Iwoke up in the safest place in the world, your arms. The morning light shone on your hair and beard, making it look golden. It was early still, just after dawn. I smiled at first, then took in our surroundings—the room that had become our prison over the past couple of days and the soldiers in black guarding us.
“I guess it wasn’t a dream,” I said.
You shook your head. “No, my love, it wasn’t.”
What a hellish price to pay to have you back with me, but there we were, with you in your own bloodborn body. Finally, we could be together like we were always meant to be.
“I love you,” I said contentedly and snuggled in closer. You leaned in and kissed my forehead. You looked troubled, as though you hadn’t slept all night. I knew this thing with your mother wasn’t over. I’d sold my soul, and I had a feeling she wasn’t one to forgive a debt.
“We need to talk,” you said.
A sense of dread came over me as I sat up in the bed across from you. We both wore those ridiculous pajamas that made it look like we were at some porno teenage slumber party.
“Go on,” I said.
“I received a visit last night from the powerful angel I’ve spoken to you about.”
“Your boss? The one with the shitty prophecy?”
“Yes. His name is Azrael.”
“And?” I studied your face, hoping I’d get more from your expression than I was getting from your words. You normally weren’t so dodgy about things, but whatever this was about, you didn’t want to tell me.
“Perhaps I should begin with what it means to belong to a demon.”
I raised my eyebrows. I may have been enchanted but I wasn’t an idiot.
“I’m pretty sure I know already, Henri. I’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid for the past two days. I get that those weren’t paid servants, but blood slaves. Or sex slaves. Or both.”
You nodded but didn’t seem encouraged. “The soul bond doesn’t end when your body dies.”
I looked at you skeptically. You’d always been reluctant to say much about the afterlife. I figured that subject was top secret—angel business not meant for feeble human minds.
“You mean, like, I’m going to Hell?”
“No, you’ll go to a Shade Vale, most likely Lena’s Hall of Souls, where your spirit will be stored until it is called upon again, each time growing weaker and more a stranger to yourself until…” You drew a heavy breath and sighed before looking at me again. “Until everything that makes you who you are is lost. You won’t be reborn in the natural way, Orlando, and you won’t ever have another chance at a human life.”
“What would I be called for?”
Your calm composure broke down. You lifted your face to the ceiling and raked your hands through your long hair. “She will make you her slave—body, mind and spirit—and she will torture you endlessly for an eternity. She’ll do that to get back at me because I betrayed her.”
My breath caught when I imagined it. An eternity of nights like last night?
“But Azrael is willing to grant us mercy,” you said with fervor and stared at me with your hypnotic eyes.
I blinked, not comprehending. It was like you were speaking to me in another language.
“Henri, just tell me what the hell is going on without all your spiritual mumbo jumbo. I know you’ve worked out a deal already. You don’t need to give me all the gory details.”
You cupped my cheek in your rough palm, and I leaned into it, comforted by your touch.
“Azrael said that if I reap your body and deliver your soul to him, he will keep your spirit safe until we can be reunited.”
I repeated every word you’d just said slowly in my mind, trying to string together some meaning. It sounded like a very gentlemanly way of saying you were going to…
“When?” I asked, which was probably not the question I should be asking, but it was what came out.
You dropped your head and moaned. When you looked at me again, there were tears in your eyes. “We have until dawn. Then his offer expires, and your soul will be forever bound to my mother and her design.”
