Anger flashed across the reaper’s face, mirroring his brother’s, but beneath it lay a foundation of pain and vulnerability even he could not hide. “This is different because she sold her soul, Nash. You know what that means.”

Nash’s eyes closed for a moment, and he inhaled deeply. When he met Tod’s gaze again, his held more sympathy than anger. “That was her choice.”

“She didn’t know what she was getting into! She couldn’t have!” the reaper shouted, and I was floored by the depth of his anger and frustration. I’d never seen him put so much raw emotion on display.

“What was she getting into?” I glanced from brother to brother and crossed my own arms, waiting for an answer. I hate always being the clueless one.

Finally Nash sighed and turned his attention to me. “She sold her soul to a hellion, but he won’t have full use of it until she dies. When she does, her soul is his for eternity. Forever. He can do whatever he wants with it, but since hellions feed on pain and chaos, he’ll probably torture Addison’s soul—and thus what remains of Addison—until the end of time. Or the end of the Netherworld. Whichever comes first.”

My stomach churned around the dinner we’d grabbed before the concert, threatening to send the burger back up. “Is that what happened to the souls Aunt Val traded to Belphegore?” Nash nodded grimly, and horror drew my hands into cold, damp fists. “But that’s not fair. Those girls did nothing wrong, and now their souls are going to be tortured for all of eternity.”

“That’s why soul-poaching is illegal.” Tod’s voice was soft with sympathy and heavy with grief.

“Is selling your soul illegal, too?” A spark of hope zinged through me. Maybe Addison could get her soul back on a technicality!

But the reaper shook his head. “Souls can’t be stolen from the living. They can only be given away or sold by the owner, or poached after death, once they’re released from the body. There’s a huge market for human souls in the Netherworld, and what Addy did was perfectly legal. But she had no idea what she was getting into. She couldn’t have.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t decide whether I was more horrified for those four innocent souls or for my aunt, who’d given up her own soul to save her daughter’s. Or for Addison Page, who would soon suffer the same fate.

“We have to tell her.” I looked into Nash’s eyes and found the greens and browns once again swirling, this time with fear and reluctance, based on the expression framing the windows of his soul. “I couldn’t live with myself if we didn’t at least try.”

“Kaylee, this is not our responsibility,” he said, his protest fortified with a solid dose of ordinary common sense. “Thehellion already has her soul. What are we supposed to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we could help her break her demon contract, or something. Is that possible?”

Nash nodded reluctantly. “There are procedures built in, but Kaylee, it’s way too dangerous….” But he knew he couldn’t change my mind. Not this time. I could see it on his face.

“I can’t walk away and leave her soul to be tortured if there’s anything I can do to help. Can you?”

He didn’t answer, and his heavy silence frightened me more than the thought of the hellion waiting for full possession of Addison’s soul. Then he took my hand, and I exhaled deeply in relief. “Lead the way, reaper,” he said. “And you better hurry. With Eden dead, Addy probably won’t stick around for the finale.” The previous shows had each closed with a duet from Addison’s forthcoming album.

With Nash’s warning in mind, we wound our way through the backstage area, Tod popping into locked rooms and side hallways occasionally to make sure we were on the right track. He also popped into Addison’s dressing room twice, to make sure she was still there.

The closer we got, the more people we saw in the halls, and they were all talking about Eden’s onstage collapse. She’d been rushed to the hospital moments after we left the stage, and though the EMTs had been giving her CPR and mouth-to-mouth when they left, no one seemed to think she would live.

Which we already knew for sure.

Thanks to the badges around our necks, no one tried to throw us out, or even ask where we were headed, so when we finally made it to Addison’s dressing room, I couldn’t help thinking the whole thing had been too easy.

I was right. There was a security guard posted outside her door. He had a newspaper rolled up in one fist and biceps the size of cannons.

“Now what?” I whispered, bending for a drink from the water fountain twenty feet from the closed door.

“Let me make sure she’s still alone,” Tod said, and I flinched over how loud he was speaking until I realized no one else could hear him. “Then I’ll get rid of the guard.”

Before we could ask how he planned to do that, the reaper disappeared.

Nash and I strolled arm in arm down the hall, trying not to look suspicious, and I grew more grateful by the second that he’d come with us—because I would have done it even without him. The security guard wore sunglasses, though it was night and we were inside, so I couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching us, but I would have bet money that he was.

Out of nowhere, a hand touched my elbow, and Tod suddenly appeared at my side. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and the guard’s head swiveled slowly in my direction.