He would die for me.
Hehaddied for me.
But would I let him die for my vengeance?
The answer should have been easy and immediate. Edward Fitzgeralddeservedto suffer. Hedeservedto bleed.
But did Rowan?
His thumb kept moving over the back of my hand in those small circles.
No. No, he does not,I thought as I loosed an explosive exhale.
Even if it meant never finding Edward. Even if it meant carrying this hatred for the rest of this second life. Even if it meant the scales never balanced and the universe never corrected its cosmic error of letting that monster keep breathing, keep touching, keep destroying.
Rowan was alive. And I was choosing—actively choosing—to keep him that way.
We'll find another way.The thought echoed in my skull, desperate and determined in equal measure.We'll hunt Edward without demon contracts, mysterious artifacts, or whatever the hell a Strega is.It would be harder and slower, but it would not involve gambling with lives I couldn’t afford to lose. Not after losing Jules. I knew I could not bear another.
I lifted my chin, met Damien’s molten-amber gaze—those eyes that saw too much, knew too much, promised too much—and let my voice cut through the smoke-thick air. “No. No deal.”
The word shattered the silence in the room like a stone through a window.
Damien’s eyebrows rose—genuine surprise flickering across features too perfect to trust, too beautiful to be fully human. He set down his coffee cup with deliberate care. “No?” His voice was velvet wrapped around steel, curiosity sharpening the edges. “How exquisitely unexpected,gatita. And here I thought vengeance was your heart’s one true desire, the very thing that youlustedafter more than all else.”
“It is.” My voice came out flat, hard, no room for negotiation.
“And yet,” he gestured between Rowan and me with one elegant hand, “Here you stand, choosinghimover your need to avenge the pain of a life un-lived—”
“I lived it,” I spat.
“Yes,” Damien said with a smile, “you did indeed. And I cansmellthe coppery scent of bloodlust wafting off of you. I cantastethe nectar of your desire over how much you thirst to rip Edward to pieces, then shred those pieces into ribbons.” Damien’s eyes flashed a brilliant gold as his smile grew even wider. “Your lust for revenge, for violence, for pain is. . .delicious.”
“Thanks?” I said, not knowing how else to reply.
“However,” Damien said as he raised a hand, “I must caution you,gatita. I feel it is rarely ever in an individual’s best interest, either in the long term or the short, to act against their base nature. We have these instincts, urges, compulsions, and desires for a reason,si? To ignore them for overly long is to do so at great peril.”
“Yeah, well. . . I’ve had a lot of practice atnotgetting what I want. A whole lifetime of it, in fact. Besides,” I said as I looked at Rowan and squeezed his hand back, “some things are even more important.”
“Oh,mi aves fénix. . . how very romantic.” His smile was all teeth and knowing amusement. “Or perhaps this is just foolish. I confess, I do not possess the foresight to tell which.”
I said nothing. Couldn’t trust my voice not to shake, not to reveal how close I was to changing my mind, to grabbing his offer with both hands and damn the consequences.
His knowing smile told me that he enjoyed my moral struggle like a fine wine. “Tell me,mi gatita, does your boyfriend know what you are sacrificing for him? Does he understand the weight of the gift you offer with your refusal? Does he understand just how much youlustfor the blood of this man?”
“That’s no one’s business.”
“Oh, but it is.” Damien leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with casual grace. “Everything that happens within my domain is my business. Every choice, every sacrifice, every delicious moment of indecision.” He picked up his coffee cup again, inhaled the aroma, and sipped. “And you,gatita, are positivelyachingwith indecision right now.”
Rowan’s grip tightened on my hand while the other clenched into a fist. “We’re leaving,” I said over my shoulder as I turned to leave. “No deal. No contract. No help finding Edward. We’re done.”
“Hold,” Damien said, but the word sounded. . . odd? The tone and timbre of his voice sounded off, sounded heavy. It was spoken as neither a request nor a command, but more of a simple statement of fact.
We stopped walking away and turned to face him.
Damien set his coffee cup back down before he stood. “There is still the rather significant matter of the boon he owes me for the death of my good friend Jules,” Damien said, pointing to Rowan. “I would be remiss if I did not insist uponsomethingin recompense for such a tragic loss.”
“Tfu! As I told you once before, High Demon, you may have my silence as a boon. You will get naught else from me.” Rowan took a step towards Damien, placing himself between me and the demon. “If you are unhappy with that offer, then strike me down and be done with this farce.”
