Page 16 of In Between Death and the Devil

Like last night, he wore a sleeveless tunic, this one black with red and silver trim. I wondered if he wore them to purposely show off his biceps and forearms, which looked like they belonged on a warrior of legend. Like he wielded a sword regularly instead of shadows. His pants did nothing to disguise his muscular thighs. I could only imagine what the view of him looked like from behind. It had been dark on the balcony, so I hadn’t gotten a good look. Combined with his ruggedly handsome face and kissable lips, I vividly remembered how good they’d felt against mine; he was temptation personified.

Power poured off of him, so much that Death’s presence felt small in comparison. I didn’t know how I’d missed it. There had been whispers about the Devil’s strength, but the imbalance between the two of them was startling. I wasn’t the only one who felt it, judging by the nervous looks of the Judges seated near him, slouching down a bit as if to make themselves less noticeable.

I blinked, unable to believe this was the same man I’d kissed last night. He’d seemed so human then. There was nothing human about him now. He looked every inch the cold, dark god he was.

My stomach plummeted to my feet. I’d had a vision of the Devil. Perhaps it was a sign of where I should have ended up—in his Dungeon. Or, given our interaction last night, maybe he’d sent it to me to stoke my curiosity, to make me inclined to trust him. Maybe he had plans for me.

I curled my hands into fists. He’d lied to me, telling me he was a Judge. It was one of the reasons I’d trusted him. Had I known who he was, I’d never have unburdened myself. The memory of everything I’d revealed made me cringe.

Stupid. I was so stupid. And weak. I should have expected it. The Devil was known for his powers of manipulation, but I’d been an easy target, so desperate for connection and reassurance that I’d made the right decision in coming here. He’d given me that. And then I’d kissed him.

Gods.

Something cracked open in my chest and heat rushed down my arms, into my hands. I looked down, expecting to see them turning red but there was no sign of what I felt. As quick as it had come, the sensation dissipated.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to steady myself. There was no way to take back what I’d said. I had no idea what he’d do with the information or why he’d manipulated me. All I could do was assume everything he’d told me was a lie. My shoulders slumped. If he wanted someone like me to be a Judge, I probably shouldn’t be.

A loud thump pulled my attention back to the floor.

The Judge trainee raised the staff in his hand and brought it down on the platform twice more. The thunk it made reverberated more than it should, like the platform was more than just a piece of wood. “I call forth the soul that was Evan Leander.”

The platform broke open in a spiral, the pieces retracting to create a circular opening through which a man rose. No. Not a man. The echo of a man. A soul. Evan Leander. His body was translucent and shimmered when he moved. He looked around in alarm at the gathered assembly, but when he tried to step off the platform he ran into an invisible barrier.

Pointing the staff like a spear, the trainee jabbed the tip into Evan’s chest, making him gasp. I winced as the trainee pulled it out. A pulsing ball of golden light sat in the cluster of branches at the top.

“What is that?” I whispered.

“The soul’s heart, its essence,” Bea said, her voice full of awe.

Without it, the outline of Evan dimmed so that he looked even more like a ghost. I shivered at the sight.

The trainee set the staff back in the stand and the cluster of branches holding the soul’s heart opened like a hand. The ball of light inside expanded to twice its size and shifted from pure gold to a rainbow of jewel tones. It was like looking at the inside of a pomegranate—hundreds of seeds nestled together in sheets, each one a different color.

I held my breath as the trainee reached in and plucked out a handful in the deepest hues. They pulsed like a beating heart in his hands. He placed them on one side of the scale, causing the dish to sink. Then he opened the leather box on the table next to it. I caught sight of silver and black pieces nestled in trays inside.

“The soul that was Evan Leander,” the trainee said, “spent most of his life coveting what others had. He killed his best friend and business partner over a contract and then married his widow. He was caught trying to bribe a judge in a trade dispute and executed.” The trainee pulled out three of the silver pieces—weights, I realized, each one a different size.

“The recommended sentence is to return him to the World of the Living in a life where his desires are always just out of reach,” he placed one weight on the other side of the scale, causing it to swing into motion, “the need to care for an ungrateful family,” a second weight, “and an unrequited love.” The third weight brought the two sides closer together but not level. The weight of the soul pieces was still heavier than the sentence.

A ripple of dismay ran through the crowd, and the trainee pressed his lips together as he reached into the box of weights again.

“What’s he doing?” Bea asked. “How is he going to balance the scales?”

My eyes darted to Death’s face. She was laser focused on the scale, as if she could make it move by will alone, her brows creased in a frown.

“He has to add weight to the sentence,” I said.

“Years in the Devil’s care.” The trainee set another weight on the scale—this one black. The scales shifted a little but not enough to balance things. Not until he added five black weights did the pans pull level. “Fifty years.” The trainee sounded defeated and I saw Death’s eyes close in dismay.

Angry murmurs circulated, and even Talia, who had kept her face blank up to now, glared at the Tempters and their master.

Fifty years with the Devil, in addition to a sentence that condemned Evan to a miserable next life, seemed extreme.

I looked over my shoulder to the dark god.

His expression didn’t change. A man had been condemned to his Dungeon, and he still watched the proceeding with a look of contempt.

Daphne laughed.