Page 5 of Death is My Ride or Die

I skidded to a stop in front of Faith’s house and then jogged up the lawn.

“She just appeared there.” Leo manifested beside me, cloaked in darkness. “I placed an enchantment on her parents so they won’t wake up.”

I approached her bedroom window and hovered my hand over the glass. The protective magical ward I’d placed around her home remained.

“Malphas must have materialized her inside,” Leo said, aligned with my thoughts. “One moment, the room was empty; the next, she was there. Think it’s a trap?”

Peering through the glass, I saw Faith’s petite figure sprawled across her bed. I couldn’t tell if her chest was moving, and Ace’s stomach felt like lead. She couldn’t be . . . dead?

Uttering rapid Latin under my breath, I dismantled the ward. Then I gripped her bedroom window and raised the pane.

“What are you doing? You’ll incapacitate yourself.”

Creatures of the night couldn’t enter a mortal’s house without permission.

“Ace is a neutral entity,” I said. “Might be a loophole.”

Thankfully, I was right.

I hurried to the bed and pressed two fingers to Faith’s neck. Her pulse was very slow at first but quickened as I whispered her name. I suspected this was my father’s doing. His mind control had exhausted her consciousness. She would come to soon.

I cast a glance at Leo. “Go to the ball. Say nothing to Lucifer yet. I’m handling this.”

“Yes, my lord.” Leo melted into the night.

I turned back toward Faith, my mood darkening.

She looked peaceful, porcelain . . . angelic.

And I wanted to make her fall.

Fall into my never-ending hell.

Time to get this show on the road.

Bracing my hand beside her head on the pillow, I leaned into the shell of her ear. “Awaken, my traitor.”

III

Faith

A blustery blast of air swirled through my bedroom window, startling me into an awareness that I was no longer alone. I stuffed the dagger quickly beneath my leg.

“Bonjour, mon ange!”

I whipped my head from the window and met the bright violet eyes of the man now standing in my room. Everything still felt dreamlike, detached, and in my brief dissociation, I didn’t think he was real. The warlock from the Crossroads bookshop wore a purple satin suit jacket with an ornate Victorian tapestry vest beneath. Luxurious black velvet lapels and metal buttons down the center decorated the vest. His pants matched the obsidian fabric lining the jacket.

“Ace?”

He bowed theatrically and twisted his hand in a fast gesture, producing a red rose from thin air. “Ton sourire est un don.Your smile is a gift.”

“What—what are you doing here? In my bedroom?” I inhaled the fragrance of the flower’s petals, which blossomed to life in my hand.

Ace checked his watch.

“Oh là là.We are going to be late! We should leave as soon as possible.Dès que possible.” Those colorful eyes drifted over my clothes, which still showed signs of the attack in the corn maze. “First, I will need to cook you up something creative to wear”—he tapped my knee playfully with the large octagon-shaped crystal at the head of his golden cane—“since I’m your dashing date for tonight!”

I swung my legs over the bed, tucking the blade discreetly into the back of my jeans. “Now hold on, Frenchy.You’rethe escort Malphas mentioned? The one who’s supposed to make sure I get thejobdone tonight?”

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