Page 142 of Death is My Ride or Die

He inhaled a horrible, wheezed breath and coughed, blowing dust all over the tiny space.

“Oh, thank God—”

“No!”Ace’s chest heaved faster and faster into hyperventilation, his nails raking against the dirty marble beneath us.

“Ace it’s me, it’s me,” I said quietly, clutching his hand. “Everything’s okay. It’s Faith.”

“Ma chérie,”he croaked in a parched voice. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I think we’re underground. Maybe underneath the mausoleum?”

Ace heaved a few times. “I’m going to . . . sick.” He crawled to the furthest corner of his tiny prison to vomit.

“What can I do to help?”

He slumped against the wall in exhaustion with his arm sprawled over his stomach. “I could really use a power nap, and maybe an ice cream sundae.”

“Ace . . . ” I trailed off. “Ahrimad, he possessed your body—”

“Oh, I know. He’s gone now. Hence the retching and the unbearable headache.”

We stared at each other for a moment.

“It happened so fast,” Ace began in a quiet, tired voice. “We were disagreeing, Trixie and I. Shouting at each other like an old married couple over something stupid.” He shut his eyes. “They breached the ward at the Crossroads and ambushed us . . . tortured us. I told them that if they let Trixie live, I would concede and serve Ahrimad.” His hand tightened around mine as a tear trailed down his bloody cheek. “They tore her apart in seconds anyway. Because of me . . . ”

“It’s not your fault, Ace,” I said softly, feeling the heaviness of his sorrow was if it were my own. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Me too,ma chérie. Me too.” Ace took a moment to collect himself. “We need an escape plan.”

“Agreed.” I moved toward the bars and peered out into the shadowy space in front of our cells. Angling my head to the left revealed a long hallway with another dim lightbulb hanging from the ceiling at the end. “Without Death, or his reapers, or Malphas, I don’t know how far we could get, but it’s worth a try.”

Ace’s gaze snapped to me in the dark as if something had been slow to register. “Did you sayMalphas? Malphas Cruscellio?”

“Why does everybody have that same reaction whenever I say Malphas?”

“Why would Malphas help us escape?” Ace inquired.

“We entered the mausoleum together,” I said. “Me, Death, and Malphas. I managed to get these magical cuffs on Malphas’s wrists and contained his power. We were going to use him as bait, but then we were in a room of sigils, and Death and Malphas were fevered by empath demons.”

“Empath demons. You weren’t affected by their power?”

“Only Death and Malphas, who were standing within this huge sigil. When the sigil’s energy died down, Death was gone. Which left Malphas and me to defend ourselves. He no longer had the cuffs on, but he didn’t try to hurt me. Instead, he told me to go look for Death and gave me back my sword . . . ”

I sat back on my heels and froze. In the sigil room, Malphas’s hand behind his back hadn’t just rested on the hilt of my sword. It’d rested on the sheath that concealed theBook of the Dead. . .

“Oh my God.”

Panic clicked into place as I rapidly felt around my belt, patting down my armor. The full reality of what this meant was too overwhelming, and blood whooshed in my ears.

Malphas had theBook of the Dead.

My mind whirled.

“We are so screwed,” I said. “I almost trusted Malphas. I almost trusted him when nobody else did. How could I be so stupid?”

“This is not your fault,ma chérie. He’s a formidable demigod of manipulation.”

But the projection, I thought to myself.Was that really all a lie?

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