Ms. Hirsch’s left brow arched. “You don’t know?” At the sound of his voice, that warmth inside me spread, not comforting, but seditious. Like a fierce flame burning within me, demanding action.

“Should I?” The fact that he couldn’t use her voice probably meant he hadn’t been in her body often enough to learn how to work all the gears and levers. Hopefully, he’d never been in her body before. I hadn’t even known she was eligible for possession....

“Not officially, but I’m a big fan of your work.”

“My work?” I should have been terrified, but what little fear I felt wasn’t because my guidance counselor had been possessed, or because whoever was possessing her had obviously known when and where he could get to me through her. I was scared for Ms. Hirsch. Of what he might do to her—or make her do to herself—if he didn’t get whatever he wanted from me.

Ms. Hirsch’s head bobbed and a strand of red hair—her bangs were long and trendy—fell across her forehead. “You’ve managed to thoroughly piss off not one but three of my most reviled associates. And to survive their anger.” He frowned with my guidance counselor’s pink mouth. “Sort of.”

Every word he said stoked the fire inside me until the flames of my anger grew hotter, taller, licking the inside of my skin like they wanted to burst free and roast the world.

I knew what he was doing. He was feeding my anger. Nurturing it, like fertilizing a garden until the veggies are ready to harvest. And devour.

The worst part was that whoever this hellion was, he knew exactly who I was, and that I wasn’t—strictly speaking—alive. And he knew who my enemies were. But I didn’t need to be told that when dealing with hellions, the enemy of my enemies was definitely not my friend.

“Who are you and what do you want?” The longer I sat there, the angrier I got. He’d hijacked Ms. Hirsch’s body. He’d subpoenaed me from my lunch period like I had nothing better to do than be ordered around by a monster from another world! “Never mind. I don’t care who you are or what you want. Get the hell out of my counselor’s body, or I’ll take you out myself.”

I stood and picked up the large, jagged chunk of pink quartz Ms. Hirsch used as a paperweight and hefted it, silently threatening to bash his hellion brains in.

“Nice. Decent buildup from irritation to anger, with a flare of true rage on the end. How long have you been harboring so much hatred, Kaylee? You were only a blip on my radar a few months ago, but now you’re a blinking light too bright to ignore.”

What the hell? I glared down at him, confused. Was the hellion actually trying to counsel me? Was this some kind of demon identity crisis?

“Oh, and you do understand that if you bash me over the head with that rock, your counselor will be the one who wakes up witha headache. Right? If she wakes up at all.”

Crap. I did know that. Blazing anger did nothing to help my logic.

The twitch at one corner of her mouth looked suspiciously like amusement. “If we’re going to be any use to each other, you’ll have to learn to think through your anger.”

I desperately wanted to know what he was talking about, but I knew better than to ask. I needed to cruise below hellion-radar, not actively engage it.

“My name is Ira, incidentally.” He leaned back in Ms. Hirsch’s chair and crossed her slim legs, and the ease with which he moved told me that even if he wasn’t familiar with her particular body, this wasn’t his first time in human form. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m a hellion of wrath. And I’ve been itching to make your acquaintance of late. I think we can help each other out.”

“Not gonna happen.” I remained standing, but I put the rock down. I couldn’t hurt Ms. Hirsch, which Ira obviously knew.

“Oh, I think it might, if you knew what I had to offer.”

“No.” Never make a deal with a  hellion. That’s the first thing they tell you in “Surviving the Netherworld 101.” Or it would be, if such a class existed. Hellions love to bargain, but they never agree to a deal if they’re not getting the better end of it. The vastly better end.

That other end tends to leave humans dead, or dying, or injured, or addicted. Or worse.

“There’s nothing I want from the evil incarnation of anger.” Nothing I was willing to pay for, anyway.

“Belittling my existence with understatement doesn’t change the facts. I am much more than an ‘incarnation of anger.’” Ms. Hirsch sat straighter and pinned me with a gaze too steady and merciless to come from anything other than a hellion. “I am in the clench of every fist. I am the hot thrum of blood rushing through your veins. Every thud of knuckles against flesh is the cry of my true name. I am the glint of rage in your ex’s eyes, the livid grinding of his teeth. My pulse is the wave of anger washing over the crowd. The swing of a corpse from the noose. The final twitch of a man murdered in revenge. I know you, Kaylee Cavanaugh. I know you very, very well, and I can give you what you want most in the world. What no one else can give you.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” I insisted, with less certainty this time, but repeating that didn’t make it true.

“Really? Not even justice for everything they’ve taken from you? For everyone they’ve killed? For everything they’ve cost your friends and family?”

Oh, crap.

The hellion smiled slowly with Ms. Hirsch’s perfectly glossed lips. “You want Avari, Invidia, and Belphegore to pay for what they’ve done.”