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I had to be patient. Now, more than ever, I had to bide my time.
The demon kept digging, his eyes like beacons in the night. I heard those wicked claws scratch into the wood when he reached the coffin, and I had to force myself not to look away as the demon pulled my brother from his grave and hauled him over his shoulder.
“Wakey, wakey,” he said, and crawled up from the hole to dump Marcus limply in the grass. “Just give me a minute here, buddy. Can’t have your mother knowing her son’s grave has been desecrated.”
God, it made me sick. I’d kill him for this, I’d blast his fucking head off. But even in my fury, I knew the demon was merely a tool. Kent Hadleigh commanded him.
But why steal his body?
The demon hauled Marcus over his shoulder, as if he were nothing more than a sack of meat to be thrown around. My stomach twisted, and rage burned in my throat, but I had to shut it out. I had to keep still, I had to wait and watch. Only when the demon was gone, long out of my sight, did I allow myself to slam my clenched fist against the tree trunk, choking down the screams that wanted to come out with it.
The Hadleighs had sealed their fate when they failed to kill me. They pounded the first nail into their own coffin when they killed Marcus. They hammered the second one home when they stole his body.
I was going to kill them all. No matter what it took. No matter what I had to give up.
No matter what deals had to be made.
7
I’d been hunting souls for over five centuries.
It was lucrative work, and had a way of becoming easier the longer you’ve done it. Bring one soul back to Hell, and you gain power. Bring two souls back to Hell, your power doubles. And so on.
Collect enough souls, and Hell begins to afford you certain luxuries: human money, specifically. It became far easier to convince humans to trust me when I could impress them with expensive things.
But the best hunts weren’t easy. I didn’t want them to be; I welcomed the thrill of a challenge. Perhaps that was why I’d become so drawn to the oddities, the weirdos, the murderous little freaks. Perhaps that was why I longed for their souls most of all.
Dear fucking Lucifer, I did love a killer.
Human or demon, it didn’t matter: a being with blood on their hands and a smile on their face just did it for me. Vicious little mortals were rarely a threat tome; but damn they were cute, and their souls had a unique weight to them that I adored.
I likedcutethings. I liked to crush them and break them and see what would become of all the jagged little pieces. Perhaps my definition of “cute” was just a little different.
Juniper Kynes, for example. Adorable. Murderous. Vicious. And bound to be mine.
I’d been hunting her for four years now. I wouldn’t call myselfobsessed— that sounded messy.Intriguedwas more accurate.Determined, perhaps. After all, there came a point in every hunt where it was up to the prey to make their move. I couldn’t simply take her soul; she had to give it willingly.
I’d waited years for my little wolf to stop running. I knew she would. She couldn’t resist forever.
A wolf needs a pack. A wolf can’t hunt alone.
All she had to do was text me four simple words:I want to talk.
I smiled when I saw the message pop up on my cell.
Business or pleasure? I’m a busy demon, no time for small talk.
Fuck you.I laughed aloud, and waited. She wouldn’t make a second of this easy, and that’s what I liked: a challenge. I wanted to fight for it.
Then,I want to make a deal.
It was a good thing I was alone, because my human disguise instantly slipped. I couldn’t hide my claws when I was so eager to get them into her.Name the time and place.
Joanie’s Bar, in Blackhook, near the coast. Come late.
I suppose she felt safe in the tiny town she chose. It was miles from Abelaum, hugging the cold coast, a few streets of houses and several old businesses, half of the buildings abandoned. Fishing boats lined the small marina, and Joanie’s Bar was perched above that.
I was too eager, and I got there before she did. It was a tiny place, the walls lined with photos of fishermen with their catches. I took a table in the back corner, where I could survey the room, watching as the humans mingled at the bar and quietly sipped pints in their booths. They’d given me a few odd looks, but no trouble. Instinct told them to keep their distance.
