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“Go on.”
“Let people know you have your eye on them. Miss a few pickups. You know. Death stuff. Throw the universe off a little. You don’t like the job. Maybe you’ll get fired.”
“I do enjoy a bit of chaos,” he says quietly.
Death reaches into his pocket and takes out a delicate amber blade.
“This is the knife I use to sever souls from their earthly bodies. What a lot of people, even in Heaven, don’t know is that there’s a little side benefit to it. It wi
ll kill anything. Angels included.”
I take out the golden blade.
“I already have a knife that kills angels. I got it from an angel I killed.”
He flicks the tip with his finger. It rings like a tiny bell.
“Very pretty. The problem is it won’t penetrate an angel’s armor,” he says, pressing the amber knife into my hand. “This will go through armor like water.”
I turn the blade over and over. It feels like it’s vibrating.
“What’s going to happen to you without your knife?”
He drops his Malediction and crushes it under his million-dollar shoes.
“I have no idea, but I’m sure it will be interesting.”
He rubs his hands together.
“And chaotic.”
I put the amber knife in the inside pocket of my coat.
“I’ll get this back to you as soon as possible. By the way, do I have to keep calling you Death?”
He thinks for a few seconds.
“Go back to Samael. As you said, I might not have the job much longer.”
“Thanks. I owe you a drink when this is over.”
“At Bamboo House of Dolls? I’m afraid that’s a bit far for you these days.”
“Nope. I’m going to get home.”
“The eternal optimist.”
“What else have I got?”
He says, “What if you can’t go home? Not all deaths are equal, but this is the most dead you’ve ever been.”
“Are you saying I can’t go home?”
He doesn’t say anything, which says a lot.
Finally he says, “There are some things you can’t trick or punch your way out of. I’m sorry.”
My guts feel like they’ve been dropped down an elevator shaft.
