Page 89

“The heir cannot—the contract does not—the gift was not meant to⁠—”

“The gift was exactly what I said it was,” I said, my voice layered now, echoing with the Entity's own power. “Freely given. Witnessed. Recorded. And now it’s mine. All of it. The hunger. The darkness. The power. Mine.”

The Entity’s form collapsed inward, the black tendrils dissolving into smoke. Evangeline’s body crumpled to the ground, empty and lifeless, and I felt the Entity’s essence pour into me, not erasing me but merging with me, becoming part of me.

For one brief, exhilarating moment, I thought I had won.

Then the floor beneath us split open with a sound like breaking bone.

But I couldn’t move. Suspended in the air, the Entity’s power burned through me, rewriting me from the inside out. I felt my body change, something dark and hungry taking root in my chest as the House’s accumulated appetite became mine.

“Zinnia!” Malachi lunged toward me, but the ground between us fractured and dropped away into absolute void.

I tried to move, tried to reach for him, but the Entity’s power burned through me like acid, rewriting me from the inside out. My limbs locked. My spine arched backward. Something dark and hungry took root in my chest, the House's accumulated appetite becoming mine, and I felt my body begin to change.

Then the core reset.

The amphitheater snapped back into place with brutal, mechanical precision. The bone tiers reformed. The witnesses reappeared in their seats, silent and waiting. The filing cabinets stood upright again, their drawers sealed. Evangeline’s body rose from the floor, pulled upright by invisible strings, and her black eyes opened.

The Entity’s voice poured from her mouth, layered and inhuman, resonating through stone, membrane, and iron.

Chapter 16

Zinnia

“HURT” BY JOHNNY CASH

“The Devil made his choice a century ago,” the Entity said, its blackened eyes fixed on the man beside me. “He chose power. He chose immortality. He chose to walk beside the first Keeper and build an empire from other people’s suffering.”

Beside me, Malachi stood rigid, blood still welling from the gashes carved across his torso. His scarred hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, his jaw locked tight against the pain, but his gray eyes never wavered from the dais.

“And now I offer him the same choice again.”

A violent tremor ran through the chamber. The bone tiers dissolved into black vapor, sweeping away the spectral witnesses and leaving only the five of us on the cracked floor: me, Malachi, Rook, Khaos, and Dahlia.

“Walk away, Devil,” the Entity commanded through Evangeline’s cold mouth. “Take your freedom. Take your power. Take everything you were promised in 1898, and leave the heir to fulfill her purpose.”

“No,” Malachi said, his voice flat and hard.

“You misunderstand. This is not a negotiation. This is a gift.”

The air grew heavy with the stench of old blood, ozone, and scorched tallow. Black flames flared to life in the iron sconces circling Dahlia’s chair. Along the stone seams, a viscous, ink-dark fluid seeped from the mortar, pooling across the floorboards and creeping toward our boots like an encroaching tide.

“You betrayed her once,” the Entity continued, stepping closer with unnatural grace. “You chose ambition over devotion. You sealed the original contract with your silence, allowing Evangeline Vale to claim what should have been yours. Now you have the opportunity to repeat your masterpiece.”

A faint tremor ran through Malachi’s hands, but he didn’t step back.

“Leave her here,” the Entity urged. “Let the House complete what it began. In exchange, I will sever the Devil’s function. You will walk out of these halls with your life, your freedom, and the knowledge that you survived when no one else could.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Malachi growled.

“You do not mean that.”

“I mean every word of it.” Stepping in front of me, he faced the creature wearing Evangeline’s flesh. “You want me to choose? I choose her.”

“You chose power before.”

“I know.”