IV

Fury ripped apart Ace's carefully even features, revealing the beast within.

"Now this is satisfying. Having your fragile little virgin neck clutched in my hand." The French accent had departed, exchanged for an all-too-familiar mysterious lilt that stressed and rolled over certain letters with an erotic purr. He cracked his head sharply to the side. "Well," Death growled, "in Ace's hand."

Death.

It was him.

"How?" I bit out.

"Malphas sent my soul to another realm. I had to possess a body to get back here." His fingers tightened, holding me in place with a viselike grip. "Watching you squirm, plead for oxygen with your eyes, it would normally be a turn-on. But not right now. Right now, I'd much rather kill you."

A shadow crept over the whites of his eyes. Through the blotches in my vision, he grinned, and I was sure he would choke me to death.

Instead, he released me.

I crumbled to the wooden floor, clutching my neck as my breath rasped out in rapid pants. Husky laughter tumbled from his throat. "Killing you would be a blessing; it would free you from me. Your punishments are piling up. Don't think for a second I'm not keeping track."

"Never doubted you," I wheezed.

"You wait until I have my body back." A snarl lifted his lips. "I'm putting that feisty mouth of yours to work."

I flashed him a seething look. "In your dreams, death breath."

"Do you have any idea," Ace grated between clenched teeth, crouching down to my level, "what it feels like to get your soul ripped from your body?" His finger hovered over my chest, drawing a shape. "Imagine a dull knife slicing around your heart, slowly cutting you open while you are wide awake, imprisoned in the torment. It is the worst pain conceivable, the most violating act."

"I had no idea what Malphas would do to you—"

He fisted my shirt, pure madness consuming his eyes. "You betrayed me. You knew damn well what you were doing—"

"You betrayed me too!" I tore his fingers away.

We rose to our feet simultaneously, our faces inches apart.

"Calling on Malphas was a mistake," I continued breathlessly, "but I didn't help him do anything to you. Let's get one thing crystal clear. All I want is my life back. It was never my intention to hurt you. You deliberately hurt me! Once I saw you were in pain in that sigil, I tried to save you, and not because you're my most prized possession. I did it because I'm stupid enough to care about you. When I was hurting, when I was really hurting and vulnerable and defenseless, you didn't give a shit ! You walked away and had a good laugh about a job well done! How am I more in the wrong here? Tell me!"

He wet his lower lip with his tongue. "Aw, are you going to cry? Do you want your precious sheltered life back, angel? Your life is never going to be the same. In fact, I fully intend to make it worse."

My hand cracked across his face.

He clutched at his jaw and worked it, freeing a frightening laugh. The bedroom darkened, shadow consuming the ceiling until it looked like a black void.

Death came at me at full force, and I backpedaled, slamming into the wall as he ripped through my personal space and planted his hands on either side of my head. "The things I would do to you if I didn't need you— argh !"

Suddenly, Death staggered, grimacing as his whole body locked up. He released a low growl, and my fingers gripped the dagger. I contemplated stabbing him now. Stabbing him while I had the chance to save myself.

"Ace is kicking you out, isn't he?" I asked instead.

"He's . . . trying." He took three hard inhales through his nose and exhales out his mouth. The fight seemed to pass as his shoulders relaxed again. Hissing a foreign sentence to himself, Death stalked the width of my small bedroom back and forth.

"You said you need me," I said, tucking the dagger back into my jeans. "I'm assuming you need my help getting your corpse back."

"Not just my corpse, my scythe ," Death snarled, his fury at full force again. "Ahrimad is free. I suspect he's feeding off my scythe's power to remain corporeal. Once he finds a way to stay corporeal in the mortal realm without the blade, we're all screwed."

A realization struck me. "This is what Malphas meant when he told me he was the least of our worries now. He was talking about Ahrimad. It was never about you; it was about bringing Ahrimad back." I maneuvered away from the wall to stand closer to him at the center of the room. "Why are you trying to bring me to the ball? To use me as bait?"

"No. I wanted to keep you by my side so I can protect you. Then you started babbling about Malphas and an escort, so I played along to get more information." His gaze held mine for an intense beat. "But don't get it twisted. I plan on keeping you safe tonight so that I can punish you myself after I get my corpse back."

I sifted through my mental bucket list: Make the Grim Reaper fantasize about torturing me a trillion different ways . Check! "I guess chivalry is dead after all."

"I could go on, and in great detail, believe me." He stopped pacing back and forth and settled for circling me. My chest heaved. If I stabbed him to get away, it was game over. I stealthily gripped the blade at my hip again. "Would you like to hear what I plan to do to you, Faith?"

"Ignorance is bliss."

He bared his teeth in a nasty smirk. "Shame. You're not the only one who's creative."

Death struck like a viper; his hand positioned over mine on the hilt of the dagger. I jerked, but his fingers were strong as steel around mine. Our eyes connected, ice to fire.

"Naughty, naughty girl." With a sly smile, he guided my hand up, pulling the weapon free from the waistband of my jeans, and then he released me. The dagger remained in my grasp.

"Why don't do you just do it?" he taunted. "Put me down, Faith. Execute Malphas's plan. I'm weak in this body. Unable to feed. All you'd have to do is slice me with that butter knife, and Ace's body will be paralyzed within a minute. There's your way out of tonight. It's right in your grasp."

My fingers tightened around the handle.

"I'll make it easier for you." He dropped to his knees with his arms spread out.

"You've lost your mind," I gasped.

"Haven't you heard, princess? You're famous now." Ace's crazed violet eyes and sinister grin perfectly mirrored the delirious parasite possessing his body. "You need me tonight, just as much as I need you. Since you kept refusing my complete protection to shield you from my kind, rumors have spread. Now every wicked creature in this realm knows that I marked a mortal's soul with the Kiss of Death and brought her back to life. Bet they'll be curious as to why too. Can't say I didn't warn you. Let's hope none of them track your delicious scent here to Mommy and Daddy first—"

I lunged forward with the dagger raised and clutched Death by the throat. Instinct kicked in, and his hand snapped out to grip my forearm as he bared his teeth like an animal.

Breathing me in, his mouth spread wider into a taunting smirk. He loosened his grip so that I stayed in his clutches, but not hard enough to break any bones. Then he did the unthinkable and dropped his arms completely and complacently to his sides.

"That's right, baby," Death purred, freeing a deep, sinister laugh. "Choke me."

Heat splayed over me, and I propelled my arm to shake him, hard. "Shut up. Shut up, or I'll fry you like I did the other night. I swear to God, I'll do it!"

His jaw clenched shut at the mention of that night, and his eyes narrowed to slits. He examined me that way, motionless, and made no move to fight me. Beneath my fingers, Ace's pulse thrummed steadily, and I was reminded that if I hurt Death, I'd hurt the warlock too. Ridding myself of the Angel of Death wasn't the answer. Not now, at least. He was the only thing standing between my family and the rest of his monstrous world. And he knew it.

"Question," Death purred. "If you're going to execute me—since I don't get a last meal and all—could you take your top off first?"

"What is your problem?" I exploded, and his forehead puckered in surprise. "You're over two thousand years old and you still don't know how to treat women?"

"I—"

"It was rhetorical ," I snapped. Ace's skin paled a little as he tracked the now ignited-with-my-power dagger in my hand. I waved it about like a deadly conductor while I spoke. "I've given you plenty of opportunities to apologize, Death. You haven't, not once, and now you're demanding my help. Do you understand that if you had been nice to me from the beginning, or—I don't know—toned down the ‘I'm the predator, you're the prey' vibe you expel from every deadly pore of your body, I probably would have trusted you from the get-go? Hint: women love kind, honest men."

"Since when?"

"You're a hopeless cause! And I'm kicking you out !" Releasing his throat, I turned, intending to storm toward my bedroom window and haul it open to shove him through it, but Death grabbed the hem of my shirt and drew me back.

"What if I say I'll compromise?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "This oughta be good."

Glancing around in contemplation, Death scrubbed a hand across his jaw. "I swear to you, on my soul and my throne, that if you help me tonight, we will sit down and discuss our deal with your soul. I'll leave room for renegotiations in the contract you'll be given. Your family and your friend Marcy will remain under my protection. You have my word."

"Why should I believe your word?"

"Because I'm still on my knees," Death replied. "Because you and I need each other."

As if predicting I'd walk away again, he captured the backs of my thighs with his fingertips and held me in place. The fact that I let him destroyed me.

"Whether you believe it or not, whether you trust me or not, and whether you hate me or not, I've kept you alive when nobody else could. I must recover my corpse, and I need your assistance. Please."

We kept eye contact as I considered the idea that he was only acting this way to get his corpse back. I mean, honestly, the bastard was laying it on as thick as London fog. He'd even gone so far as to say his own forbidden word: please .

I was so sick and tired of this supernatural crap.

I didn't have much of a choice here, though. If Death didn't get his body back in time, there would be hell to pay. And the consequences wouldn't affect just me. They would affect my family and many, many other innocent lives.

"I'm with you." I stepped out of his grasp and tucked the dagger back into my jeans. "Only for tonight. And only if you accept another demand."

He scrutinized me, silent. It was empowering as hell to have an immortal being on his knees before me. All he needed to do was dangle a bunch of grapes over my mouth while fanning me in a tropical location to complete the fantasy.

"I want answers, Death. You give me answers, and I'll help you get your corpse back."

"I'll allow one answer."

"One? You're kidding, right?"

"One question, one night." He climbed to one knee before rising to Ace's tall, but not so intimidating, height. "I could always force you to help me."

"Could you?" I countered with a sly smile. It drove him mad that I didn't kiss his feet every time he barked out a command. He was used to being worshiped, but I needed to be his equal for this to work. "A part of you wants me to help you willingly."

Death widened his stance, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Another part of me wants you to be obedient."

"Forcing me to do anything for you tonight would be counterproductive."

"Hmm." Death strode around me to get to my dresser. He tugged open the top drawer to investigate inside. "Three questions," he clipped. "That's it."

"Twenty."

Death twirled a light-blue thong around his finger. "Twenty. If you slip these on."

I took an angry swipe at the thong, but he slingshot it across the room, where it vanished into smoke. "Hey! Those were my favorite!"

"Key word: were."

My face felt hot. "Twenty answered questions, you bastard. Tonight."

"Zero."

"Bye-bye!" I gave him a sarcastic wave as I jumped onto my bed. "Best of luck tonight!"

Death bared Ace's teeth and growled. "Fine," he snarled. "Twenty questions. Tonight. After I get my corpse back, we'll revisit the rest of your spoken demands."

We shook on it. That familiar coldness washed down my neck as our hands firmly but briefly connected.

"Now for your outfit." All business, he yanked me up off the bed and gave my figure a critical once-over. "I want her in black," he commanded to nobody, or so I thought.

Hidden shadows peeled off my bedroom walls and brushed my skin like feathered kisses. My clothes evaporated as the shadows transformed and a dress unfurled down the length of my body, rippling darker than an obsidian sea. A sleeveless A-line ball gown with a provocative V-neck that cut past the swell of my full cleavage and complemented the communion cross around my neck. The skirt of the gown fanned out at my waist in enticing layers of tulle that pooled at my feet. I stepped forward, and my Converse sneakers dissolved.

"I'll admit that was impressive, bearing in mind you aren't even in your own body. But next time, warn me before you go all fairy godmother."

"Warning." The hard line of his mouth twitched.

Shadows clung to me again. Heels slipped onto my feet, and my hair was pulled back from my neck, piling in curls over my head. The hem of the gown was now the perfect length, lightly kissing the floor.

"Wow," I marveled. I never wore dresses and found them uncomfortable, but this gown was an exception. It was made for a princess. "This dress . . . it's breathtaking."

"For what it's worth, it's not the dress." Death's eyes met mine, and the soul peering out from behind Ace's face was predatory. Any trace of that look washed away as he turned his head and ripped his gaze away from mine. "We should go. The event is commencing soon, and my soul needs to return to my corpse."

He swirled the warlock's cane, and shimmering smoke gathered around us.

The world blurred and narrowed in at hyperspeed, like getting shot through a tunnel. Our surroundings had changed, but I could hardly process where we'd landed. Disoriented and deprived of oxygen, I shoved away from Death and braced my hands on my knees as I dry heaved.

"Seriously?" I coughed out. "No warning or anything?"

I looked up from the wet pavement and froze. Death had managed to use the warlock's magic to teleport us all the way from Pleasant Valley to New York City. We were standing in an alleyway, and not just any alleyway—the one where Malphas had attacked me outside the D it's hidden in a strap under the layers of your dress."

"Is there a reason I still have it?"

"Just in case."

He didn't elaborate. I didn't expect him to.

"This line goes on forever," I grumbled. "We should rent a tent."

"It'll move once the doors open. I'd manifest, but I have to conserve Ace's energy. His human body is hungry, and I already wasted energy traveling from your home." He brought his head back, as if he was tired of waiting too. "My soul gets depleted faster on Earth than in Purgatory."

"What happens when you get completely depleted? At midnight will you turn back into your true form, a talking skeleton?"

"Let me clarify a few things for your waning intelligence, cupcake." Evidently, he was triggered by my joke, and I couldn't stop smiling. "I am not, nor have I ever been, a skeleton. I have never owned an hourglass, I am not a headless horseman, I don't drive a rickety old wagon, I do not hold a mortal's hand like a friend while we walk into the heavenly light of the afterlife, and—"

"You do not, under any circumstances, moan in the middle of the night, wandering aimlessly through a graveyard?"

He scowled. "You're asking for it."

I dug my teeth into my lip.

The woman ahead of us glanced over her shoulder, frowning at us.

"We roleplay," Death explained smoothly. The woman turned back around. "Ugly, nosey-ass mortals."

"Why is Devin launching your art program for underprivileged children at the D&S Halloween ball? What is this event, really? An actual monster bash? A front for a satanic sacrificial party?"

"All you have to know is Devin thrives on attention." He leaned into me and kept his eyes on the entrance ahead. "I'd tell you more about what's beyond those doors, but I'd have to sacrifice you."

"This whole ‘don't tell Faith anything' habit of yours is absurd at this point. I get it, you're a control freak who doesn't want to give me answers. But right now, I'm scared shitless, and you're the only person I can talk to. If you expect me to sit quietly on your lap the whole night, like an obedient little dog, you've got another thing coming."

"That's the second time we've discussed the idea of you sitting on my lap."

I tried to play it off coolly, except that my face was suddenly hot from that obvious innuendo. "Did you just man-filter everything I said?"

"Yes. That would be question nine."

The line moved forward as a pixelated screen at the building's entrance exploded with a short video of Devin and David Star. They looked impeccably beautiful, back to back, their eyes piercing the camera with a sizzling intensity. I found it eerie and unsettling to know that these two men, these celebrities the entire world fawned over, were the Devil and Death in disguise. I wanted to ask Death more about their alliance, but I knew he'd find a way to dodge a major question like that right now. Besides, he was counting the questions I asked, and I didn't want to waste my chances.

We reached the front of the line. Death produced a crumpled piece of paper from his suit jacket. Glancing at it, I saw messy cursive that said milk , eggs , bread , and ground meat .

The ticket taker's face spread into a big plastic grin. "Welcome to the D&S Tower Halloween ball!" He took out an ink pad and a stamp. "Would you like to make any additional donations—?"

"Stamp us," Death demanded and held out a wrist. The chirpy man stamped him with the D&S Tower logo, and right before my eyes, it disintegrated into his skin. I was next. Sure enough, the stamp disappeared into my skin too.

Death had totally just snuck us into the event with Ace's grocery list.

The tower lobby was a madhouse, like Grand Central Station during peak hours. A hive of activity and sound, bustling with guests—all of whom appeared to be human—conversing and making their way toward the back of the building.

"Now we wait and see if Ahrimad shows up," Death said, guiding us through the crowd "My father can't hold my scythe, so he won't have it."

"But Malphas held it in the corn maze."

"He must have held it briefly, then. My scythe is a blade of death. Ahrimad is the only other creature capable of holding the weapon indefinitely without bursting into flames. He is the only other creature who can wield it, and the power of the blade will allow him to temporarily stay corporeal."

"What do you think Ahrimad plans to do with your scythe? What kind of power does it have?"

"I've wielded it for over twenty centuries, and even I don't know all its power. The possibilities are endless."

Awesome . "Could he destroy the world tonight? World domination seems to be a hot trend among the evil type. I'd like to give my parents a quick call if our planet is going to self-destruct or something."

"Highly unlikely. No villain can take over the entire human realm in a single evening. World domination is a marathon, not a sprint."

In other words: Yes, he can destroy your world, but don't worry, obliteration takes time. I would know!

"It's not going to happen," Death reiterated, although his rigid posture spoke volumes to the contrary. "Don't worry your pretty little head."

"What if he kills you in Ace's body?"

"He won't have the chance to."

"So your soul can be destroyed."

"Was that not just implied?"

I crossed my arms and turned my back on him. "Friendly reminder that I'm helping you tonight."

Surprisingly, I stepped through security without any questions. Once the guards were finished scanning us, any pleasantness in Ace's features vanished, shifting to the menacing demeanor of the monster hiding underneath. Death's illusions had worked. We were in.

Death stalked over to my side.

"Walk," he said, grasping me by the elbow again.

I tore from his hold once we were a fair distance away. "Relax, alpha male. We'll get to Devin and all will be well. Grind your teeth any harder and Ace will have to wear dentures."

"Don't comfort me, Faith. I'm fine."

"Sounds like it!"

"I'm piggybacking another man's fucking body. It's well within reason to be furious."

"As long as you don't take it out on me, buddy."

As we entered the ballroom, Death pulled me sharply to the side behind a large bouquet of Halloween-themed orange and black dyed flowers. I was just about to tell him off for dragging me around like a dog on a leash when he cupped a hand over my mouth and flattened me against the wall with his body. The pure homicide in his expression sent fear, and maybe a dash of something else , down my spine.

Devin Star strode past us, paused to scan the room, and then continued through the ballroom. On his arm was my aunt Sarah, or at least I assumed it was her since her face wasn't turned toward me. Her blond hair was piled elegantly on top of her head, and she wore a beautiful, sparkling silver dress. Her toned body and pale skin bore no lacerations or damage caused by the wraiths and the hell hounds in the corn maze.

I started to move toward her, but Death placed a hand on my shoulder and secured me to his side.

"What the hell is Lucifer doing with my aunt?" I whispered.

"Looks like the hell hounds dragged her here to be his date." Death raked his hand aggravatedly through Ace's hair. "Damn it, that was my chance. I should have approached him."

"Now who's the chicken, buddy ?"

He turned on me. "How about you shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you, buddy?" I should have been frightened, but I felt a lick of something unwelcomely close to desire at the tension between us.

Get a grip .

I examined the patterns on his tapestry vest to distract myself from the inconvenient fantasies I was having about him. "What are we going to do now?"

"Sit down and locate Devin after his presentation." He peered out from behind the flowers and checked if the coast was clear. "Heading to the stage right now will draw unwanted attention to us."

Unexpectedly, his fingers weaved with mine, and he drew me into the ballroom.

Curtains were draped across the spacious ceiling, and amber lights shimmered behind them. The rest of the room was decorated with elegant Halloween accents, splashes of orange and black, and bouquets with little pumpkins on each table. An enormous chandelier made of countless arms branching out with dazzling crystals and golden lights spread a warm glow along the ceiling and the hardwood floors.

Death selected an empty table and dragged out a chair for me. In front of the seat lay a card written in calligraphy and a black masquerade mask. I pulled the skirt of my gown under me and took my seat as Death sat down next to me.

"Put on the mask," he ordered, lifting his plain white mask off the table and pressing it to his face. Instantly, the party favor transformed into a unique decoration that matched his suit. Fascinated, I lifted mine to my eyes. As if by magic, the mask clung to my face without any string or ribbon.

Death unfastened his purple suit jacket while his gaze swept the room like an assassin, landing on one table.

Seven men in identical obsidian tuxedos sat there. They had athletic physiques and wore red masquerade masks. Laughing loudly, three of the seven were taking turns tossing hors d'oeuvres into each other's mouths, baseball-style.

"Friends of yours?"

"I don't have friends," Death said. "They're my subordinates. My seven reapers."

As they continued to fling food at each other like drunken fraternity brothers, one with a pink Mohawk missed a clump of food and chaotically flipped over his chair in the process. He rolled to his feet in a smooth somersault and played it cool, suavely fixing his hair. Death gripped the back of my chair with a white-knuckled fist and visibly strained to remain in his seat.

"Damn it, Romeo," he hissed.

"One of your reapers is called Romeo ? With an alias as scary as Death, I would have expected hardcore names for your subordinates. Like Shovelhead, or Cobra. Do you have a reaper named Bubbles?"

Death fiddled with his butter knife on the table. "This is a prestigious event. They're behaving like a bunch of imbeciles."

"Deep breaths. Everything is going to be okay."

"If you feed me one more clichéd motivational line, I'm going to rip out the nearest person's teeth and fasten them around your neck like a choker."

"Chill. It's not like you can discipline any of your reapers in your current situation."

" Chill? You think this is funny, don't you?"

"I think this is hilarious. The Grim Reaper is having a panic attack in another person's body. You should try diaphragmatic breathing." I inhaled a much-needed breath from my own belly and sighed dramatically. Death's cold stare flicked down to the thin strips of fabric over my breasts as I did so and lingered for several beats. When our eyes met again, his were an intoxicating blend of brooding, sinister, and carnal. His tongue tucked inside of his cheek, as if he were barely restraining himself.

I smiled sugar-sweet. "Chill."

He lunged at me.

"Welcome to the D&S Tower," proclaimed a voice behind us. Death slammed his ass back into his seat and composed himself as civilly as a rabid animal. The waiter's eyes were a disturbing shade of red, and I dropped my attention quickly to his sharp nose. "Can I offer you two something to drink? Have you looked at our Halloween-themed drink menu?"

I didn't drink alcohol, plus I was eighteen, but I wasn't about to blow our cover. "Oh—um, hold on." I reached for the fancy menu by my plate and read.

To Die For Drink Menu

The Black Cauldron

Poisoned Passion Fruit Kiss (Vegan-friendly)

Gin & Terror

RIP Lemonade (Vegan-friendly)

The Grave

Witch's Brew (Eye garnish optional)

Bloody Mary

Zombie's Goblet (Contains meat)

The waiter cleared his throat.

"Riiight," I said, skeptical about ordering any of these. "The Grave sounds promising."

"I bet it does," Death muttered as he inspected his own drink menu. "You've already got one foot in it."

The waiter switched his attention to Death. "And for you, sir?"

Right before my eyes, the waiter's face shimmered away. His skin paled until it became nearly translucent. Two sharp canines poked out from his lips. Vampire . No flipping way. Chairs shifted around us, drawing my attention to the rest of our table as other guests were seated. The assembly of people—if I could even call them people—consisted of frighteningly ugly creatures in fancy clothes. They talked amongst themselves in various foreign tongues. I gaped at them, feeling like a lone rabbit trapped in a forest overpopulated by wolves.

Death was speaking in a rich foreign language to the waiter. He indicated certain items on the menu and made a cutting gesture with his hand. What the hell is he saying?

"Pardon me," one of the guests at our table said with a croaky voice. The creature spun its head one hundred eighty degrees, like an owl, to face a different waiter walking past our table. My stomach churned at the visual. "When you get the chance, kindly fetch me another Witch's Brew. Two eyeballs, this time. I do enjoy those cute garnishes."

"Of course, ma'am," the waiter replied. She disappeared and reappeared at another table with a tray of appetizers in an instant.

"First time at a D&S Tower ball, eh?" asked a hoarse, accented voice to my left. "Oh, how I love watching the brainwashed mortals mingle with us every Halloween. You look a little pale, dove. Are you not from the Netherworld?"

I gaped at the thing in the chair beside me. Its gray, hairless, dog-like face contorted as it sipped noisily from a massive goblet, although it wasn't slurping with its mouth but instead through its straw-like fingers, which were dipped into the thick, crimson liquid of the drink. Blood. As it continued to devour its beverage, the beast offered me a thin smile, and I glimpsed its huge incisors.

"Well?" the stranger prompted. "Do you not understand the mortals' English?"

"I don't live in the Netherworld," I squeaked. "I live . . . further north. I think."

"I see." It scrunched up its nose, which could only be described as a more terrifying cousin of a muzzle. "You're approaching your cyclic bleed. What species are you?"

Fingers pinched my arm. Death dragged my chair closer to him. "Thank God," I breathed. "That thing just asked about my—"

Death cupped my jaw and slanted his mouth possessively over mine. The caress deepened as his tongue parted my lips, edging inside. Blind pleasure shuddered through me, and a soft moan escaped from my throat. When his hand glided over my bare back, reality crashed into me, and I shoved him away.

"What was that for?" I exclaimed.

A flicker of amusement rippled over the warlock's features. "Keep your voice down," he cautioned as our waiter appeared out of thin air to place our requested drinks in front of us. In my peripheral vision, the creature I'd been speaking to turned its attention elsewhere. "You were speaking to a species of chupacabra, and he scented your next period. I laid my claim before he tried to sample a taste."

Ew . Thank God Death had intervened, but if he expected a thank you, he wasn't getting one. I adjusted the silky straps of my dress instead. My lips were swollen and claimed all right, but not to the extent they had been the night he'd kissed me in my bedroom. I need to stop thinking about that kiss .

The lights dimmed.

At the head of the ballroom, past paparazzi and guests I now knew weren't all human, Devin Star stood on a sleek stage. He looked like a god amongst golden spotlights, sporting a bloodred tuxedo.

"Good evening," Devin said in a booming voice. Any noise in the room halted immediately. "And thank you all for joining me on this monumental night."