel laughed. "Not all lust. Just the hedonistic sort and watching it in graphic detail. After all, I manage to satisfy Luce just fine and that's probably a miracle in itself."
"No miracle. Lord fortunate having Lady's attention."
Mel caught the edge in the imp's tone, revealing more than Sptlk had perhaps intended. Cautiously, she probed his thoughts and sorrow tinged her own tone as she said, "I'm sorry, Sptlk. I had no idea."
Sptlk laughed bitterly. "Lady loved by many, yet
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