Page 24 of Virgil's Demons

I don't want your soul. I want your love. And I will only get it through her.

I didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to scream, to fight, to do something to protect her. But the other part—the rational part—knew that I didn't have the power to save her. Not on my own. I needed Death.

I can stop it, Virgil. You know I can.

I took a deep breath, my voice barely a whisper. 'And if I don't concede?'

Then the demon will consume her and another reaper will come and take her away.

I stared at the ghostly figure beside me, its cloaks fluttering around the soft shadows of what once was its face. It reached out with an elongated finger, touching my cheek. Its touch was cold, but not unpleasant. My jaw clenched as it softly caressed my skin. A chilled warmth spread through me, like a strange light in the darkness.

'I cannot love you,' I whispered to Death.

Yes, it whispered back.I am well aware of that. Nobody ever loves Death.

There was a sadness in its voice, a hollow ache that tugged at something deep inside me. For a moment, I wished I could see what it had been before it became this.

I told you I was beautiful. I may be Death, but I am still an angel.

I reached out to touch it, but as my fingers brushed the air, it disappeared, leaving only the faintest trace of its presence.

Its voice lingered in my ear.

I will give you time to think about it. But don't think on it too long, she doesn't have much time.

And then it was gone, leaving me alone in the cold, sterile waiting room, my hands still covered in Barythaya's blood.

VIRGIL

The dense forest behind the Black Pagan property was alive with activity, the roar of motorcycle engines blending with the murmur of conversation. Church had been called out here, but the reason was still a mystery to most of us. Bulldog, ever the strategist, had gathered the brothers, though it wasn't hard to guess it had something to do with the Old Ladies. I parked my bike, taking a moment to survey the scene. It wasn't my usual scene at all. Royal Bastards MC brothers stood in clusters, arms crossed, faces pulled into varying degrees of irritation.

I was new here, still getting the feel of things. Quiet, observant, just the way I liked it. I was slowly earning my place, but it didn't mean I'd been absorbed into the fold yet. And I still wasn't sure I wanted to be.

Bulldog waved me over from where he was standing with Saddle, Hart, and Brimstone. Their faces were grim, which wasn't unusual, the tension in their faces told me this was about more than just another job.

"Virgil," Bulldog nodded. "Good you made it. We've got a situation on our hands."

I raised a brow, staying silent. It was better to listen in this group than speak. Bulldog turned his gaze toward the trail behind him, a deep sigh escaping him.

"Old Ladies are at it again," he muttered, clearly unimpressed. "They want to turn this place into a haunted trail for Halloween. A big event for the community, they say. All for charity, and it's supposed to keep the heat off us."

Halloween events weren't exactly in our wheelhouse. This was a club built on brotherhood, blood, and a rough code of survival—not charity events.

Brimstone's face twisted in disgust. "Sounds like a shit show waiting to happen. Let me guess—my old lady was in on this?"

A scoff escaped Hart. "No surprise. Quiver's always had a wild air when it comes to this kind of thing."

"Yeah, it's her idea," Bulldog admitted, irritation creeping into his tone. "And Aiyana's too. As you all know we've had some issues with the local authorities and when I asked Aiyana for some assistance, I think I may have opened Pandora's box."

Aiyana Leon was Bulldog's Old Lady, she was also a detective for the Port Townsend PD with a link to the FBI.

From what I deterred, the RBMC had their own people infiltrated into the Police Department too. We hadn't seen much of Cipher lately, but I heard he was the member who had gone somewhat rogue. So I could see why Bulldog wanted to calm shit down especially when all eyes were on us lately.

"So you're taking the fall for this?" Hart asked, looking slightly perturbed.

"They think this'll smooth things over with the locals and make us look like decent fucking citizens. I have to admit, as much as I hate the idea. it doesn't hurt."

"Great." Brimstone rolled his eyes. "Just what we need. Dressing up for Halloween like we're part of the Rotary Club."

---