Golden eyes, rippling muscles, and a longsuffering expression—Lucky conveyed to me what a war table couldn’t.
Fool me once, so the saying goes.
Unfortunately for me, it took three lifetimes of horrifying arrivals, combined with the resigned tightness around Lucky’s eyes before I understood Heaven’s army wasn’t just spreading—it wasfollowing.
The time, the nation, the church’s sudden impulse to divide and conquer had a compass of its own, and I was its north star.
Heaven’s faithful and its marching orders: the continent, the people, the gods-damned villages, boiled down to Love and the demon that threatened their Book of Revelation. Any emperor, king, pope responsible for the decree was yet another string-tied doll plucked by hidden hands.
I’d known from our first encounter in Constantinople that Heaven would claim her when they could…but to tail me?
The only entities privy to my whereabouts were citizens of Hell.
And there was only one member of the Infernal Courts foolish enough to betray me.
When I’d told my sister to run, I’d been too generous.
It was a mistake I wouldn’t make twice.
Chapter Twenty-Two
1618 ADE
Breathe in. Breathe out. Clench your fists. Be still as the drumming stomp of soldiers approached. Don’t look away. Don’t back down. This is it.
The treaty was mine, and as such, they were my words to regret.
Love was mine to protect.
Every pantheon who had pressed its finger to the scroll had vowed to honor the terms.
I continued to play my part in the prophecy to the letter, evidenced by my faithfulness to her no matter where, no matter when, no matter who. Gods knew better than to make assumptions, and the treaty hadn’t specified that I fill my human with the liquid, demonic potential.
True to my oath: never again would I avoid her. From one life to the next, I’d seek her out, woo her, protect her, and know her carnally whenever the cycle allowed. In return, they offered me an unconditional pardon for whatever I had to do for Love upon their soil.
Centuries of baffling impotence was the fault of those who’d assumed I’d take the next logical step in the gray area.
Love and I had a few beautiful lifetimes.
We had a few cut tragically short.
We were thwarted by Heaven more times than I care to admit.
And at last…it wasmyturn for the stars to align.
Orange sunlight peeked through clouds, illuminating snowflakes as they swirled. I preferred when the sun shined on rainy days, but a sunset amidst the twinkle of frost was its own kind of magic.
The snow, the pine, the harsh rock had changed names over the years. Reclusive royals tucked themselves into the stony valleys years before the blood flowed through Wallachia. Vlad III Dracul—a surname destined for legends—impaled, disemboweled, beheaded, torn, thrashed, violated, burned, plucked, nailed, and otherwise scribbled verbs into the long list of accomplishments of Hell and its Marquis of Torture.
My people were as varied as the humans, wise and respectable, kind and generous, homicidal sadists. Variety was not a mortal quality.
Five hundred years after Vlad’s butcherous delights whispered through the kingdoms, I found myself on the mortal soil belonging to a pantheon I’d been waiting a long, long time to visit.
Heaven had spent centuries flooding the region.
Reddish-orange light washed the home sheltering a perfect, mortal soul. Love was somewhere indoors drinking stew from a ladle with her parents. I knew from the legion that found herthat Love was only a few years old. I also knew I would not see her face in this life.
I approached her house to leave my mark. A single cut across my palm. A symbol she and I had crafted together in a former life. A formal announcement.
