III

Faith

A blustery blast of air swirled through my bedroom window, startling me into an awareness that I was no longer alone. I stuffed the dagger quickly beneath my leg.

"Bonjour, mon ange!"

I whipped my head from the window and met the bright violet eyes of the man now standing in my room. Everything still felt dreamlike, detached, and in my brief dissociation, I didn't think he was real. The warlock from the Crossroads bookshop wore a purple satin suit jacket with an ornate Victorian tapestry vest beneath. Luxurious black velvet lapels and metal buttons down the center decorated the vest. His pants matched the obsidian fabric lining the jacket.

"Ace?"

He bowed theatrically and twisted his hand in a fast gesture, producing a red rose from thin air. " Ton sourire est un don. Your smile is a gift."

"What—what are you doing here? In my bedroom?" I inhaled the fragrance of the flower's petals, which blossomed to life in my hand.

Ace checked his watch.

" Oh là là. We are going to be late! We should leave as soon as possible. Dès que possible ." Those colorful eyes drifted over my clothes, which still showed signs of the attack in the corn maze. "First, I will need to cook you up something creative to wear"—he tapped my knee playfully with the large octagon-shaped crystal at the head of his golden cane—"since I'm your dashing date for tonight!"

I swung my legs over the bed, tucking the blade discreetly into the back of my jeans. "Now hold on, Frenchy. You're the escort Malphas mentioned? The one who's supposed to make sure I get the job done tonight?"

Ace removed his top hat, running his hand through his colorful hair, and studied my clothes again. "Perhaps this color for you, oui ?" He smoothed out the lapels of his extravagant purple jacket. "Although, I do fear that Death would prefer a depressing obsidian with skulls and gore adorning your gown . . . "

Ace pointed at me with his cane as though to do something to my clothes, but I swatted his hand away.

"I asked you a question, Ace. Since when are you working for Malphas?"

"Do not worry about my role, ma chérie . Why don't you remind me what yours is tonight instead? Malphas did explain the plan, didn't he?"

The cold dagger pressed against my hip, reminding me what I'd been asked to do.

"I was told to attend the D&S Tower ball," I said. "If I come into close contact with Death, I'm supposed to incapacitate him with a poisonous blade so that Malphas can crash Lucifer's party."

Ace stared down at me, his expression impenetrable.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Aren't you in on this? What happened back there with Malphas? With that—ticking thing?" I pulled the dagger out of my jeans and held it up. "And seriously? A dagger? What is this, Macbeth ? It's the twenty-first century, and I'm up against the Angel of Death. You could have at least given me a military tank or a wrecking ball. Or one of those fancy drones, so I could attack him from very, very far away."

When Ace didn't respond again, I raised my eyebrows.

"Did you really think you could get me to poison Death? First of all, I can barely endure the pain of plucking my own chin hairs, let alone killing someone, and second, the guy can bench-press me with his pinky. Now, don't get me wrong, I've done some stupid things these past couple weeks, but I'm pretty sure Death would literally eat me, flesh and bone, if I tried to stab him. He calls me ‘cupcake,' for crying out loud. I'm already walking on thin ice. And last but not least, I don't want to find out how deep Death's fetish for sharp objects and violence goes, so no thank you. I'm out."

"You weren't susceptible to Malphas's hypnosis," Ace said. "He tried to charm you . . . "

A droplet of sweat fell down my forehead. The rant had taken the wind out of me. "Yep, he tried to manipulate me to finish the job for him. Figured it was best to play along with his creepy mind games to avoid getting eaten by that psycho too."

Wrath ignited his violet eyes. "How did you break the charm?" he demanded.

"I pushed back."

"What do you mean, you pushed back?"

I threw my arms into the air. "I don't know the terminology for what I did! I felt Malphas in my head, it hurt—a lot—and then I evicted him."

Ace went quiet again, thinking this over.

"Is Death alive?" I asked.

"Yes."

I slumped against my bedroom wall in relief but kept the knife clenched in my palm. "Malphas persuaded you to help carry out this plan, didn't he?"

Ace had shifted his attention to one of my paintings on the wall, so I could no longer see his face. "And what if he did, Faith?"

"Then neutral force, my ass. I thought you were trying to help me with your little clairvoyant show, but all you're concerned about is yourself and your profit."

"It's not like you've been honest about yourself either, mon ange ." Ace turned his glare on me, and the temperature in the room plummeted a few degrees. "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm on my side! I can't trust any of you. Look at you. You'll do anything for anyone if there's a valuable trade involved. Have some self-respect. What did Malphas offer you, anyway? A World of Warcraft expansion pack? A bag of birdseed?"

"If Death is deprived of souls for small amounts of time, cut off from his reapers and the earthly realm, he will begin to deteriorate and gradually mummify. Tonight may be your only chance to escape him and Lucifer."

"Like you care what happens to me. If I go after Death with this toothpick dagger, he'll rip my head off!"

Ace's hands hovered around the blade in my palm with a pensive expression. He pivoted away from me and slowly walked the perimeter of the room, analyzing every inch of my personal space. Bending down to pick up something on the opposite side of my bed, he rose with my childhood teddy bear, Mr. Wiggles, clutched in his hand. The old, mangled bear was falling apart, his left arm hanging on by a literal thread. He set it down on my bed.

"That dagger is bewitched," Ace said. "It will give your arm unnatural strength and speed when you use it. If he hasn't killed you by now, I have to think he wouldn't tonight. You could still carry out the plan."

"What you're asking me to do is horrible. He hurt me. A lot. But I'd rather find another way out of this mess than make him suffer out of revenge."

Ace walked over to my bedroom window and peered outside. "Yet you assisted Malphas and Ahrimad in their scheme to rip his soul from his body . . . "

"Don't talk to me like you know me, Ace. You don't know anything about me. You have no idea what I've been through these past couple weeks."

"Perhaps you forget your position in this matter." Ace turned his head over his shoulder, lips tight, rigid cords bulging in his tense neck. The lamp on my nightstand hummed, the lightbulb flickering briefly and threatening to burn out. He glided closer. "You owe me a favor, Faith. And you will follow through on your word or you will deal with the repercussions of denying me. Starting with your family."

I pushed off the wall, a bull charging at a red flag. "I swear to God, if you lay one finger on them—"

"You'll what?"

"I'll kill you," I swore.

Ace exploded in strident laughter. "Corner a dog in a dead-end street and it will turn and bite. If you would do as you're told, all of this could have been avoided."

"Sure, blame me for everything!"

"I am so sick of that mouth of yours."

Coldness washed down the back of my neck. I stared into his glaring eyes, and my breath hitched. It couldn't be .

In a leap of faith, I reached up, gripped Ace by both sides of his skull, and crushed his mouth to mine. He froze, and then his hands gripped my waist. A low moan escaped me as he yanked me into him like claiming a feast. Our mouths slanted again, his tongue licking mine—

Suddenly, I was slammed against my bedroom wall with Ace's hand wrapped tightly around my throat, and I was three feet off the ground.

A wicked grin framed Ace's mouth.

" Bonjour , cupcake."