XX

Faith

Three floors down from Death's penthouse, Leo and I got off the elevator. We walked down a sleek hallway with windows looking out onto the city on one side and simplistic modern art on the other before stopping at a door. Leo opened it and ushered me inside. We entered a cozy, masculine apartment with worn-out couches and beanbag chairs, a pool table, a dartboard, and a pinball machine. Against one wall was a long bar with drinks being mixed by a bartender. Rock music played through extra-bass speakers, but not at a volume where people couldn't hear one another talking. Along another wall was a popcorn machine and a table laden with food: sandwiches, pizza, various chips like Doritos and Cheetos, candy, sodas, and water . . .

There were only six men in the room. All of them were attractive, imposing, mysterious. They wore outfits ranging from casual to elegant, and each of them had vibrant, different-colored eyes.

There was a connection linking them. I'd felt it the moment I'd entered the room. A palpable, deadly energy radiated off these seven men. Beneath their pretty fa?ades were cold-blooded killers.

"Faith," Leo began, "these are my brothers."

"Pleasure to meet you, love." A grinning man with a pink Mohawk sauntered over. "I'm Romeo. We're the Seven Sins, but there's an eighth one just for looking at you, you exquisite little treat."

"And a ninth for when I wedge my foot up your ass," I said.

"Wowza." Pink Mohawk backed up a step, and a few of the reapers heckled in amusement. "You're dangerous. I think I'm in heat."

"Romeo's sin is obviously lust," Leo said. "I won't be letting him within six feet of you. You might catch something with an itch." He motioned to the man stuffing a sandwich down his gullet. "That's Gunner."

"Gluttony?" I guessed.

"'Hat would be me," Gunner said around a mouthful of food. "Nice 'o mee' you." He reached for a handful of Red Vine licorice, but the bowl was snatched away by a tattooed arm.

The thief with the tattoos sported gelled-back black hair. Real Mafia-esque. He tore at the Red Vines with his teeth and snarled like an animal. "I'm Wolf." He held out the licorice like a saliva-drenched bouquet, and when he grinned, his canines were unnaturally sharper than the rest of his teeth. "You want some?"

"That's okay." I laughed.

"Keep your valuables away from that one." My attention was drawn to a gray-eyed reaper with ebony skin and a baritone voice. When he stood up, he towered over the others. His dark hair was shaved close to his head like a soldier's, and I could see an intricate black mark on his bicep. Death had a similar tattoo in the same spot. Now that I thought about it, Wolf's tattoos reminded me of Death's as well.

"Denim," the reaper said, and then a polite smile softened his severe face. "Pride."

"Nice to meet you, Denim," I said, returning the smile. "You guys part of a motorcycle gang with these badass names?"

Denim gave a great, unexpected chuckle. "Funny. Death mentioned that you were eccentric."

"You're saying it like a compliment, but you know damn well he meant it as an insult," chimed in another reaper. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, and his sandy-brown hair was combed in a prim style. He sat back on a brown leather couch with his feet crossed at the ankles.

"That's Flash," Denim said when the reaper didn't introduce himself. "Sloth. In Latin, Sloth means ‘lack of care — in the world, in themselves, in others.'"

The reapers all grunted in agreement, evidently teasing Flash. He flipped the room off, and it made me laugh at how sibling-like these guys acted.

"It is not just lack of care but resentment that curses me," Flash elucidated, sloshing the drink in his glass thoughtfully. "I'm multi-layered, complex. The Roman poet Virgil described me as ‘the effect of an insufficient amount of love.'" He looked out into the distance with a somber expression and sniffed. "I'm misunderstood, really—"

"Get your head out of your arse!" barked a thick Irish accent. "Nobody cares."

"That would be Blade," Leo said with a sigh, motioning to the guy sitting at a table with a whetstone, sharpening a knife. "Wrath, if you couldn't tell."

Blade narrowed his eyes at us before returning to his knife.

"Lovely group," I muttered. "Lust, Gluttony, Pride, Avarice, Wrath, Sloth . . . " My eyes swept the reapers at each sin and then landed on Leo, who was watching me very peculiarly with those amber eyes illuminating like an owl's. "You're Envy."

"I must be," Leo replied, "because I'm jealous how quickly my brothers were able to make you smile."

My face grew hot.

" Suaaave ," Romeo sang sarcastically.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck. "I think that's enough with the introductions. Who else wants some bland human food?"

The next two hours were the most fun that I'd had in a while. I ate my fill of sandwiches, chips, and root beer. I kicked Leo and Romeo's butts in Disco Rebel , since they had all the versions on the PlayStation in the den, and I almost got the new high score. After my victory, there was ice cream cake.

Gunner came forward, his light-green eyes shy as Wolf and Flash clapped him on the shoulder and encouraged him to stand in front of the cake.

"Ah, so you're the birthday boy," I said to Gunner. "How old are you today?"

Gunner scratched his head with a sheepish smile. "I lost track at year two hundred thirty-two."

Dang. Two hundred and thirty-two. I glanced around the room at the seven's young faces. They all appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties, around Death's age. Guess it made sense that they were a bunch of old souls too.

After we sang "Happy Birthday," Gunner closed his eyes theatrically for a wish as his sparkler candles flared like the Fourth of July. I got quiet as I remembered my own wish not too long ago. I want to know who I am .

"Birthday boy gets the first piece," Gunner said, smoke drifting from the extinguished candles as he triple-stacked his paper plate. He cut a third of the giant ice cream cake for himself and licked his fingers as he hauled it protectively to his spot at the other end of the table.

"Geez," I muttered to Leo. "Guy can eat."

"I have to make three turkeys on Thanksgiving," Romeo chimed in, leaning over the chair between us to talk to me. "Your birthday just passed last month, didn't it, love? The ol' prophecy and matured-soul situation and all."

"Yep, my birthday was the twentieth," I muttered.

"Congratulations! One year closer to death," Romeo said cheerfully. "Or one day closer to me , if you're lucky. No soul leaves the Love Machine unsatisfied."

"Bye," Leo said, shoving Romeo's face as he moved to sit between us.

Laughing, I brought my root beer to my lips, then paused. A high-pitched ringing sounded in the distance, growing louder the more I concentrated on it. I cast my gaze around the room to see if anyone else noticed it.

"Do you hear that?" I asked Leo.

He frowned. "Hear what?"

"That ringing."

Where had I heard it before?

"What ringing?" As Wolf pulled out his phone to check if he had a notification, the ringing seemed to rise, and I rubbed at my ears with a wince.

Leo reached out to touch my arm. "You all right?"

The ringing came to an abrupt halt, leaving me with what could only be described as a claw raking over my brain. I looked down at my forearm, where the ghost of the scar from Malphas's underling still marred my skin.

"Faith?"

Bile climbed up my throat. "Excuse me, I—"

Shoving my seat back, I hurried into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I threw up everything I'd eaten. I flicked on the lights, acid burning my throat and my nostrils. I went straight to the sink and splashed water into my mouth. When I looked up at my reflection, I went rigid with terror.

Ahrimad stood in the mirror, amber eyes flaring with rage.

Bring it to me . His pale lips moved in sync with his voice in my head. Bring me the book, Faith.

A scream tore from my throat as I slammed back into the wall behind me and collapsed. The lights flickered violently as the sensation of claws tore into the inside of my skull again. Energy surged down my arms, snapping out my hand as I fired uncontrollably into the toilet, exploding a water pipe.

Leo broke in to the bathroom. His eyes went wide as he took in my crumpled form on the ground and the uncontrollable light gathering in my shaking hands.

"I can't stop it," I said with ragged breaths. The energy kept coming, the blue-and-white orb as wild as an unstable star. I rose onto my knees and turned toward the wall to shield it from Leo. The paint on the walls on either side of my hands began to peel back from the heat of my light.

I know you feel me, Chosen. Ahrimad's voice hissed inside my skull. I know you hear me.

I know you hear me.

I know you hear me.

You can't hide forever. You can't outrun destiny . . .

"Go away!" The lights flickered back on with a buzz. A migraine split my skull as warm liquid rushed from my nose to my lips, until I tasted blood. "Leave me alone!"

Light filled my vision and exploded outward in a sonic boom, and I yelped as it knocked me flat on the floor. My ears rang uncontrollably. I covered my head with my hands as bits of ceiling rained down. Leo pulled me across the floor before a piece of it slammed into my leg and barked out orders to the reapers. His voice was muffled as my hearing warped in and out.

You cannot fight me.

Your mind is too weak.

Power raced down my arms. I shoved both of my palms into Leo's chest to try to keep him back. I hit the floor on all fours with a scream, light consuming my surroundings.

Death! Panicking, I roared his name in my mind. I need you!

He can't save you from me , Ahrimad seethed in my head. I am the ultimate death. I am his maker. Feel what I am capable of. See it with your own eyes.

I was paralyzed: my spine bent back, and my arms went stiff at my sides. My eyes rolled into my head as my worst nightmares came to life. I watched Ahrimad slaughter my family one by one: my mother, my father, Aunt Sarah. Gruesome, unspeakable executions.

Bring me the grimoire! Ahrimad thundered.

I collapsed to all fours again, hyperventilating. Everything merged together, and the room spun in a blur.

"I can't control it," I gasped at the reapers standing in the doorway. "Get away! Everyone get back!"

I raced out of the bathroom. I had to get the hell out of there. I had to—

I crashed into a hard, masculine frame. Strong hands caught my waist, securing me in a tight grasp. Death . His nostrils flared as he rapidly scanned my features, those vertical pupils dilating as shadows crept into his irises. I was a live wire buzzing with adrenaline until he laid his gloved hand against my wet cheek.

My knees buckled from exhaustion. Death caught me and held me upright against him as I sobbed uncontrollably.

"What happened?" he thundered. "Someone speak the fuck up! Now! "

"I don't know," Leo answered, sounding both worried and in pain. "She was fine, and then—"

"I left you. To protect her!" Death snarled.

"Death," I whispered, snapping his attention to my face. "It's not his fault. Please . . . just take me away from here."

A muscle flexed in his jaw. Without a word, he bent down, carefully hoisted me into his arms, and carried me to his penthouse.