by Nick Freo
“Serena Foster is not the same as a coven of witches. That much should be obvious. I can assure you that none of my demons would step out of line, nor would they have the power to kill off a coven without me,” Stephos said.
Lilah glanced at me. “Young demons are just like young, troubled humans. They could have been lying to increase their street cred. To appear tough. They’ll take credit for anything that makes them sound like a threat.”
“They were young demons?” Stephos hissed, his jaw clenched. “You took the word of two young demons? The Arbiter put you in charge? A jury or a judge wouldn’t take the word of a couple of young demons. How stupid could you be?”
I took another step toward him. He took a quick step back, but he didn’t break eye contact.
“I swear on Belial, I’m going to take this up with the Celestial Court. You did all of this for nothing, and I can’t wait to see you burn for it.”
With one last nervous look toward me, he pivoted on his heel. His two subordinates followed behind him, one of them badly limping.
I spun the ring on my finger. It felt looser like it was judging me too, but it was likely the blood seeping underneath it. I glanced down at it, trying to look past the bloodbath underneath my feet and the bodies spread around us. There was such a contrast between the stark whiteness of the ring and the dark red of the blood that covered most of my hands that it was hard to believe that it meant I was more aligned with the angels. This didn’t feel sanctified at all.
Demons were evil. I had a right to destroy them. They were everything that was wrong in the world, and I only prevented future harm by ending their lives. It didn’t matter whether or not they had actually done anything wrong when it came to the witches’ murders. They would have done something similar in the future.
I looked over at Lilah. She was staring down at the bodies, her fingernail scraping against her lower lip. She was a demon. She’d saved my life twice today. She wasn’t evil. She didn’t need to be killed and didn’t deserve to be killed. The duality of these beliefs burrowed in my brain.
“Let’s go,” I said. I stepped around the dead bodies, which was beginning to feel like a familiar dance. Lilah and Cara followed behind me. The world kept spinning, but I couldn’t help but think that Heaven and Hell weren’t going to be quite as passive. There would be trouble coming and I was the precipice.
Chapter 18
The sound of the steak sizzling drilled inside my head.
“Lilah, do you need to be making steak sandwiches right now?” I asked. Cara looked up from where she’d been resting her head on the kitchen table.
“I need to tenderize something,” she said. “I figured this was better than someone’s face. I’d say that you should understand why I feel that way, but you healed away all your pain, didn’t you?”
She chopped the steak using a flipper. The pan scraped against the oven grates every time.
Cara rested her head on her hand. “The demon community is notoriously tight-knit. She may be upset for a while.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that. I get it. What about the witches? Were they tight-knit before they were all murdered?” I stood up, kicking back my chair. “Everyone is so concerned about the demons. What about the witches? Are human lives less worthy of attention?”
“Of course not,” Cara said. “I just wanted to explain why Lilah was—”
“Keep my name out of your mouth,” Lilah sang, not even looking around. A chunk of steak bounced off the pan as she whacked it with the flipper.
“This is some bullshit.” I turned, ready to leave the kitchen. A tremor passed through me. I looked back at Cara and Lilah to see if they had felt it too. Cara stood up.
“Mr. Gray must be here,” she said. As if she had summoned him, Mr. Gray walked into the kitchen. He was wearing the same clothes as always. In contrast to how I was feeling, he looked entirely too well-rested.
“So…” he said. “According to a prestigious and seething source, the three of you have been industrious.”
“Mr. Gray,” Cara said. “I’m so sorry. The story is very complicated.”
“Belial came to the Celestial Court,” Mr. Gray continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “He mentioned several murders committed by the Arbiter and—I will quote his words here since it would be presumptuous for me to assume he was referring to Cara and Lilah—a prissy pigeon and a traitor.”
“Mr. Gray, all of that is true, but I was going off information that the demons had told me,” I said. “They confessed to the murders of a coven of witches.”
Mr. Gray waved away my explanation, not even flinching at the mention of mass murder.
“The fiasco will be dealt with,” he said. “What I would like to know is if you have been productive with your investigation of your father’s murder. Did Serena provide you with useful information?”
“We haven’t found her yet,” I said. “She’s proving to be very talented at hiding.”
“It is quite probable that she is pertinent to your father’s murder. It’s crucial that you locate her.”
“I know,” I said, letting my impatience slip into my tone. “I’m trying. All of us are trying. Other things keep popping up. Like supernatural beings trying to kill us.”
The doorbell rang.
“You don’t need to answer that,” Cara blurted. “All of us are here. It has to be the demons or the Dead Man.”
Lilah snorted, turning off the stove. “Yeah, sure, someone who wants to murder all of us is going to use the doorbell. Heaven forbid they were rude guests to the people they were about to murder.”
“They could want to take him by surprise when he opens the door. Besides, the door is warded. They either need to be invited or lure Kyle outside.”
“He can’t hide in this mansion forever,” Lilah said. “We’ve seen Kyle in action now. Clearly, being linked to both of us does make him more powerful. If it gets out of control, we can help.”
“It’s fine. I’ll answer it,” I said, moving around Mr. Gray. “I need to own up to my actions if I’m going to be the Arbiter.”
“You’re not going to be Arbiter when you’re dead,” Cara said, moving quickly to stay a step behind me.
“But at least you’ll die knowing you’re not a coward,” Lilah countered, moving to the other side behind me.
We walked to the door, which seemed much closer than it had been before. I grasped the door handles, took a breath and opened the doors.
I expected Stephos, ready to retaliate. I expected the Dead Man, ready to reach forward and kill me. Belial and Michael were not high on my list of expected guests, but I had a track record of being wrong lately.
“Arbiter,” Belial spit out. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pressed tightly together. Heat rolled off of him like he was a furnace. “I hope you have some damn good explanations for the slaughter you’ve committed.”
He stepped in, unprompted, like last time. Michael followed, close behind him, the slightest curve of a smile on his lips.
“You are being melodramatic, Belial,” Michael said, closing the door behind him. “Be honest to yourself about the situation. Your demons are reckless and dumb. Nobody is ever surprised to hear that they had to be dealt with.”
“Stay out of this, Michael,” Belial snarled. He stared right at me. I could see literal flames flickering in his eyes, almost encompassing his whole iris. I felt the chill and heat of Cara and Lilah on either side of me. “He killed in cold-blood. He stepped out of line and killed good soldiers. Blood should be paid with blood.”
He lunged forward. Cara and Lilah stepped up together in front of me like they were mirrored images. Belial stumbled back, his eyes shifting back and forth between Cara and Lilah before landing solely on Lilah.
“You need to step aside,” he told her.
“You need to step back,” she replied. Michael burst out laughing.
“Holy Heaven, this is glorious. You give a direct order and your subordinate openly defies you. Y
ou’re losing power so quickly, Belial. You might want to swoop back down to Hell and check if anyone even remembers your name.” He smirked, gazing at Lilah. His gaze shifted over to Cara. He turned his head toward Belial, but before he looked at him, he jerked his head back to Cara. He studied Cara. He shifted his gaze to Lilah. He tilted his head, a frown starting to develop. He turned to my right, looking past Cara. A cold breeze swept through the room. “Mr. Gray, what is going on?”
Cara and I turned to look at Mr. Gray. Lilah didn’t move, her eyes focused on Belial.
“You need to be a bit more specific,” Mr. Gray said. “I could inform you of many current events. Stockholm is a center of excitement right now.”
Michael gestured to me. “These two should not be as devoted to the new Arbiter as they are. One of them could be through the soul-marriage, but not two of them.”
“As a matter of fact, both of them could be devoted to him through soul-marriage,” Mr. Gray said.
“Forgive me, but what are you talking about?” Michael said. “He can’t have two souls to share.”
“You are right. He is not the owner of two souls.” Mr. Gray shrugged. “It is a mystery the universe has granted us. He sold his soul twice. He is a vessel of the powers of Heaven and the powers of Hell. Cara and Lilah are both capable of experiencing human depth, and they are equally invested in the safety of the Arbiter.”
Michael’s nostrils flared. Belial took a step toward Mr. Gray, his fists clenched.
“Tell me that you are full of shit right now,” Belial demanded.
“This is against all regulation,” Michael interjected. “It’s downright sacrilegious. It’s against the laws of the Celestial Court. We have these rules for a reason and that reason isn’t so some human can break them.”
Belial cracked his knuckles. “I should have known something deceptive was happening. There was no way he could have taken on so many brethren without cheating the system. Humans have no honor.”
“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t expect them to be honorable,” Michael said. “This is preposterous. Mr. Gray, this is exceedingly disappointing. It was your job to assist the new Arbiter.”
Mr. Gray shrugged. “I completed the necessary steps to assist him in becoming what was required for him to fulfill his role as Arbiter.”
The fire in Belial’s eyes continued to rampage, but he kept his arms close to his chest as he observed me. Michael stared at me, rubbing along his jawline, his expression bouncing between concern and indignation. It felt like I was the map of a country that he wanted to conquer.
“We’ve played nice for a long time,” Belial growled. “But any demon would rather kiss Michael’s ass before they let someone murder their brothers in cold blood without reciprocation. And if they decide to raise Hell, I may be temporarily distracted by my grief over the loss of my brothers.”
Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “Mr. Gray, you’re walking a dangerous path. I suggest you think twice about your actions and your inaction.”
“Fuck all of you,” Belial hissed.
Heat swallowed the room. I kept my eyes on Belial this time as a flash of hellfire flared around him and he disappeared. Michael glanced at Cara, shaking his head. The subzero temperature slammed through the room so quickly, my heart began to race in a panic, but it slowed down as Michael disappeared in a flicker of light.
I turned to Mr. Gray. It was reassuring and slightly concerning that he appeared as stoic as ever.
“Do you think Michael could be right?” I asked. “Are we going down a dangerous path?”
He shrugged again. “A substantial amount of time has passed since the last angel and demon shared the soul of any individual, and it didn’t end well.”
“You’re telling me this now?” I demanded. “You couldn’t have told me when I asked you to give part of my soul to Cara?”
“The last angel and demon dual soul-sharing is ancient history,” he said. “And we did what was necessary. I understood the risks and weighed it against the risk of Armageddon. My hypothesis was that Armageddon would be a significantly worse outcome than what would occur if you married your soul to an angel and demon.”
“He still deserved to know,” Cara said.
Lilah leaned against the door. “I never thought I’d say this word, but amen.”
The doorbell rang again. Lilah jerked away from it.
“Fucking hell,” Lilah muttered. “Can we not catch a break? Does nobody use a phone anymore? At least call, so we can ignore it more easily?”
“I feel like, at this point, your chance of that being angry demons or the Dead Man is pretty high,” Cara said to me.
“That’s not true.” Lilah took a step back toward me. “It could be Belial, deciding he wanted to try to kill you after all.”
I rubbed my temple. They were likely right. It was lucky that I wasn’t killed the moment I opened the door last time. But I said I’d face my punishment that last time, and I didn’t see the point of backing down now.
I opened the door.
Or it could be absolutely nobody at the door.
I stepped out onto the stone steps. Something crinkled under my foot. I lift my leg and picked up a black envelope. As I started to open it, Cara grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me back in.
“It’s like you want to be murdered,” she said, closing the door. I finished opening the envelope. Inside, there was a small piece of white paper. Somebody had written to me with a heavy hand in pencil.
Kyle,
I have important information concerning your father. Come to Second Circle on Irving Street. Do not bring anyone else.
Tucked at the bottom of the envelope was a strip of tattered black cloth. The Dead Man had summoned me.
Chapter 19
“Who is it from?” Cara asked. I ignored her, dropping the envelope and opening the doors again. Before she could grab me, I ran down into the driveway. I could hear Lilah and Cara pursuing me, but I kept running, surveying the yard until I reached the road. I looked east and west, but it was empty.
Lilah nearly crashed into me. She grabbed onto my shoulder to stop herself from falling.
“What the fuck, man?” she asked. “Did you run track or something? Why did you run outside? You know that people want to kill you, right?”
Cara slowed down in front of us. I barely glanced at either of them.
“Which way would the Dead Man go?” I demanded. “Quick. I’m stronger now. I need to deal with him.”
“The Dead Man?” Cara asked. “That’s who sent the letter?”
“He’s gone by now, Kyle,” Lilah said, but her body had tensed and she was scrutinizing every object down either side of the road. “Let’s get you back inside. We can strategize there.”
“No.” I stepped away from both of them, but her words were sinking in. She was right. For all I knew, he could appear and disappear like Mr. Gray. When he had disappeared last night—hidden in Lilah’s hellfire—he had been right in front of the house. He had disappeared so easily, he might be more of a ghost than undead. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Lilah and Cara walked beside me as I followed the path back to the mansion. When we were back inside, Mr. Gray was standing in the entrance, his face passive like nothing had happened.
I turned to Lilah. “You’ve mentioned Irving Street before.”
Her eyes lit up for a second before her shoulders slumped. “Kyle, even I don’t think it’s a good time to go to Crater. Alcohol can definitely solve many problems, but you’d run the risk of meeting some very angry demons.”
“I don’t care about Crater. Have you heard of Second Circle?”
She nodded. “Of course. It’s a strip club owned by demons. It’s a Dante reference. The second circle of Hell is for those overcome with lust. Sometimes, we’re so inappropriately clever.”
“Kyle, what’s this about? What does the letter say?” Cara asked. I handed it to her. She read it aloud. “Kyle, I have important informati
on concerning your father. Come to Second Circle on Irving Street. Do not bring anyone else. He must know that you’re not going to do that.”
“Cara, he just ran out of the house to try to catch the Dead Man,” Lilah said. “I’m fairly certain the Dead Man knows that Kyle will do that.”
I ran my fingers over the hole in the cloth, ignoring their banter. “He left a piece of his clothing in the envelope. He must have not wanted to sign it.”
“Kyle, you can’t do this,” Cara said. I took the letter from her and reread it. Important information. I crushed the cloth in my hand.
“If you agreed to his request, I would consider it a reckless and colossal miscalculation,” Mr. Gray said. I turned toward him. His brow was furrowed, and he kept tugging on his trench coat sleeves. Finally, a reaction from the world-class stoic.
“If you could elaborate, that’d be great because our goal this whole time has been to find out who killed my father,” I said. “And the Dead Man seems to be deeply involved in his murder.”
He sighed. For every second that he hadn’t shown emotion, it seemed like every single one of them crossed over his face at this moment. He tapped his fingers over his lips as if he was trying to silence himself.
“Mr. Gray,” I said. “If you don’t tell me anything, my opinion isn’t going to change. I need answers. The Dead Man is saying that he has them.”
“You do not need to compel me to tell you, Mr. Bishop.” He tapped his fingers over his lips again. “I informed you before that I had my suspicions about the reasons for your capability of marriage to two souls. Do you recall that?”
“That was yesterday.”
He stared at me, waiting.
“Yes, I recall you mentioning that you had suspicions,” I said.
“May I see your right hand?” he asked. I showed him my right hand. He gestured to the ring. “Currently, with the circumstances, facts, and knowledge at my disposal, I have only reached one theory. That theory proposes that this ring your father gave you is a soul prism.”
The whiteness of the ring almost seemed blinding at this point. “Can you explain any further than that?”
