“Of course you do.” She tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him into the House of Souls. The door was coaxed shut behind them by Aspen’s magic.
Even though the Reapers clearly had visitors, they somehow managed not to run into anyone except Pawns—men and women who did anything the Reapers asked of them out of the sheer, pathetic hope they’d one day be welcomed into the circle—as Aspen led the way through the narrow, dimly lit corridors. Malakai Delaney’s office was on the third floor, down a long corridor that had no windows and held no other rooms. The few torches lining the black walls were the only source of light in this wing of the mansion.
“How’s Lace?” Aspen asked. She tried to keep every trace of emotion out of her question, but Darien knew her well enough to detect the sorrow beneath her words. Aspen had been Lace’s best friend, back before Malakai had declared that no Devils were to mingle with his Reapers again unless he said so.
He gave her a sidelong glance, taking note of how her shoulders had stiffened. Her hair swayed just enough to betray glimpses of the mark of the Reapers below her ear: the cloaked and hooded God of Death, complete with a scythe and a horned, long-snouted mask that bore a smile that was anything but friendly. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Darien said.
Her cold fingers tightened around his, but she kept staring straight ahead. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t,” Darien said, squeezing back lightly, “orwon’t?”
“Don’t be an ass,” she muttered. “The Reapers are my family, and if I were to lose Mal’s favour, I would literally have nothing.”
“You wouldn’t have a circle anymore, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. You would get to start over. Choose a new life for yourself, anywhere you want. Angelthene would be nothing but a distant dream if you only dared it to be.”
Aspen gave a soft snort, though humored was clearly the last thing she felt. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” she muttered. “How are you and her, anyway? Are you still getting along?”
“As well as any exes can, I suppose.” When Aspen gave him a concerned, sidelong glance, he added, “We’re still friends, Asp. No need to be so tense.”
They were nearing the end of the hallway now. “I only ask because I care. I never thought it was a good idea for you two to date in the first place. You and the other Devils are all she’s got.”
“You don’t need to worry, Aspen. Besides, that was a long time ago, and Lace and I have gotten along just fine since.”
She sighed. “You’re right. Clearly, it’s been too long since I checked in on her.” When Darien opened his mouth to speak, she said, “Don’t you dare give me another lecture. I won’t ever go against Mal, just as Lace would never go against you.”
“Shedoestest me at times, but I get what you’re saying.”
Aspen released Darien’s hand as they reached the closed double doors of the office. “Wait here a minute.”
Darien stepped out of view of the doors as Aspen knocked three times. A gravelly male voice Darien hadn’t heard in months called for her to enter, and she slipped inside. Darien didn’t have to strain to hear what the voices were saying, for Aspen had left one door open just wide enough for sound to drift through, the words unhindered by the spellwork rippling over the wood.
“Someone is here to see you,” Aspen was saying. Darien knew her well enough to detect the edge of nerves in her voice.
“I’m a little busy at the moment.”
“With all due respect, I think you’re going to want to listen to what he has to say.”
Silence stretched for several seconds before Malakai gave a low sigh. “Very well. Bring him in.”
Darien didn’t wait for Aspen to retrieve him. He stepped right into Malakai’s office, and as soon as the leader of the Reapers caught sight of him, he shot to his feet from where he was seated at the curved mahogany desk, his massive leather chair nearly tipping onto the ground behind him. The men that were stationed at either side of the desk had their weapons drawn before Darien could sayIgnis.
It was to Aspen that Malakai growled, “What is it about ‘No Devils are allowed in here’ did you not understand?” One side of the Reaper’s face was marked up with blue tattoos, making him look like a mean prick even in the rare times when he smiled. His copper hair was cut into a mohawk he’d braided away from his face, and his beard was full and wiry, disguising the scars on his chin.
Darien had liked Malakai years ago, had even considered him a friend. But the moment the Seven Devils had overthrown the Reapers, taking their place at the top of Angelthene’s pyramid of Darkslayers, Malakai had decided he could no longer call Darien and the others his friends.
Sucks to suck,Darien thought, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
“That tone is a little hostile to use on a lady,” Darien began, “wouldn’t you agree?”
Malakai was practically trembling with rage. “You didnotcome in here to belittle me in my own house.”
“No, I didn’t,” Darien said coolly. “Like Aspen said, I bring a peace offering.”
Malakai’s upper lip pulled back over his teeth, exposing the metal coating on his canines that were filed into wicked points. “Lose the weapons and get on your knees, and maybe then I’ll consider listening to you.”
“I get on my knees for no one,” Darien said, zero emotion in his voice. “And I already gave my weapons to Aspen.” Out of the corner of his eye, Darien saw Aspen hold up the gun she’d taken from him to illustrate that what he’d said was the truth.
Malakai didn’t spare her more than half a glance. “One gun?” he scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”
