XIX

DEATH

Hundreds of feet below, a pedestrian shuffled along the sidewalk. I sat on the edge of the roof with the neck of an empty whiskey bottle clutched in my fist and stretched out my arm, swinging the bottle slowly back and forth like a pendulum.

"Bye, bitch."

I dropped it and leaned over the edge to watch it fall and shatter right behind the man. He startled, glanced at his empty surroundings, and booked it down the sidewalk.

"Damn," I muttered. "I'm getting rusty."

"M-my lord?"

I turned back to peer at a little man with glasses.

"Glenn!" I shouted, beaming at him. "My trusted—" Glenn's eyes went wide as he jumped back with a scream that made my ears ring. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Sorry, my lord!" Glenn exclaimed. "It's—it's just you smiled at me."

I unscrewed the cap of another bottle, taking a long swig. "For once, I'm happy to see you. Sit with me, pal. Drink with me."

"Uh, okay . . . my lord." Still hesitant, Glenn climbed up onto the edge, his anxious eyes glued to the drop below. "I can't believe you called me pal—"

"Arm's length ," I snarled.

Glenn scooted down a foot. "How long have you been up here, my lord?"

"An hour. Maybe two."

"This is a-a-awfully high."

"Indeed, the perfect height to push an idiot off." I clapped Glenn hard on the back, making him yelp and start to fall over the edge before I grabbed his shirt to pull him back. "Kidding."

Glenn clutched his chest. "Good one, my lord! Always the jester!" Probably remembering last month's incident when he hadn't laughed at my joke, Glenn forced out a high-pitched laugh until his face turned purple.

I cringed. "That's quite enough. And change your laugh next time; that one's hideous."

"Right. Of course. My apologies, my lord." He took the bottle from my hand and downed a large gulp. Coughing, he handed it back. "Hellfire, this is diabolically strong, my lord! May I ask how many of those you've had?"

"Enough to come to you for advice," I replied. "What's it called when you want to possess something entirely, but there are obstacles in the way? Obstacles that are both internal and external?"

"I believe that's just life, my lord?"

"Life. How repulsive." My lips peeled back from my fangs in a sneer as I gulped down more whiskey. "Are you surprised I summoned you, demon?"

"Very, my lord." Glenn's eyebrows were drawn together, and he looked stiff as hell. "Especially since you summoned me away from my sudden . . . execution."

Ah, right. The execution . "Listen, I know we've had our differences, Glenn. I ripped your tongue out; you screwed me over and virtually aided in the release of Ahrimad and the abduction of Scytherella. We've both wronged each other rather equally, have we not?"

"I'm not too sure about that, my lord. You did sever my body in half one time . . . "

Now I was intrigued. "Truly? I don't recall that."

"It was thirty years ago, my lord. You said you were ‘practicing your back swing,' I believe."

"You healed, though, didn't you?"

"Six weeks of raw agony later, yes." Glenn wiped his nose and sniffed. "You've also tossed me into a tank of hungry sharks . . . "

I snickered. "Oh, yes, that was hysterical."

"Indeed," Glenn muttered. "There's also the fact that you stripped me of my previous identity by renaming me."

"Your name isn't Glenn?" I scratched at the stubble on my jaw. "Huh. Anyway, back to me. I summoned you here for a reason. To tell you that Jerry was the worst punching bag I've ever had."

"Who's Jerry?"

"Your replacement, of course."

"I've been fired for less than a day, and you already replaced me?"

"Jerry's been working on a trial basis at the office for a week. Today was his first official day as my henchman. He sucked. And, damn it, I cracked and slit his sweaty nerd throat. The guy bleeds out like he's auditioning for a goddamn slasher movie. Gruesomely entertaining, but a whole unnecessary mess." I pointed in the vague direction of the shadowy part of the roof. "He's somewhere over there."

"Is that him . . . choking on his own blood, my lord?"

"It relaxes me." I slugged back more whiskey. "I can't deal with Jerry anymore, Glenn. And you're . . . well . . . " I took in Glenn's appearance, struggling not to grimace at his blotchy, ruddy, sweaty face. " Somewhat more tolerable than he was in comparison. When you worked for me, a small fraction of the things you screwed up were perhaps partially my fault. I understand that I can occasionally be difficult to work with. Overbearing, a tad psychotic, not to mention all my masochistic tendencies. Those are some of my finest qualities, if you ask me, but I digress. The point is, you mean something to me, Glenn. As insignificant as that something may be, I . . . I . . . "

"Need me?" Glenn offered.

I pounded my chest with my gloved fist to free a belch. "Yeah. Sure."

My kick-around demon inhaled shakily. "My lord, that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me."

"Don't make this fucking weird, Glenn. I still have my front-row ticket to your execution."

Glenn quickly wiped at his tears with his sleeves.

"I want you to work for me again," I continued. "Do my bidding. Ding-dong ditch my enemies. Spread my wrath amongst the living. Either you take your job back or you get executed. Your choice."

Glenn looked off to the side.

My lip curled. I smashed the neck of the whiskey bottle against the roof with the intention of cutting his throat. "That was hypothetical ! Are you seriously contemplating an execution over working for me again?"

"Of c-c-course not, my lord! I was only zoning out, as idiots do!" He wiped his hands on his slacks. "However . . . " Climbing down from the edge, Glenn jumped to the roof, puffed out his chest, and looked me directly in the eyes. "I want a raise," he squeaked.

"A what ?"

Glenn cleared his throat. "A raise , my lord. I want a raise. You are simply horrifying to work for."

"Thank you."

Glenn's brows creased together. "Do we have a deal or not, sir?"

I swung my legs over the wall, dropped down, and towered over the little demon. He backed up but held his brave face. Snarling, I bent to snatch up the large paper bag I'd left on the ground and handed it to him.

Glenn stared at the parcel like it would explode. "Is this for me, my lord?"

"Yes, it's for you, you twit." I shoved the bag into his chest and patted his shoulder. "Happy . . . Welcome Back Night."

Glenn slowly opened the bag to peer at its contents. "My lord, was this for the girl—"

"No."

"But it—"

"It wasn't for the girl!" I exploded, feeling the numbing effects of the alcohol slipping away. "It's for you, so just take it! Sell it, keep it, toss it, take it back whence it came. I don't give a shit . Just get it away from me and you'll get your raise, all right?"

This time, instead of shuddering under my glare, Glenn calmly looked me in the eyes again and just nodded. Nodded like he understood. "Have an unpleasant night, my lord."

He vanished. I fumbled with the pocket of my sweatshirt for the note I'd written Faith. It was gone. Damn it . I must have dropped it.

Wind snapped at my face as I furiously paced the roof. The more I thought about the gift, the more I thought about her . And the more I thought about her , the more I thought about him . Leo, my second-in-command. Kissing Faith, touching her. I hadn't set boundaries for him; I hadn't thought I had to. I never thought they'd actually—

Kill.

A headache stabbed at my skull, and I doubled over from the agony.

We aren't consuming enough , the beast purred. You're concerned about the girl; meanwhile, you're withering from the inside out without your scythe. What happened to screwing the whole world and never looking back?

"Nothing has changed," I hissed out loud. "Doesn't mean I have to like the thought of her with someone else."

Then claim her.

"Shut up," I snarled.

She belongs to us.

My eyes shut as I worked my neck to one side. "Until the end."

I realized my lips had moved in sync with the monster in my head. The madness was surfacing bit by bit, day by day. The only thing that kept me rooted was the blade and my motivation to break the Seven Deadly Sins curse once and for all. Now I had neither in my grasp.

I was impatient. Putting so much trust in Ace's premonition felt risky, but despite everything, deep down, I somehow still trusted him, so now I was sitting on my hands waiting for his deadline to arrive. The issue was that after tonight, after imagining Faith kissing another man and barely containing my reaction to it, I wasn't so sure I'd last two more weeks.

A sense of dread dropped into my stomach like lead at the thought of losing complete control of my other side . I manned up and shoved the fear away.

There . Gone . Time to stop thinking about Faith with Leo too .

I turned away from the dusky city and manifested back into my apartment.

How the hell long was a birthday party anyway?

Fuck!

Thirty minutes later, I was molded into the black leather couch watching last night's Chicago Bears game. I'd finally run out of whiskey, so a carton of milk lay on my bare chest, and I was absently scratching Cruentas with my big toe.

"Hell's Bells" blared from the coffee table, the rock riff going on and on. It ended. Then the phone beeped with a voicemail. Groaning, I sat up and slapped the coffee table for my phone, grabbing a Reese's peanut butter cup instead. I popped the candy, wrapper and all, into my mouth and chewed before slumping back into the couch.

When my phone buzzed with a text message, I unleashed a growl and shoved a bunch of Skittles off my phone to check my screen.

My office. Now.

"Grrrreeeeat." I peeled myself up off the couch and dropped a bunch of crumbs off my stomach that Cruentas would vacuum up. I bent down to give him a few firm, affectionate thumps on the side. "Watch the house, boy."

Cruentas whinnied.

I stormed toward a clearing in the room, shadows peeling off the walls and launching onto me as I manifested on the roof. The darkness formed my cloak, the fabric pressing tight to my skin as I sprinted across the roof and leapt, wings unfurling. I tore into the night toward D&S Tower.

Lucifer stood on the roof waiting. Must be important . I dove down, coming in a little too fast. I stumbled as I landed, rolling it off with a slow jog toward him. "Yeah?"

"Don't yeah me," Lucifer said. "You took your sweet time getting here." His nostrils flared as I neared. "You reek."

"Got thirsty."

"Just get inside." A doorway of flames appeared behind him, and we both walked through it to get to his office on the other side. Lucifer stepped up onto the raised platform beneath his desk and plucked a cigar from a golden box.

"I got it, kid," he said. "I got the location of the book."

" Already? I didn't think Sarah would break so easily."

Lucifer clipped two cigars and lit them with his thumb, tossing me one.

"It wasn't entirely a matter of breaking her as much as a matter of persuasion." He gave me a leering look, and I assumed he'd had sex with her.

"Who knew you'd dick your way to getting the grimoire," I said with a wry smile.

Lucifer grinned back around a plume of smoke. "Don't be a jackass. We talked at length about Faith's situation. Her niece is her weakness. It's a shame, really. She always wanted a child, and she sees Faith as the daughter she never had. Little does Sarah know that when she begged me to save her fiancé's life all those years ago, her fertility was my price."

My head snapped up. He'd never told me that. "Why? You could have taken anything from her."

"And you could have scared Faith into complacency rather than making her fall in love with you," Lucifer countered. "We're Fallen. It brings us pleasure to make mortals suffer. It's our nature."

I couldn't deny that characteristic in my own black heart. "What's the plan now, old man? Where's the grimoire?"

"She hid it. In the floorboards of a church."

I snickered, smoke escaping my mouth. "How unoriginal."

Neither of us, nor any other creature of the night, could cross into hallowed ground.

"The church was abandoned after Hurricane Sandy," Devin continued. "The flooding blew open the front door and broke the hallowed seal."

"Perfect." I grinned.

"Not quite," Lucifer said, resting his cigar on an ashtray. "When Sarah disappeared, the Guild acted fast. Only a Chosen can hold the book for any length of time, but they must have gone to the church and jinxed it, just in case. It's been housing a nest of more than thirty harpies for two days now."

I released a violent curse in Latin. "We'll need at least ten Fallen for a job like that."

"I only require one ," Lucifer said. " You . Tonight, you will go destroy the hive and bring me the book. Complete this task and I will overlook your dalliance with the girl."

Unease darted down my spine, and I gripped the armrests of my chair.

"I know you've been training her," Lucifer said, leaning his forearms on his desk. "I know the two of you have been getting . . . closer . As you know, Faith is practically my daughter, so I will warn you one last time. Keep your dick in your fucking pants. Because if I find out you've tarnished her or she gets pregnant, I will tear off your goddamn wings with my bare hands."

Rage tightened my throat. The implication that I was some lowlife punk getting scolded by a protective father ticked me off. Lucifer was paranoid that Faith losing her virginity might affect her precious pure power.

I was getting tired of him treating me like some low-level subordinate because I'd screwed up collecting Faith's soul. I was Death . A force of nature. Our Fallen soldiers kneeled at my command, and I'd become the mortals' worst fear.

Maybe you're his too , purred the voice in my head . That's why he prefers when you're weak.

"Here." Lucifer stood and chucked a bag at my chest, which I snatched in midair. Inside, there was an address on a piece of paper and bulky gloves. "Wear those when you handle the book, and don't hold it for long. I expect the grimoire on my desk by the break of dawn."

Without another word, I manifested to the roof of the D&S Tower.

I took another pull from my cigar before smashing it to the ground and crushing it beneath my heel. "Pregnant?" I scoffed. "He says that as if my pull-out game hasn't been strong for over two thousand years."

I wasn't physically strong enough to take on thirty harpies without a little extra oomph. I'd need a good hunt before collecting the grimoire.

I stepped onto the ledge of the tower. Two hours of murder would do the trick. Perk me right up, just like old times.

A plane overhead drew my attention to the night sky, and I scowled. Drawing attention from the Elders tonight would be reckless, though. Miraculously, the reapers and I had been able to get back on track with the dead without any probing, and Lucifer and I had managed to keep Faith under Heaven's radar. But we'd be complete morons to let our guard down. Those dusty, goody-two-shoes pinheads in Heaven were planning something. But until we could confirm that, I had to behave —even when I needed a quick pick-me-up the most—and collect the dead as I was supposed to.

I summoned my to-kill list, the old scroll unraveling and filling with names at an infuriatingly slow rate. Selecting my first victim, I dove off the tower headfirst, like diving into a pool, and then I heard it. Her voice.

Death!

Faith? My wings stretched, catching the air the wrong way as I glided to wrap around the tower. The sharp change in trajectory nearly slammed me into the skyscraper, but I turned over and shoved forward, my stomach grazing the side of a building. Five sharp strokes of my wings and I rose into the air until I narrowed in on my apartment building in the distance.

Faith? Can you hear me? What's wrong?

When there was no response, my stomach clenched. There was a sliver of doubt that I'd heard anything at all. The weak whisper of her voice might be a symptom of the madness within me.

No, I'd heard her. Faith had called to me through the bond, but now she was silent. Her mind barriers had slammed closed.

Or worse , I thought as I plummeted down to the rooftop of my penthouse like an avenging god. She's dead .