Page 13 of Death Wish

Days passed and I hadn’t gone back to Kay’s shop.

Why? Because I was scared. I can admit it. Azrael’s threat was a constant throb in the back of my head, and I couldn’t do something to hurt Simon. I couldn’t do it to anyone. Like a good girl, I had concentrated on doing my job only and caused as little commotion as possible. So, you can imagine when my tablet’s green light began blinking rapidly as I left my apartment that evening and Azrael’s face came on my screen, my stomach plummeted to my boots.

“Jade.”

What scared me the most was he wasn’t wearing his famous predatory smile this time. His expression was hard and all seriousness.

I tried my best to not show my worry, but I was replaying every assignment I’d completed in the last few days, wondering where I had slipped up. Swallowing hard, I pushed the panic zooming around my insides from creeping into my voice.

“What’s up, Azrael?”

“I wanted to deliver your next assignment personally,” he said. “Well, in a way.” Still no smile from him. Not even a hint.

His words, though, were surprising. I wasn’t in trouble?

It had to be pretty bad if that was my first thought every time I saw him.

“Oh?” I glanced up and down the sidewalk on Primrose Street, a few blocks down from Kay’s in the living world. I had been given the choice on where to live, so of course I’d chosen Fairport right next to the harbor. The closeness to my friend only made not being able to see her even harder. There was guilt there, too. I had promised her I’d come back, after all.

“Since you’ve been on track these last few days and since you’re in the area, I am taking a leap and giving you a bigger assignment. Something you haven’t done before.”

Uh-oh. Was that supposed to be a compliment? Because it sure as hell didn’t sound like one. It sounded more like he was trying to push me harder, see if I’d slip up again and cause Simon’s Release.

I sucked in a deep breath. I could do it. I had to. For Simon’s sake. He deserved better from me.

And there was the small matter of my pride. I also didn’t want to give Azrael the satisfaction of seeing me fail again. I’d prove him wrong.

As long as it wasn’t another young kid, I’d be fine. Maybe I should tell Azrael that, but something told me he wouldn’t see it the same way I did. He might even assign me to a child’s death on purpose just to prove a point.

“I am sending the details to you now.” He fixed me with a piercing look. “Get it done.”

Then, he was gone. A detailed profile replaced his face.

Cole Robert Masters. Age thirty. Half-demon.

I froze. Woah. A half-demon? That was way out of my pay grade. I wasn’t ready for a supernatural that strong.

Was I?

Azrael obviously thought I was. I should be flattered, and part of me was. But uncertainty reared its ugly head. Normally, Simon handled the big jobs like this. He had the experience and the skills. I was still new. And if I messed this up…

Pushing the thought from my mind, I focused on that small, fleeting bit of confidence I had left. I gripped it and held on tight. This could be my chance to prove myself—to everyone. Including myself.

My past mistakes told me to read the profile before arriving on scene. Cole Masters was a half-demon. I didn’t know much about the race, expect that there weren’t many around because demons—just like haunts—could only cross into the living world during one of the solstices, when the veil was thin enough. They possessed men and slept with unsuspecting females to produce offspring. The babies who survived were cursed with a deadly fire power.

That’s all I knew, but those were the most important parts, right?

Stay away from his fire hands. Got it.

I read the rest of his bio, but didn’t find out much. It seemed a little vague, stating he lived alone most of his life and had been involved in many “underground deals.” Whatever that meant. What I did think was odd was that there was no picture attached to the profile. Azrael always added a photo of the assignment. It made finding the person easier. But for some reason, he hadn’t done it this time.

This definitely had to be a test.

When I thought I had gotten all the information I could out of his profile, I looked at the location typed across the bottom in bold letters. Between forty-five and forty-six Quincy Street, Fairport, Virginia. On the side street of Oh! Kay’s Pastries.

Hurrying over to the front of my apartment building, I ripped the piece of chalk from my jean pocket and drew a spirit door on the bricks. My heart was beating a little too fast—especially for no longer pumping, but it was anxiety circulating throughout my veins this time, not blood. The second the symbols glowed orange, I hopped through to the other side.

In the living world, the rain came down in droves, a terrible storm beating against the old city’s harbor. Wind whipped through the narrow streets and caused the waves to crash against the dock, flooding the walking paths and touristy areas. Even the lamps lining the road rattled with the gusts.

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