XXIII

Outside D you're drawing attention to us. Get on."

I managed to contain my rage the entire drive back to his apartment. The second his front door shut, I zeroed in on him like a bull about to charge a red cape.

"All right," Death said, dumping his keys into the usual dish. "Let's talk—"

"Yes, let's!" I exclaimed. "If I could bring you back to life, I would! To kill you again! "

"Are you going to keep screaming at me, or will you hear me out?"

"Tell me my aunt is okay," I growled.

"Your aunt is fine. Lucifer used an illusion to persuade you to cooperate. But I wouldn't count on being so lucky next time."

"I need to see her. Now."

"Not happening."

"Why? Because you're scared shitless of Lucifer?"

Death laughed and ran his tongue over his teeth. "Keep it up and I'll kill her myself, sweetheart."

I lost it.

"Argh!" I pulled back my arm and pitched my power at his face, but Death swiped out his hand in a blur and captured it in his gloved palm. Shadow consumed my light into a mini vortex, extinguishing it.

Oh .

He came at me like a bullet. Tendrils of darkness slammed me up against the wall, shackling my wrists and ankles to the door.

"Do. Not. Ever ," Death snarled, his accent thickening as he loomed over my restrained body, "do that again."

I took a breath to calm myself. Trying to assume a reasonable tone, I asked, "Did you mean it? When you said you trained me to get me to shut up about my mortal life?"

He turned his face away, stalling.

"I thought I was going with you. I thought—"

"Be realistic." Death flattened his hand on the wall beside my head. "No amount of training would allow you to win against an ancient creature like Ahrimad, or a demigod like my father, or, for the matter, me . If I can take my scythe back on the full moon, I can avoid entering the otherworld altogether."

"And what if you fail? What if you epically fail like you did in the corn maze against your father? What if the consequences are greater than the risks? Did you ever think about that?"

His temper flared. Shadows bit into my wrists and ankles like thorns on a rose. I writhed against the darkness, but to my frustration, it didn't budge. Death's mouth quirked up on one side as he witnessed the struggle.

"I told you," I said in a huff, "I've had a gut feeling we're supposed to follow Ace's vision. I'm supposed to go with you. You might think you're so high and mighty going up against fate, but some of us can't afford the repercussions. I have a family to think about. I have myself . I'm not immortal like you are."

Death's jaw tightened. "You're not strong enough to fight against Ahrimad. End of story."

Neither are you! I so desperately wanted to scream.

"All this time, you never intended to take me with you to fight Ahrimad. You toyed with the idea of it to keep me complacent!" My fingers tingled, power rushing through my veins. Shadows hissed against my hands, retreating down my forearms and freeing my wrists from the wall. Death must have known that I was about to explode again because he struck like a viper and snatched my hands in his.

"Enough," he warned in a low, authoritative voice. "You've only been training defensively for a short time. As long as you have the one thing Ahrimad needs the most, as long as you're the Chosen, the one who can read the Book of the Dead , you've got a massive target on your back."

"You want to talk about risk? All of evil wants a piece of me. I'm not safe anywhere I go. But you, you've kept me . . . relatively safe." Give or take a few villain-esque instances . . . "Even if it's for your own benefit," I added, mostly to remind myself. "And now you're going to hand me off to Lucifer when everything is at stake? You lose your scythe for good, you're donezo. Then what? Everyone gets so hung up on the consequences of magic, but what happens when Death himself is gone? Open your eyes, Death. Every time we are apart, things take a turn for the worse. We're stronger together."

Death released my hands at once and took a step back.

A lump formed in my throat at the rejection. "You saw what Malphas was able to do to my mind. Who's to say they won't figure out a way to reach me from inside this penthouse? Who's to say Ahrimad won't make his move the second he knows you've handed me off to somebody else?"

Death raked a hand through his hair. "Even if I wanted to take you with me," he said, biting off the reluctant words, "Lucifer would never allow it."

"Ah, so that's why you didn't tell Lucifer about Ace's vision. Lucifer's got you with your tail between your legs—"

"Watch it." Shadows curled over Death's broad shoulders and cracked at the air like whips. His deep voice altered to a monstrous, otherworldly snarl. "I obey Lucifer's command out of respect. A concept you, an impertinent little mortal brat, know nothing about." A sharp smirk edged his mouth. "I am pleased to see that I've finally broken you down to anger rather than pitiful tears, but I would think twice as to what you do with this anger next—"

Death's sentence cut off as I placed my hand on his chest. Meeting the intensity of his gaze, I slowly lifted my fingers up to his face, swiping my thumb over his velvety soft bottom lip. His mouth parted under my touch, revealing the tips of serrated teeth.

"You'll never break me," I whispered. "Not when I own you as much as you own me."

Blackness washed over Death's catlike eyes, dispersing from his vertical pupils into the white sclera. He inhaled a rough breath. The darkness swiftly retreated to where it belonged, but it was never far away.

He moved closer. He must have because I was suddenly consumed by him. My fingers shifted from his mouth across the rough stubble on his jaw and into the back of his silken hair. He was a god up close. A masterpiece. A poison. He was everything, and no matter how much I tried to deny it, I wanted all of him and, selfishly, more. His head dipped until his mouth hovered over mine, his undead heart pounding against my palm.

"If you ever lay a claim on me like that again," Death said, "be prepared to prove it." The low, dangerous rasp of his threat dripped with a dark, carnal intention that speared my core.

But I wouldn't let him get the upper hand. "All this time, you were training me for nothing. You lied to me, but that's not what hurts the most." I stared deep into his wicked eyes, daring to meet his evil soul. "It was the look on your face when Lucifer commanded you to tell me the truth. It was the second of hesitation where you didn't know which secret to share."

Death's face remained unmoved, but the knob in his throat dipped as he swallowed.

"Someone is at the front door, King D."

The panel beside the door lit up as his security system notified him. Frowning, Death jabbed a gloved finger into the screen. The camera pointing into the hallway outside his penthouse displayed footage of the entryway. All we could see was a playing card in front of the lens.

"Ace of spades," I said with a smile.

Death released a small snarl and stormed down the hall. He threw open his front door so hard that he broke the doorstop.

"Ah, I sense I am interrupting an important conversation!" announced a familiar French-accented voice. "Allow me to, how you say, stir the pot ."

Ace shouldered Death to the side as he swaggered into the penthouse like he owned the place. Wearing an oversized white-and-gray faux-fur winter coat over an all-white suit, the man dripped lavish elegance.

" Ma chérie , you look magnificent." He bent over my hand to kiss the back of it. Over the warlock's shoulder, Death's eyes went feral. As if sensing the Grim Reaper's rage, Ace lowered his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give me a playful wink. "Ready for our hot date?"

Ace's timing could not have been any more perfect.

"Sure am!" I said cheerfully.

Death produced an inhuman noise that landed between a bestial growl and a menacing hiss. "The fuck she is. Get out of my goddamn house."

Death stormed toward the warlock, but Ace turned sharply around, striking the Grim Reaper hard in the side. Power exploded. Death grunted as his massive frame was thrown back, magic bolting him to the wall behind him.

I covered my mouth with my hand to suppress a gasp.

"Tsk-tsk," Ace said. "A deal is a deal, Alex ."

God, this was perfect.

I put a finger to my chin, appreciating how similar this was to the position Death had had me trapped in moments before. "Karma is a bitch, ain't it, big boy?"

Death strained against the binds on his wrists so hard that the tendons in his neck and shoulders bulged. "You wait until I get my hands on you, cupcake."

His untraceable accent had thickened, and the threat swept over me like a stroke of heat.

"Our carriage awaits," Ace said, ushering me forward. "Should you need us, don't. I'll be wooing Faith tirelessly until midnight."

Death spat a foreign sentence, at which Ace laughed. He twirled me into the hallway like we were dancing, slamming the penthouse door closed behind us.

We rode the elevator down, all smiles and giggles. Outside, a limo waited. Ace opened the door in a gentlemanly manner and helped me inside.

"He's going to kill you, you know," I said.

"Eh, he can get in line. I'd give him an hour or two until he breaks free of those bonds. By then, we'll be in my shop, safe and sound." Ace shrugged out of his fur coat. "Gods, that thing is hot."

"All this just to piss Death off, huh?"

"Absolutely." Ace snapped his fingers, and the limo rolled forward. "I'm embarrassed that I was ever friends with the selfish prick. Death possessing my body was low, even for him, so I appreciate your assistance in settling the score."

I wanted to know more about Death and Ace's feud, but my own emotional distress from the day caught up with me. "Anything to get the hell away from him."

Ace hung his arms over the seats behind him. "Trouble in paradise?"

"If by ‘paradise' you're referring to my prison sentence with a psychotic Grim Reaper, then yes, loads of trouble." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Your vision didn't land well. He had me convinced he was training me to go with him to get his scythe."

The rest of the car ride to Pleasant Valley, I gossiped with Ace about how Death had wasted my time, leaving out everything about our meeting with Lucifer and the Book of the Dead . Frankly, the book was the last thing on planet Earth that I wanted to talk about. I told him about Marcy and how she'd been the only reason I'd signed with Death in the first place, and at least now she was safe. When I mentioned her kidnapping, Ace jutted his head forward and frowned in puzzlement.

"You will have to tell me more about this friend later," he said.

When we arrived at Ace's shop in Pleasant Valley, he took me by the elbow to guide me inside. Warmth passed from his body to mine, and oddly it calmed me.

"It must be difficult for you, coming back to Pleasant Valley."

"Death said that they brainwashed my parents. Made them think I'm in an advanced college art program. Do you think you can take me to visit them?"

"The mind is a delicate place, Faith. I could take you to see your parents, but you would risk confusing them to an unsurmountable degree."

I took a long, deep breath. "I don't think now is the safest time to see them anyway."

We strode through the shop, entering the cavernous space of his library. The only sound between us was the clack of his dress shoes against marble.

The warlock slid my arm from his elbow and held my hand. "All of this stress and emotional turmoil is affecting your mental health. I am sure it is affecting your ability too. I'm sorry I cannot be more helpful with your situation."

"It's not your fault I sold my soul," I said bitterly. "Very little doesn't affect my ability these days. Death has barely taught me to control it. We've mostly been practicing self-defense so I can protect myself. Death's boot camp, if you will."

Ace turned toward me before parting the curtains in front of his séance room and arching a brow. "Has Death been patient with you?"

I burst out laughing. I mean, I had to. "Hell no! The guy went on a wild rampage the other day because I drank half a glass of his chocolate milk. He's literally just a bigger, cloaked, more terrifying version of a bitchy old cat, and nobody can convince me otherwise."

"Why do you think Death isn't helping you with your power?" Ace asked.

Turning toward the warlock, I had a strong feeling that he already knew the answer. "Besides the fact that he likes to watch me suffer, has no emotional empathy, and is literally the second-in-command of Satan, so he's still my enemy? No idea." I heaved in a breath. "It's like he's . . . " Everything seemed to click into place, stunning me into silence. "Afraid. Afraid to get too close. When he's teaching me self-defense, it's so second nature to him that it's predictable. Everything is calculated. Especially the distance he puts between us."

"And the light that comes from you is more unpredictable," Ace reflected. "It requires a more personal, unique approach."

"Exactly. I think he's afraid my power will get into his head again, so he's wary of getting too close. He's afraid to . . . to even touch me."

"Well, that may be for the best. If Death touches a living creature with his hands for too long, it dies," Ace elucidated, and I felt my heart sink into my stomach. The reminder of why he wore those black leather gloves was depressing.

A figure skirted my peripheral vision. I turned my head to look down the aisle of books behind us, and I stilled as I caught the silver eyes of Master Vampire Duncan, the vampire Death and I had crossed paths with in Ace's club.

"Get a good earful?" I sneered before I could stop myself.

"Just enjoying some literature, love. Say hello to your zombie boyfriend for me, would you?" He pushed a book, which I was certain he hadn't read, back into a shelf. Then he strode to the other end of the library and shoved open a velvet curtain against the wall before he disappeared inside.

"Stupid fang-face," I said. "He was totally eavesdropping."

Ace folded his arms, his head still turned in the direction the vampire had gone. "It appears so . . . "

"Aren't you going to do something about it?"

"Can't. He's a member of Spades; he's allowed to visit my library." Ace didn't seem happy about that rule as he threw open a different set of purple velvet curtains against the wall. "Let us continue our conversation in my séance room, where it's private. Also, have you ever had the Taco Bell?"

While Ace placed our order on his phone, I wandered around the room looking at all the ancient-looking artifacts. I stopped in front of a glass case and leaned in, taking in the small pendant inside. I'd seen this the last time I'd been here.

The warlock limped over to me and leaned on his cane. "The barracuda," Ace said, sliding his free hand into his pocket. "Beautiful as it is dangerous. Suits you, oui ?"

I could feel him staring at me intently, and I laughed shyly. "Suave."

Ace's smirk broadened, illuminating his handsome features. "Barracudas are notorious for intensifying emotions, which is why many novice magic users give up on them. But given some adjustment time, they become one with their wearer. They are incredible conduits of inner strength from the heart chakra." He touched his own chest and smiled down at me. "Wear it well, ma chérie ."

I frowned, then looked back at the glass case. The pendant had vanished.

Something cold pressed against my cleavage. The barracuda was now around my neck below my communion cross.

"What's the deal with you and Death?" I asked later, as Ace and I feasted on our smorgasbord of Taco Bell. "I know you two aren't on the best of terms, but he must trust you if he called to you for help from Limbo."

"Due to moral clashing between magic users and humans in this realm, there aren't many neutral warlocks like me anymore. See, in my business, the good guys would never involve themselves with Death, and the bad guys, they're too greedy to trust to get the job done. Therefore, I'm one of the finest, most convenient options."

I narrowed my eyes and took another bite of my Crunchwrap. "You know I'm not an idiot, right? You evaded my question."

Ace sighed and sipped his Baja Blast. "Ma chérie . . . "

"What? You're the one who teased me about being his friend once."

"Because I knew the only way you would trust me quickly was to make myself relevant to your problem."

"Why does everybody insist on keeping things from me?"

"I am more than happy to answer any questions about wielding your power. Other than that, there are some stones better left unturned."

"Oh, come on!" I exclaimed. "I played along with you at the penthouse and riled him up about this date. Now I gotta go back and face the psycho. The least you can do is give me some juicy gossip out of this."

Ace unwrapped a supreme taco, not meeting my eyes. "You're telling me, in all the time you've spent with him, he's told you nothing about me?"

I nodded. Ace scoffed and muttered a bitter phrase in French.

"Death doesn't exactly enjoy talking about his past," I said to soothe his hurt.

Ace raked a hand through his colorful hair. "Getting him to trust anyone, let alone open up—"

"Is like pulling fangs," I finished. "Oh, I know. Death opening up means all of his cryptic intentions could get exposed too. Hence, he doesn't tell me shit."

Feeling much more trusting of Ace, I finally told him about the meeting with Lucifer and Death, and how Death had lied about training me to come with him to stop Ahrimad. "When Lucifer told Death to tell me the truth, Death hesitated, like he didn't know which truth Lucifer wanted him to share. I can't shake the feeling that whatever he withheld, it's important."

Ace absently drew a shape on the table with his finger. "I believe I can help you."

"Really?"

"Yes, but I need to tell you my own truth first." Violet eyes flicked up to mine. "Every spell I cast has a consequence, you see. With the smaller spells, I am able to swiftly redirect those consequences the best that I can to ensure the safety of others. The larger spells aren't so easy. Redirecting their consequences takes a lot of patience and research, and I didn't always have the luxury of patience. My father taught me the craft of magic at a very young age, back when we would only use minor spells for medicinal purposes. He was my only family, and then he was taken from me suddenly. Murdered, by witch hunters . . . " Ace shut his eyes, as though reliving the anguish all over again. "I will spare you the details of the macabre story."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Ace rubbed the heel of his palm against his heart. "I tried to bring my father back from the dead and failed. In my desperation, I conjured a dark spell far beyond my capabilities, and that too failed. The consequences of that spell transformed into a severe psychosomatic injury." He kicked out his weaker leg. "When I use this leg, I feel nothing but pain. It is not an ailment of the body, but of the mind. Whatever this is, I've managed to slow down the progression, but as of late it has worsened. I need your help, Faith."

"How?"

Ace laced his fingers together, leaning forward on the table. "I know you can read the Book of the Dead ."

"Oh my God. You too?"

"Listen to me: I will not take advantage of you," Ace insisted. "I need only one page. One page to reverse this injury and rid myself of this damned cane. I've been in pain for so long. So long. There are days where I feel like I am a prisoner in my own body, and those days have outnumbered the ones that I don't. You can free me, Faith."

I felt for him, really I did, but I didn't know what to think. What if he was lying? What if this was another trick?

"At what cost?" I whispered.

"All I would need is for you to translate the page," Ace explained. "You would write the spell on a piece of paper. I would handle it from there."

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Not for me, but for you. You're seeking an answer from a book that's forbidden for a reason—"

"Do you want to know Death's secret or not?" Ace pressed.

When I said nothing, the warlock rose from his seat and limped over to a stove. He flicked on the burner and took a pitcher of water from the fridge beside it to pour water.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Making you tea. One that will help induce your visions. You may make your decision by the time I've made the cup."

I stood, curled a stray piece of hair behind my ear, and crossed the room to him. "Is that ginger?" I asked, pointing to a light-brown root-looking thing.

"That would be galangal root," Ace answered as he crushed ingredients with a mortar and pestle of brown stone. "It's in the ginger family." He paused his crushing to tilt the bowl toward me. "I will also add kava kava."

"Kava kava?"

"Oh, yes." His violet eyes flicked to me, mischievous. "Kava kava is abused as an aphrodisiac by some magic users. I will only use it to induce visions in you. I drink this all the time, no worries." He reached for a plant under a pink grow light and plucked out some leaves.

"Mint?"

"For taste," Ace explained. "I'll put it in a tea bag and steep it, just like a normal tea. This is a much better alternative than our last encounter in the séance room, oui ?"

I agreed. The gladiatorial memory with Alexandru Cruscellio and what happened afterward had been utter chaos.

Ace pointed to a small pot that sat over a flameless burner next to a whistling kettle. "I'm also making a valerian and skullcap tea." He stuffed the smashed ingredients in the bowl into a tea bag. "If you come off the potion in a panic, this tea will relax you."

"What if I want to stop the effects of the potion immediately?"

"You cannot stop it once it begins." Ace poured some boiling water into a cup. "You must let it fade. Should I take your interest as a yes, Faith? Will you help me if I help you?"

Taking the tea from Ace, I made my decision. "Yes."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, and he bent to briefly kiss my hand in a gesture of appreciation. "You might feel loopy. Then you will succumb to the spell, and I will walk you through a visualization. Now to activate the potion."

Ace cupped his hands around the top. He murmured some words, and his eyes flashed white. He pulled back sharply from the mug, and the drink roared. Threw-my-hair-back roared.

"Quelle horreur!" Ace exclaimed. He combed his fingers through his wind-blown hair to fix it and then grinned. "It's perfect!" He picked up the cup and held it out for me. It was a little milky, with specks of gray.

"No freaking way, man."

Ace chuckled. "You must take a sip quickly, before it congeals."

I couldn't stop grimacing. "Can you maybe give me a countdown?"

" Three , two , one , now," Ace said quickly, then cupped the back of my head and brought the drink to my lips. I took a big gulp. The acidic, slimy texture caught in my throat a little. I heaved but managed to keep it down.

"Disgusting," I coughed out. "Mint . . . did nothing . Dizzy. Room is spinning."

"I have you, don't worry," Ace said, taking my elbow in a firm hand as he guided me back to my chair. "In order to unravel a secret through your power of sight, the Spirits will need the context of a specific moment between you and Death. One where you questioned his intentions."

"Jesus. Help me narrow it down, will you?"

Ace worked his jaw. "All right, I will. How about when you lost your friend Marcy and signed the contract? Do you remember how he was behaving that day?"

I remembered his surreptitious grin. The one Death wore as I'd signed away my soul. He'd acted so strange afterward. Like there was no sense of urgency to save Marcy.

Marcy .

My vision strobed in and out.

And then I was elsewhere.

I was standing on the roof of the D&S Tower. Death stood about ten feet away with his back to me, and in front of him loomed a figure in red.

Lucifer .

The scene warped nonstop around the edges, and I could barely hear their quiet conversation. Only a single sentence before the scene dissipated.

". . . stage an attack with Malphas and frighten her," Death said.

Now I was standing in my front yard watching a menacing, hooded figure approach my bedroom window. Judging by his broad back and immense frame, it was Death. He wrenched open my bedroom window with ease, as the lock had already been broken. Peering into the dimly lit room, he paused, his head turning toward my bed. I could see myself stir. I was asleep.

Death held out his gloved hand toward Marcy, shadows pooling like wisps in the air. She awakened with a start.

"Come to me," Death commanded in a whisper.

Marcy crawled through the window obediently, her eyes glazed over. Dawn began to break as she crossed the dewy lawn. Death murmured foreign words beneath his breath, and the surroundings shifted like a mirage. Ravens. They were all around, circling like vultures. Looking up at the sky, Death slowly pulled down his hood, his mouth still moving in what appeared to be a spell. Mismatched green eyes were consumed by darkness as his appearance altered to his father's . . .

"Faith," cried a voice in the distance, and I watched myself run across the lawn after Marcy. The raw panic wracking my expression brought me back to all the pain and anxiety I'd felt that day. The desperation of signing my soul over.

And it'd been a trick.

Another twisted trick.

Another lie.

"Faith!"

My entire body jolted. My surroundings strobed in and out between reality and the past. Violet eyes. I warped back to the present, crouched over Ace's body with my fingers curled tightly around his throat. White glowed from my fingers, burning into his flesh.

"Ma chérie," Ace choked out, helpless beneath me.

I managed to tear myself away from Ace, my chest heaving. "I can't . . . control it."

Clutching at his bloody throat, Ace cautiously climbed to his feet. His violet eyes widened as he took in my power. "You're okay, ma chérie . You're safe."

"No, I'm not okay!" I gasped, tears raining down into my sweat-soaked collar as I squeezed my eyes shut. "He tricked me! Again! "

Ace rubbed my back in soothing circles. "I can help you get through this, but you need to take a deep breath. Take a few deep breaths with me, then we'll get the calming tea."

But I couldn't breathe . I couldn't breathe. Hurt. Betrayal. Fury . Heat fanned the side of my sweaty face, willing me to open my eyes again. The room. It had been set ablaze with a rampant fire as fierce and violent as the energy within me.

"Did I do this?" I whispered in horror.

"You unleashed your light during the vision," Ace replied grimly. "It appears the barracuda is enhancing your emotions. This is the rare side effect that I mentioned that will pass, but it's best if you take it off." He held out his palm, his voice softening. "Unclasp the necklace, ma chérie ."

Black dots splotched my vision as I held up a fist of fire instead. "Get back. Get back! " And Ace did. "All you people do is use me. You're just like him!"

" Ma chérie , please." Ace clutched his heart in earnest, and we both coughed wildly from the rising smoke. "I understand you are in pain, but you are not yourself right now. I would never hurt you, not like he would. I am your friend. We need to leave this room."

My attention snapped away as Trixie burst into the room. Ace's bodyguard. Her ferocious eyes ignited as she took in the flames before narrowing in on me with a snarl.

"Trixie, no !" Ace shouted.

Trixie's fingers flung two knives in my direction. Time seemed to slow as I lifted my palm, white light expelling from my hand. The first knife veered off course, landing in the wall beside my head, while the second ricocheted off my power and came back at her.

Shock turned into anger as the knife cut deep into her bicep.

When she went for her gun, Ace launched into action. Magenta magic swirled into the air like a whip as he knocked the weapon from her hand. "You'll kill her!" he reprimanded.

Pulling Trixie's knife out of the wall, I vaulted over the séance table and hurled myself toward an exit. I cast one last look at the burning room and Ace's disturbed violet eyes before shouldering open the scalding metal door and booking it to the back parking lot.

Rain speared down as I sprinted through a tight gap between two buildings. The feeling that I was being followed clung to my spine, shadows crawling down the brick walls on either side of me. I broke free into the street. No matter how fast I ran, darkness followed.

I tore into a walking path between a pizzeria and a thrift store. There were apartments above each building, with fire escapes. Stuffing the knife in the waistband of my pants, I sprang up onto a dumpster and jumped onto a fire escape ladder, pulling it down with an upper body strength I'd once lacked. I climbed up high, the barracuda burning against my chest as my rage took me higher and higher. When I looked down past the railing of the metal stairs, whatever shadows lingered below vanished like smoke.

Footsteps echoed on the rusty metal steps below. Slow and calculated, akin to the sly grace of an alley cat slinking behind a dumpster to hook a mouse.

I backed up to the center of the roof. Rain misted my eyelashes, and an eerie haze curled over the black tar like a scene from a horror film.

The rain curiously slowed. Cold slipped down my spine as I sensed his presence behind me.

"What happened?" The deep snarl of Death's voice carried with it a clap of thunder in the night. "What did he do?"

" You ," I seethed. "You did this to me." My throat felt so tight, I could hardly get the words out. "Lucifer told you to tell me the truth, but you left out your favorite part, didn't you? The part where you tricked me into signing away my soul."

The silence that ensued confirmed he knew what I meant. My limbs vibrated with the anticipation of unleashing my violence.

"I swear to God, if you lied to me about Marcy being safe . . . if anything happened to her at your hand—"

"Marcy is fine," Death said. "She is unharmed and in Pleasant Valley. She never left." Darkness swallowed the roof around my shoes, and I could feel him closing in like a shark. "I will remind you that despite your little date, I warned you about going to the warlock for information on me. Tell me what you offered him."

"Go the hell." I spun and slashed the blade as I went. He was gone.

Motion in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Death manifested a dozen feet away, casually leaning against the door to the roof. His mismatched eyes, iridescent in the night, narrowed to the barracuda around my neck.

"Cupcake," he purred.

"Asshole."

He raised the scarred, pierced brow. "Did you just try to kill me, pumpkin?"

I ran my finger over the blade. "I tried to slit your throat."

Death strode forward and circled me at a distance, and I fell in step, countering his predatory dance. "Ah, a barracuda . Explains your bizarre affect. Let me guess, a bonus after your exchange with the warlock?"

My molars ground together as I tried to keep it together.

"You denied Lucifer," Death continued. "What did you expect would happen? He'd let you go on your merry way? He gave me orders to make you compliant. I implemented them."

"You . . . had . . . a choice ."

"Yes, I did," Death admitted. "Getting you to sign with a lie was a mercy. Would you rather I'd harmed someone you loved? Be grateful I didn't."

"Don't act like you have any compassion in you," I hissed. "You have no heart, no spine, no feeling. You're an undying freak of nature!"

He flinched, a sliver of emotion slipping through his mask before his features hardened to cold marble. My pendant burned so painfully that I gasped and clutched at it. Death's gaze clung to the movement like a hawk.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said in a low, commanding voice. "I'm taking you back to my apartment. Then I'm going to rip off that necklace. I will give you one chance to come willingly. Otherwise, I will drag you kicking and screaming."

"Oh yeah?" I picked dirt under my nail with the blade, unbothered.

"Yeah," Death growled, the air crackling from his irritation.

"You're going to have to make me, then," I said as the pendant burned against my throat again. "Because I'm not going anywhere with you, and I'm not resting until I hurt you. Hurt you like you've hurt me."

Death's beautifully constructed fa?ade cracked a little again. A mistake on his part. I could feel the anger come alive within me, and I captured the vulnerability.

"You want to hurt me, Faith? Fine, I'll let you. But not here. We'll do this at my penthouse, where it's safer."

"Clean out your ancient ears, Alex," I said through a tight throat. "I'm not going anywhere with you. We're done."

Death's head dipped down at my use of his mortal name, and a chill climbed my spine. Against the moonlight, his fangs flashed like serrated knives. "Kicking and screaming it is, then."

I launched toward him first. He expected my attacks, anticipating them faster than humanly possible, allowing each assault and then dodging them accordingly. My blade swung faster and faster. We fought to a rhythm, a dangerous dance akin to our sparring sessions.

When I reached peak exhaustion, he swatted me away in a casual manner, like a fly.

"It is a barracuda," Death commented, folding his powerful arms as I struggled to catch my breath. "And to think I was almost stunned by your boost in coordination."

"Fuck you," I hissed.

Without Death moving from where he stood in front of me, I felt his breath fan the back of my neck, his rasping laugh like a dark melody. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I spun around with my weapon, metal slicing into cold air as I tried to stab his duplicate. Gone. Both of them were gone, but his scent lingered. My chest heaved with each violent tug of air into my lungs.

"Over here."

I slashed out to my left. Death's massive fist caught my wrist before the blade came down at his throat. He bent my hand backward, black claws extending from his fingertips, shredding his leather gloves like they were made of tissue paper.

We remained stuck in the air, my dagger aimed at his head and his claws aimed at mine.

"Where did you get this dagger, anyway?" Death asked, his manner of speaking infuriatingly casual.

"I stole it off Trixie. Right after I lit Ace's palm-reading room on fire."

His eyes widened. "You what ?"

"Guess that squashes all your jealous fantasies of me and him together, huh? Unless we were having hot pyro sex."

"Give a girl a shady necklace and suddenly she has all the confidence in the world," Death growled. "Barracudas notoriously have adverse side effects, which explains your delusion that you can hurt me."

He shoved me back, and the fight resumed. Where I was furious and lashing out wildly, he was calm, calculated, like he was allowing this to keep going. Then the moment arrived where he stopped playing around and took me down with one quick, hard hit to my neck with the side of his hand. I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air.

"Need a break, baby?" he taunted.

The next time I was up, Death was mine. Light unexpectedly ignited as I struck him hard in the chest. He stumbled back a few feet, and for the first time, the impact of my punch actually landed on the Grim Reaper. Either it had caught him off guard or my power had affected him, because he wheezed in a ragged breath.

" You need a break, baby?" I asked, flipping a piece of hair out of my face. "You can go get another lip piercing and then come back."

He lifted two fingers, inclined them toward himself, and gnashed his fangs. "I'd rather give you one right now."

I charged. He threw up his forearms like an offensive lineman's block. We were close to the edge of the roof. I took my left hand and held on to one of his arms. Then I used my right hand to strike first his elbow joint and then his neck, as he'd struck mine. I slipped to the side, pushed his elbow down and away, caught his head, and used all my strength to drop my weight, flip him over, and roll us both back onto the ground. Now he was beneath me, and I was straddling his waist.

"I thought there was a chance," I said, too pissed to be pleased with myself. "I thought that deep down there was still life in you. But you're a cold monster from the inside out. Pure evil."

Death slid out from beneath me and enfolded me in his massive arms. My weapon vanished. He crushed me against him and held me down with his weight, strong hips digging into mine.

"Does that feel cold to you?" Death growled.

Heat splayed over my sweaty skin, the feeling of his body against mine almost too much to bear. "Don't ever, ever expect me help you again," I seethed. "Because the next time something doesn't go your way, I'm going to step back . . . and let it happen !" I used all my strength to shove his heavy weight off me, reached for my weapon on the ground, and wrestled him onto his back again.

"I was willing to help you," I continued as we grappled for the weapon. "I wanted to help you get back that damned scythe. But all you care about is yourself and Lucifer—"

"Yeah, you got me pinned down, cupcake," Death said sarcastically. "I don't give a shit about Lucifer, and he doesn't give a shit about me. That's why he hasn't lifted a finger to help me get my scythe."

I stilled at his words, my hair falling around my face and curtaining around his head. "Then why are you working with him?"

Death stared at me, like he'd said far too much. My heart fell into my stomach. His answer was about me.

"Because I keep my enemies close, Faith." Death sat up, and I inhaled sharply as the change in position made me fully straddle his lap, but when I tried to get off, his hands clutched my hips. "You're not so innocent in this game either, you know. All you've wanted is to feel like you're not different. You joined me because you had to, but you kissed me because I'm your favorite poison. I'm so screwed up and fucked in the head, it makes you feel better about yourself. What kind of person does that make you? Desperate? No. Cruel . Lonely people love convenience. Isn't that what you said?"

Then he grinned, and I felt like his best creation yet.

"I know you," Death purred. "Better than you know yourself––"

"Then you should know that I loved you!" I said fiercely, and his smile fell. "Despite it all, I was stupid enough to care, and you cut me deep anyway."

Tears ran down my cheeks, but I didn't care.

Death vigorously shook his head, his hands sliding to my waist. "What do you want from me, Faith?"

"I want you to feel . You pierced your knife straight through my heart and you keep twisting the blade. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you? "

Death clutched my hand in his and punched my fist forward. My eyes opened wide, darkness pouring off his body as the shock of the moment registered. He lowered his upper body to the ground so I leaned over him, and we both stared at the blade I'd buried deep into his heart.

"Now I do," Death growled tightly. "Twist it."

I couldn't have imagined a more deranged way to apologize than to stab yourself in the heart.

Suddenly, his muscles tightened, his head thrashed back against the roof, and the muscles in his neck strained. His eyes rapidly dilated, filling with panic. " Shit , Faith."

"What's happening?" I demanded.

"Losing control." He tossed me off him. I rolled onto the ground and stayed there, my head turning toward him in confusion. "Run!" Death snarled, his deep voice undulating with something monstrous beneath it. "Get back!"

But I couldn't move. Death writhed and groaned in agony, and I grimaced at the sound of joints and bones shifting within him. His shirt stretched and tore as his muscles bulged and his already massive physique grew . When he lifted his head, his features were too sharp, too wicked, too alien to resemble a human. His tan skin had almost entirely turned the color of coal, and his mismatched green eyes glowed with power.

I scrambled backward and tried to get up to run, but the monster lunged forward and grasped my ankle, talons digging into my flesh. I hit the ground. My lower back skinned against the pavement as he dragged me toward him and crawled on top of me like a big, muscular cat.

I slammed my fist into Death's concrete features. The bones in my fingers shattered with a sickening crunch, and my breath caught in my throat in a choked sob. I opened my hand, dizziness overcoming my vision as broken bones slid right back into place.

The discoloration on Death's skin began to fade, as if he were snapping out of it, but then the darkness returned, and his mismatched eyes glowed like firestorms. He pinned me down and roared into my face with a mouthful of fangs. This wasn't Death. I found my fear, abandoned at the bottom of my soul, and it surfaced at full force. He would kill me.

My fear triggered my power: my light shot him directly in the leg, and the monster cried out. Then he grabbed me in a way that left me defenseless and tossed me like a rag doll. I slammed into the small wall at the edge of the roof with a sickening smack and rolled off the ledge, dropping, then luckily—but painfully—landing on the top platform of the fire escape.

White-hot pain sparked from my back, my shoulder, my arm, and my wrist, which was bent at an awkward angle beneath me. Bile rose in my throat. I was certain my arm was broken, my shoulder had popped out, and my wrist had snapped like a toothpick. I clamped down on my bottom lip with my teeth. I tasted blood. The platform shifted. I stiffened. Something had broken loose on the old, rusted fire escape.

I slid down as the platform tilted until the fingers of my left hand, my good arm, latched into the gaps in the metal and held on. My legs dangled over the side of the fire escape. I looked down at the ground below, and a droplet of rain hung from my nose.

"Now would be a great time to save me!" I exclaimed.

The fire escape dipped to the left and tilted significantly, and I held on for dear life. My fingers bled, and my arm was beyond tired. I swung my injured arm up from its awkward position and latched on to the fire escape. It felt like my arm had been ripped out of the socket and someone was jackhammering my shoulder blade and my wrist.

"Jesus . . . Christ! DEATH! "

Two marked hands smacked down the platform in front of my face, and the fire escape hit the point of no return. It let loose from the wall, and I lost my grip and fell into the alleyway. The ground came at me at fast, but I never hit the pavement. An arm caught me around the waist and cradled me against a strong chest.

"Wrong." I looked up into two mismatched green eyes. He wasn't all there. The night was still washing away from his beautiful features. "Let's go home."

He summoned his motorcycle from the shadows of the alleyway and rode it out onto the street. We sped out of Pleasant Valley toward New York City. The long, exhausting ride seemed to go faster on the back of his bike. We were both still seething from the argument and soaked by rain.

Back at the penthouse, I tried not to cry as I nursed my injured shoulder.

Death bit down on his wrist and poured his black blood into a shot glass.

"Drink," he said gruffly. "It'll heal you."

The last time he'd given me his blood, I'd gotten high as a kite. I hesitated, but pain radiated through almost every part of my body. I brought the glass to my lips and downed it fast. Pain shifted to pleasure, but I shoved it down.

"What about you?" I asked tightly.

"I'm fine." He slammed the fridge door, having taken out two plastic-wrapped T-bone steaks in one hand and two cartons of chocolate milk in the other. He cut open the plastic with a talon and stuck a knife in the steak like he was planning on eating it raw. I wanted to ask him about what had happened back in Pleasant Valley. How he'd almost lost control, and I was starting to see more of that beastly side of him than, well, him .

"I want to keep training," I said instead. "Now that I can read the Book of the Dead , it's more important than ever that I'm able to defend myself." I took a deep breath. "But I think it's best we stay out of each other's way."

With his back still to me, Death set aside his bizarre meal and braced his gloved hands on either side of the sink. "Long as you stay out of mine."