Page 83 of Death is My BFF

Trust me, the last thing I wanted to deal with was more paranormal crap right now. Nevertheless, I’d set my sights on getting to a phone, and this store had an indescribable lure that pulled me farther in. My fingers gripped the velvety fabric of the heavy curtains.

Holding my breath, I yanked them open. Before me was yet another empty room. No axe murderer. My shoulders relaxed a little. At the center of the area sat a circular palm-reading table with a dimly lit, lavish chandelier suspended above it. A crystal ball sat on top of the table. It absorbed any and all light in the room and shimmered with radiance, as if directly beneath the sun.

With my curiosity piqued, I crept farther inside. The room was filled with candles melting at various stages and containers of spices that permeated the air. Jars packed with objects and coins, glass cases displaying lavish jewelry. Scattered here and there were leafy exotic greens, which I thought was odd because there wasn’t any natural sunlight back here. Not that I knew anything about plants; I think I even killed my fake cactus.

I hovered around the ancient-looking artifacts dispersed throughout the room, pausing at a necklace, which gleamed as I glanced over it. The necklace hung on display in a tall, octangular glass box. I had never seen anything so small yet so detailed. It was a dainty gothic cross pendant with a blue gem at the center. The gem was so fascinating I almost didn’t notice the black serpent coiled around the ornament.

Not exactly nunnery fashionwear.

Staring at this pendant, I brushed my fingers against my bare collarbone, where I always wore my communion cross my parents had given me. At the carnival, I’d foolishly thrown it at Death, and now it was never to be seen again. Although I only loosely practiced my Catholic religion, that cross always grounded me, reminding me of my morals and my family.

My family. They were completely in the dark about all of this.

On second thought, maybe it was better I’d lost that necklace; it would have been a constant reminder of the secrets I was keeping from my loved ones. It made me physically ill to keep them in the dark, but I did not want to get them involved in any of this.

The air shifted, and I knew I was no longer alone.

XVI

DEATH

I manifested into my office and discarded my leather jacket. Shadows unfurled from my frame, crawling across the floor, the walls, and the tinted windows, until they plunged the room into complete darkness.

Lightning struck between my eyes in the form of a headache. I gripped my head with a growl and staggered as another bolt rocked my balance. My shin whacked into the coffee table. Inhaling a slow, steady breath, I straightened to my full height and drove my dress shoe down toward the culprit, shattering yet another glass coffee table with a violent stomp.

I dug hastily into the pocket of my pants for two cigarettes. My fingers shook so hard I dropped the damn things. I pinched the roll-ups between my lips, lit them both, and inhaled hard.

Falling back, I sagged into the couch with a satisfied groan and snapped my lighter closed. The temporary illusion over my skin began to fade away, evaporating into the air like smoke. I lifted my hand in front of my face. The false image of bare human fingers wavered like a mirage, until my black leather gloves emerged through the illusion.

“Forget to eat before your hot date?”

I didn’t startle, but I did stiffen at the voice.

Here we go.

In my peripheral, a silhouette of a man sat in the shadows behind my large mahogany desk. His tan fingers steepled together, sapphire eyes daggering into mine.

“Lucifer.” Smoke escaped my nostrils as I snubbed out my roll-ups in an ashtray beside the couch. “I can explain . . . ”

“Have a seat.” He gestured sharply to the chair in front of him.

Rising from the couch, I folded the sleeves of my dress shirt up my tattooed forearms and kept my affect cool. I strode to the desk to lower myself into the armchair. Devin Star leaned away from the shadows and into the light, his mouth curving in a deceivingly friendly manner. I prepared for the worst.

“Did you sleep with her?” His voice held a violent edge.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“I must be,” Lucifer said. “I trusted you to handle this.CarrionAngels, eh? Never knew storytelling was your second calling. You should write a book.”

I maintained a neutral expression. “You were watching us.”

“I needed to see why you were prolonging our plans.” Lucifer picked an imaginary piece of dust off his silken red dress shirt.

“Imagine my surprise when I discovered you’ve been putting on a five-act fucking Shakespeare play for the girl.”

My fingers tapped against the armrest. I scoped out the ceiling as I chose my words with careful precision. “In order for us to utilize her gift, she must be willing and trusting in me. Respectfully, I thought we were on the same page.”

“The same page,” Lucifer repeated, leaning forward in his seat.

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