I freeze, then drop to my knees. Bile surges up my throat as I hunch over the dark wood floor, dry heaving. It’s me. My body. Pale and lifeless. I’m the reason they’re crying. My body lies at the front of the room on a pyre surrounded by flowers, like an offering to the heavens. Azrael places the flower on my chest before hanging his head and retreating into the shadows—silent and stoic as usual.
I scream, but the sound is swallowed before it ever leaves my lips. The room spins. Darkness and shadows consume every bit of light. I’m falling and then—
My eyes fly open. I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart race, and fall back against my pillow. But the relief is short-lived. The dream felt real—too real. I’m drenched in sweat but thankful it was only a creepy dream.
Sleep still lingers, threatening to pull me back under, but I’m terrified. I fight it until I can’t resist its embrace any longer. This time, when I fall asleep, I’m far too exhausted to dream. Instead, I fall into a deep, dreamless slumber—only waking when the sun pierces through the window coverings, warming my face, while birds sing a sweet good morning song outside. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I breathe a tired sigh of relief.
Chapter 6
Azrael
Mercy insisted on walking the last stretch home alone. I relented, but only because I fully intended to follow her, cloaked in darkness, watching from afar to ensure her continued safety. If her father caught us, well—I can only imagine the worst. As much as I wanted to deliver her to the door, this plan of deceit was for the best. For her safety. And for her father’s. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Deep down, I know it’s because I selfishly needed just a few more stolen moments with her. I’ll take every last second I can get before we’re forced apart again. Fate is cruel. The only person I’ve ever allowed to get close is dangling right here in front of me… but she isn’t mine to claim.
I crouch low behind a row of bushes, conveniently lending themselves to my spying. Once she closes the door behind her, I memorize exactly where she lives so I can keep an eye on her. I carefully retrace my steps, engraving the route as I go. My thoughts are a scattered mess as I make my way to the looming striped tent in the distance.
Mercy is safe and sound—for now. But tonight was a close call. What was she thinking going out all alone like that? Why was the snatcher stalking her like prey? The questions come in rapid succession, one after another, as I turn them over and over again in my head. I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve put her in danger. This is exactly why I told her we couldn’t be friends anymore.
Around me, my shadows swirl in a frenzy that matches my discontent. The air crackles and sizzles as my magic threatens to break free, wreaking havoc on the sleepy little town. How could I be so reckless? I’ve told her we can’t be around each other, and then did the opposite. I encouraged her to sneak around, rewarding her with flowers and stolen moments together. And now she’s gone beyond sneaking into the circus—she’s wandering the streets alone after dark like a lamb in a wolf’s den. This is all my fault. Instead of keeping her safe, I’ve led her straight into danger.
I slink through the town, stuck in my distraught tangle of thoughts, while my magic pulsates with an immense desire to be set free. A gray mist settles in the clouds above, mirroring my dark web. Clenching my teeth together, I fight to regain control of my emotions. What I really need is a distraction. As if the universe can hear my pleas, the vial hums in my pocket, reminding me of my original task.
Instinctively, I slip my hand into my pocket to ensure the small vial is still intact with the lid secure. I don’t have much time to spare. Night is upon us, and a curfew is in effect. If I’m caught out, there will surely be trouble. The townspeople, as usual, are pointing fingers at the circus and blaming us for the recent surge in disappearances. If only they understood how much—andwhat—we are protecting them from. Maybe then they wouldn’t be so quick to hate us. Happy to have a narrative to control the masses and evoke fear and oppression, the law has only further driven these false accusations. Something I’m reminded of far more often than I’d like. I’m not about to go asking for trouble or leaving an open invitation for anyone to come poking around the big top, so I walk faster.
There’s the more obvious reason I crave the false safety of the barrier. I just left a corpse in the alley. Eventually, someone will notice. Hopefully sooner rather than later, for the sake of the people living nearby. Dead bodies tend to stink. This one reeked even before death claimed it.I chuckle quietly, creeping along, slipping between houses and darting behind trees. If they continue to zero in on Mercy, this will only be the first of many bodies. A gust of wind blows the cool mist against my skin, answering my simmering rage at the thought of the Divine hunting her.
The circus stands ominously in front of me at the edge of town. Familiarity prickles beneath my skin with each step I take, drawing me closer to the barrier. As I step through the wrought-iron gates and over the property line, I immediately feel the cold tendrils of the dark magic snaking around in an embrace, binding to me.
The scent of tobacco mixed with emberleaf burns my nostrils as I shuffle through the dirt lot of the circus to the Ringmaster’s office. Either the others are indulging in the tempting effects, or the Ringmaster is impatiently waiting for me. In answer, trash blows across the emptiness and peanut shells rattle along beside them in the wind. No voices can be heard anywhere. There’s noshow tonight, giving the big top an eerie atmosphere. The silence can only mean one thing as I approach the side door of our oversized mansion.
This entrance leads directly to the Ringmaster’s office. Rapping lightly on the door, I wait to be invited in by Malicor, the Ringmaster’s sinister assistant. Part shadow, part bone, he speaks only in an eerie whisper. On cue, he hisses, “Azrael, enter. Master has been expecting you.”
The door creaks open slowly, and Malicor’s presence fills the space before I even lay eyes on him. I shudder as a chill creeps down my spine. His black velvet robes flow to the floor, the hood surrounds his glowing ember eyes. Despite being barely half my size, the small demonic creature is every bit as terrifying as any towering monster. He’ll eat your soul if you look too closely into those deadly, ruby-stained orbs. He’s the collector of debts, keeper of contracts—bound to our bloodline by the oath of the hellfire magically branded into the tethers of his soul.
“Come in,” the Ringmaster drawls, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. “You’ve kept me waiting.”
“For good reason,” I reply, cocking my head in a bit of a challenge.
He narrows his eyes into a glare that sends my smile fleeing. I clear my throat, reaching into my pockets to thumb the vial.
“Master,” Malicor screeches. “He has something for you.”
“Is that true?” the Ringmaster growls, leaning back in his chair and taking a long inhale from his pipe.
“I was planning to surprise you with the good news, but he forgot to hold his tongue.” Venom coats my words as I shoot Malicor a glare sharp enough to slice even his shadows lurking beneath the robe.
“Well, hand it over, boy.”
My fingers rub against the smooth glass, rolling it between them before pulling it out and laying it on the desk for him to inspect.
“Excellent,” the Ringmaster says, eyeing the vial as a crooked smile spreads across his lips.
“Excellent,” Malicor echoes in his annoying, raspy voice.
The silence stretches, unbearable, but I know better than to break it before the Ringmaster does.
“I will deliver this to the Underworld.” He snatches it from me, “This is what Lucifer asked for, I assume?”
Gulping, I stall in order to collect my thoughts. I’m not exactly eager to admit that it’s only a snatcher and not the hunter. “Hopefully, he’ll be pleased to know that even though it’s not the hunter, it is a snatcher.”
