“Yeah,” I answered shakily. “Thanks.”
My knees wanted to give. I bit the inside of my cheek until iron bloomed on my tongue and rode the sting back into myself; into reality.
Heat crawled up my throat; my hands trembled once before I fisted them so hard that my nails left behind marks. I bit the inside of my cheek until iron bloomed on my tongue and let the hurt bring me back to reality. I stepped out of his reach and scraped the wobble from my voice. “I’m fine.”
Weak, Dany,I spat in my head.You are so fucking weak.
It was supposed to have been easy-–a done fucking deal. I had those fuckers in the palm of my hands, ready to wipe the world clean of their filth and send them to hell with Lucifer in an Easter basket, or whatever the saying was.
“Are you sure?” he asked wearily.
“Yeah,” I scoffed and straightened my jacket. “Thanks.”
For nothing. Thanks for nothing.
I needed them—three names, three souls—tonight, while the ledger was open. When the window shuts, Luci doesn’t forgive.
Does he?
In all of my afterlife, I never actually knew what happened if the terms of the deal were broken. I knew of demons disappearing; how I’d have neighbors one day and an empty room the next.
Not knowing was worse than knowing in this case. The idea of the unknown coated my palms with sweat, and I had to shove the idea aside before it snowballed into confirmation that he would make me wear badge clips as nipple clamps while burning alive for eternity.
He’s already reminded me of running out of time. How far could I push until his patience ran too thin?
I side-eyed my rogue vigilante. Maybe he could be a stand-in. Technically, he threatened to kill someone and I, the biggest hypocrite on Earth, slaughtered murderers for funsies.
Could I put a hole in Joe and call it even?
I sighed. I didn’t have to continue my train of thought before the last, dying shred of humanity in my heart told me to fuck off with the idea.
No. He isn’t the type of guy who made my list.
He did, however, chase off the people I needed to satiate my lord and savior Lucifer Christ and that was not on my bingo card for the night. He cost me three souls, and for some Satan-damned reason I couldn’t make myself kill him.It would make my life easier. One down, three to go.
But, fury settled easier than shame, so I rolled with it.
I couldn’t kill him, but I could damn sure hate him for fucking up my night.
So I swallowed the shame and let the anger take the wheel. The ledger doesn’t care about chivalry, and I still had a deadline to feed.
“Is there someone I can call? Do you have a car, or can I walk you home?”
I couldn’t stop the laugh from rolling off my tongue, thick with irony and disbelief. “No,” I huffed. “I’ll be just fine. Thanks, though, Batman.”
I straightened my clothes, cleared my throat and gave him an awkward two finger salute while walking away.
Before I made it two steps, he cursed under his breath and grabbed my wrist.
“Hey!” I exclaimed and tried to jerk my hand away from his hold.
His hand swallowed mine, and the heat of his skin competed with steam rising off my own. It was like throwing a blanket over the heated floor vent–pleasantly warming your toes while simultaneously suffocating you slowly.
“You’re hurt.” His eyes scanned my wrist, fingers hovering above where, sure as shit, blood stained my skin.
“Huh.” I examined the wound alongside him. “It would seem so.” The worn brick left a bloody rash on the back of my hand, and bruises were already blooming around my wrist. “I’ll be fine. Not the first time it’s happened, won’t be the last, and it’s not a big deal.” The night seemed to hold its breath while this stranger and I were stuck in an in-between moment. I was the first to move and return its breath.
“Hands,” I warned, pulling my arm again and, this time, he let me go. “Good boy,” I quipped.
