Suzi still felt the sting in her arms from Bear’s claws. Everett doctored and bandaged them as she described how she’d fought and captured Malphas, Rotic’al, and Bortis. Her voice wavered a little when she reached the part about soaking the demons in holy-water aquamation for hours, then losing Bortis afterward. The memory of it made her skin prickle. She tried to shake off the lingering sense of failure.
“And thus…‘Demon Reaper’ was born,” Dr. Everett said, half-amused, half-concerned.
Darcy shot Suzi a wicked grin. “A Rage demon, a Greed demon, and a Pride demon walk into a bar…”
A tight laugh escaped Suzi. She wasn’t sure she found any of it funny, but the attempt at levity eased her tension.
“They’re not usually a trio that works together,” Everett added, tapping a pen against his thigh. “They come from different generals, so there’s definitely someone higher up pulling the strings.”
Suzi nodded, shoulders stiffening. “It has to be whoever was controlling you while you were possessed.” She glanced at Everett. “When Bortis’s vessel was destroyed, wouldn’t he have gone back to Hell?”
“Yes,” Everett confirmed. “He would’ve returned to face Lucifer—or at least one of Lucifer’s captains—to explain his failure. But honestly, I doubt Lucifer is pissed at you personally. And the ones Darcy found fixated on you are each from different generals, too.”
Across the room, Bear slouched, looking woozy as hell, but still managed to mutter, “We can ask Bezos.”
Suzi blinked. “What kind of demon is Bezos?”
Darcy and Everett exchanged a look, and a faint smile curved Everett’s lips. “Amazonian?” he joked, giving Darcy a sideways glance.
Darcy looked at Suzi, waiting for the realization to set in.
It took Suzi a second. Then she blurted, “Jeff Bezos is a demon!?”
Everett burst out laughing.
“No, meuf stupide,” Darcy corrected, tone dripping with mock exasperation. “He’s a celestial. One of the worst kinds, if you ask me.”
Suzi bristled, hearing that phrase. She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just call me your stupid girlfriend?”
“Oui,” Darcy drawled, blowing a cheeky kiss through the air.
Everett cleared his throat, too tired for more of their bickering. “We’ll talk to Bezos. He’s an information broker—sells intel on anyone to anyone, for the right price. Meanwhile, Darcy and Bear will watch your back. I’ll contact him to see what he knows and what it’ll cost us.”
Suzi crossed her arms, ignoring Darcy’s taunting grin. “I’m going to the hospital tonight to visit my husband,” she said, shooting Darcy a pointed look, “then my apartment, then work tomorrow. And I have an art party tomorrow night.”
Bear, pale but trying to rally, managed a half-smile. “I’ll make sure to dress up.”
Darcy snorted, “Comatose husband,” the sneer in her voice barely masked by playful flirting.
“Rrrourr,” Annie purred at the edge of Suzi’s mind
“Down girl,” Ralph’s voice murmured.
Dr. Everett checked his watch and directed Suzi toward the exit. “You’d better go if you want to see Aiden before visiting hours end.”
“What time is it?” She patted her pockets, searching for her phone.
“Seven-forty,” Everett said.
She deflated, slumping her shoulders, cursing under her breath. “I’ll never make it in time.”
Darcy, arms bent like a prom date, cleared her throat. “Ah-hem.”
Suzi sighed, stepping in to take Darcy’s offered elbow. “Chicago South Hos—”
Before she could finish, the air around them seemed to twist and reverberate with energy, and suddenly they emerged in the women’s bathroom on the ICU floor.
Suzi’s stomach lurched from the disorienting skip. “…pital.” She blew out a breath and forced herself not to stumble. “Thanks,” she added warily, half expecting Darcy to demand some kind of favor in return.
But Darcy just smirked.
Suzi detached herself and hurried to the nurse’s station, snagging Aiden’s updated room info. Giddy relief flooded her when she found him: unconscious, plastered with casts, the hiss of the breathing machine providing a steady beat. She placed a hand on his foot, inhaling the antiseptic ICU air and trying not to tear up.
“You could’ve waited for me,” Darcy said from the doorway.
Suzi tensed. “Why are you here?”
Darcy folded her arms. “Because the doc said you need a bodyguard until we know who’s after you.”
Her tone stung. “I can take care of myself. I’m immortal, remember?”
Darcy’s lip curled. “Which makes you prime property for demons. If they manage to possess you, they become immortal, too. Plus, they’d have your will—and your ability.”
A chill slid through Suzi’s veins. She pulled her hand away from Aiden’s foot, the memory of Bortis and the aquamation swirling in her head.
“Darcy…this is Aiden, my husband,” she said quietly. “Aiden, Darcy.” Her voice wobbled in a mix of defeat and frustration. She sank into the guest chair with a heavy sigh.
Darcy offered a half-mocking curtsey. “Enchanté, monsieur.”
Suzi busied herself texting Reed, Rio, and Ruth with Aiden’s new room info, while Darcy prowled around, poking at the IV tubes and monitors. Suzi kept shooting her pointed looks, wishing she’d go fetch coffee or something so Suzi could have a private moment. When a nurse arrived to inform them visiting hours were over, she cursed under her breath.
“Party pooper,” Darcy muttered, jerking her thumb at the nurse’s retreating back.
“Yeah.” Suzi hated how childishly glum she sounded. She leaned over Aiden’s bed, pressed a kiss to her own fingertips, and touched his foot again. “I love you,” she whispered.
Darcy once again offered her elbow, voice dropping to a subdued murmur. “Why not ask for a favor to heal him? He’d be good as new.”
Suzi let her hand slip away from Aiden’s cast, sliding it into the crook of Darcy’s elbow . “Because the last time I asked for a favor, the angel ended up stuck in a hundred years of servitude as a human,” she said flatly. “And I still have no idea what it cost me.”
Darcy shrugged as if that meant nothing. “A hundred years for an angel is nothing. Hell, some of them like the experience. And this is your husband,” she emphasized.
Before Suzi could protest, Darcy stepped them away. In a flash, they were in Suzi’s apartment. Ygritte barked, standing stiff-legged on the couch, startled by the intruders.
“Cute dog,” Darcy sneered.
“Ygritte, hush,” Suzi said firmly, reaching out to scratch the pit-bull behind the ears. The dog settled, still glaring at Darcy with mild suspicion.
Suzi tried to gather her wits. “I appreciate you jumping me around, but I need my car. I can’t rely on you to haul me everywhere.”
Darcy’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Why not? I can pop you anywhere. Any time. No traffic, no waiting, no problem.”
Suzi’s cheeks heated. She sought a rational argument, but nothing came. “I…I’m sure you have your own stuff to do.”
Darcy’s grin widened, full of mischief. “I have plenty. But right now, you’re top of my ‘To do’ list.”
“Oh, my!” Annie said, blushing.
“Oh, lord!” James said dismissively.
“Oh, god!” Judith said, concerned.
They ended up chatting most of the night—about everything from Suzi’s old life, her trust fund, her job, to Darcy’s centuries of experiences. By midnight, they’d polished off two bottles of wine. By one in the morning, tequila shots replaced the wine glasses. Suzi’s head buzzed with warmth and a flood of curiosity about Darcy, especially the swirl of rumors and half-truths she’d picked up about Joan of Arc.
Stolen novel; please report.
The conversation turned more personal. Suzi finally asked about Darcy’s sexuality, half-dreading an explosive reaction. But Darcy just gazed into her shot glass, swirling the amber liquid.
“I’ve always been attracted to women,” Darcy admitted quietly, lips curving in a wry smile. “I don’t think of myself as gay or straight. I’m just…me. But inside, I’m a man in a woman’s body. Died as a teenage girl, got stuck like this forever. Even when I was a kid, I dressed like my brothers, wanted to do the shit they did. I had gender confirmation surgery twice: once in Germany in the 1920s and again in ’99, but it never stuck. I thought I could keep from reverting with enough exerted concentration, but it’s more difficult than it seems. The first time it lasted about two weeks. The second was about six weeks.”
Suzi felt her throat tighten. “God, Darcy. I can’t imagine that constant heartbreak.”
“It’s all right,” Darcy said, though a flicker of pain glinted in her eyes. “I’ve mostly come to terms with it. I’m forever a teen girl who wants to be a man. And what’s worse? I died a virgin. So that’s it for me—eternally a virgin. Doesn’t matter how many lifetimes pass.”
Sympathy rushed through Suzi’s veins. She scooted closer on the couch, wrapping Darcy in a tight hug. “I’m sorry. You must feel so…trapped.”
Darcy returned the hug with a soft sigh.
Suzi drew back, searching Darcy’s face. “Have you considered another celestial? Someone who might understand?”
Darcy’s expression shifted, a teasing spark lighting her eyes. “You?” she purred.
Suzi laughed under her breath. “I meant in general,” she clarified. “There must be others, right?”
Suzi blinked as Darcy’s words filtered through the wine-fog in her head. They’d been talking about past relationships—celestials Darcy had messed around with through the centuries—and Suzi found herself both fascinated and horrified by the mention of Darcy’s “eternal virginity.”
Darcy leaned against the couch, hair tousled, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, from time to time, I’ll date other celestials.” She shrugged, draining the last drops of tequila in her glass. “Erzabet and I had a thing, but she was into some weird shit. My whole ‘forever virgin’ status tends to scare them off eventually.”
The name hung in the air like an ominous bell. “Erzabet?” Suzi repeated, not sure she’d heard correctly.
Darcy snorted. “Erzabet Bathory. You know her now as Taylor Swift.”
For a stunned moment, Suzi couldn’t even process that. Her mind reeled, pulling at the scraps of knowledge from her high-school history classes. “Bathory…Elizabeth Bathory?” She stared at Darcy, trying to reconcile the sweet pop-star image with the infamous “Blood Countess.” “As in the woman who—she bathed in human blood,” Suzi finally managed, voice tight with disbelief.
Darcy flicked her gaze up, unbothered. “Exactly. Countess Dracula, some called her.” A tight laugh. “Like I said, weird shit. We didn’t last long.”
A slow shudder skittered across Suzi’s shoulders. She briefly pictured the carefully curated persona of Taylor Swift, now overshadowed by centuries-old rumors of blood rituals. “I—God, that’s a lot to take in,” she muttered.
Darcy just shrugged, as though it were all old news. The two carried on, conversation wandering aimlessly through bizarre celestial gossip and personal confessions. They drank more, switching from tequilla to whatever else Suzi’s kitchen had to offer. The tension between them mellowed into a companionable warmth, fueled by alcohol and a shared sense of otherness.
Eventually, they shuffled into Suzi’s bedroom. Ygritte hopped onto the queen-sized bed as if she owned it, and neither of them had the energy—or the inclination—to nudge the dog aside. Suzi managed to crawl in under the covers. Darcy flopped down on the other side, limbs sprawling comfortably.
Suzi’s eyes felt heavy, the room tilting in pleasant, lazy arcs. She heard Darcy mumble something about how “everyone’s got their kinks” before drifting off. Suzi wanted to argue or question more, but her mind slipped under that warm veil of intoxicated sleep. Ygritte settled in between them, radiating canine warmth.
That was the last thing Suzi remembered—a faint smell of tequila, the soft rumble of Darcy’s breathing, and the lingering shock of discovering that one of the world’s biggest pop icons had once been known for bathing in human blood. Then, at some point, she surrendered to the darkness and slept.
* * * * *
Suzi snapped awake, hands tight on a steering wheel. Her heart thundered so loud it almost echoed in the dark cab. Aiden’s truck. Aiden was next to her, but he looked…off. He stared into his lap, shoulders stiff, eyes downcast. Guilt or grief, she couldn’t tell—he just wouldn’t look at her.
Thick fog swallowed the headlights, making it damn near impossible to see past the hood. She couldn’t tell if they were on pavement or dirt. Everything felt warped and dreamlike, but the steering wheel vibrated under her grip—too real to ignore. She tried to speak, tried to ask Aiden what the hell was going on, but no sound left her lips. Nothing. Her mouth moved, words formed in her head, but silence pressed in like a suffocating blanket.
Aiden stayed quiet, gaze pinned to his hands.
Without warning, a huge tree loomed in the headlights. Fuck! Suzi slammed the brakes, skidding to a stop, the front bumper coming within inches of the trunk. Her heart hammered in her throat as the truck shuddered. She glanced at Aiden, voice strangled in a silent scream. He calmly opened the passenger door and stepped out, like he was just stretching his legs.
No, no, no. Suzi tried to yell, tried to reach for him, but again, not a single sound escaped her throat. The driver’s door wouldn’t budge, locked from the inside. Fear flared like lightning through her veins, and she scrambled over the console, pushing into the passenger seat to slip out the door Aiden had just used.
Cold, wet grass prickled her bare feet. She looked down, stomach lurching—she was naked. Humiliation and panic roared up together, tangling in her chest. She turned, frantic, aiming for the back door of the truck where maybe she could grab a blanket. But in the split second she looked away, the pickup was simply…gone. The damp earth under her toes was the only proof she’d even stood there.
She spun again, facing the massive tree that had nearly ended her. Through the fog, she searched for Aiden. Nothing. Her silent shouts tore at her throat, but no sound came out.
Then she heard it: a soft, eerie creaking from above.
Her pulse thudded as she backed up and raised her eyes to the looming branches. Aiden hung there, head tilted unnaturally to the side, a thick hemp rope wrapped around his neck. His body swung with the slow groan of wood and rope.
Terror crashed over her. She tried to scream his name, tried to do anything to save him, but the only thing that came out was a strangled, voiceless cry—a scream no one would ever hear.
* * * * *
A strangled gasp ripped through Suzi’s throat as she jolted upright in bed. Her cheeks were damp with tears, and her pulse thundered in her ears like a war drum. Another goddamn nightmare. She scanned the faint shapes in her darkened bedroom—no Darcy. Just the hush of the early morning. Her mind still reeled from the memory of Aiden swinging from a rope, of her own silent screams.
Then, in a flicker, Darcy stood right in front of her, appearing with that infuriating grin. “I’ve got something for you.”
“You’re too late,” Suzi growled, voice shaky with leftover adrenaline. “You missed your chance. I was just attacked by the Nightmare demon again.”
Darcy’s grin widened. “Yeah. I’ve spent the last hour tracking him. Now I’ve got him pinned in a limbo pocket for you.”
The words lit Suzi’s nerves. She flung off the covers and stood, fists clenched. “What? You caught the bastard?”
Darcy gave a smug nod.
“Take me to him.” Suzi thrust out her hand, jaw set. She wanted payback.
Darcy clasped her hand and shifted them from the bedroom into a hazy limbo. Walls and furniture stretched, warped, doubling into layers of translucent space. Suzi’s apartment flickered at the edges, half present, half not, while Darcy held her hand in that half-formed plane.
Another step, and the apartment fell away, leaving only a mesh of swirling Ether. A thin line like a scar in the air marked a seam between realities. Darcy touched it, her voice echoing: “Are you ready?”
Suzi forced a tight nod. “Yes.”
Darcy pulled back the strange boundary. Beyond it crouched a small child, aura stained in dark browns, trembling on hands and knees. Revulsion spiked in Suzi’s gut—something about the whimper felt off, unnatural. She shot Darcy a hard look, about to demand an explanation, when the child lunged with unnatural speed, sprouting four slick, writhing tentacles. Oily appendages latched around Suzi’s head, shark-like teeth snapping near her face.
She let go of Darcy, staggered back, and shoved with all her strength. The demon reeked of rotted fish, and it took every ounce of power to pry its biting jaws away. Physics warped in this place; when she finally flung the creature off, it froze mid-flight, then vanished, only to reappear at the seam. Darcy was gone.
A hot blade of rage seared through Suzi’s veins. “Just you and me, motherfucker!”
The child form blinked away again. Another swirl in the gloom, and Aiden stood there, heartbreakingly familiar. Her lungs seized.
“Aiden!?” Horror knotted in her throat. She knew it wasn’t real—couldn’t be. Yet there he was, arms wide, wearing the same jeans and Superman tee from Guillermo’s collective.
“Hello, my love.” He stepped closer, voice soft. “You saved me. Now let me save you.”
That voice and the faint smell of his cologne stirred hope she knew was bullshit. Still, her body ached to believe it. When he caught her hands, the warmth of his skin felt so convincingly right.
“I need to tell you something,” he murmured.
“You can tell me anything.” Suzi closed her eyes against his chest, letting herself sink into the echo of his heartbeat. She let the dream swallow her for a breath too long.
“I never loved you,” Aiden said, voice turning harsh.
A cold spike lanced her gut. “What?”
“I was happy you left. The kids were happy too. So much easier without you around.”
Fury spiked in her chest, horror tangling with heartbreak. “WHAT?!” She tried to yank free, but his arms shifted into a mass of tiny wriggling worms, crawling up her forearms.
“You were a terrible mother and wife.” His tone went mechanical, mocking. “And a horrible sexual partner.”
Aiden would never say that. The demon’s shitty impersonation snapped the trance. She realized with sick clarity how deeply it had burrowed into her mind. She struggled, but her arms were fused into the creature’s form, black ooze clinging to her shoulders.
“And your cooking?” The demon spat the words in a cruel imitation of Aiden’s voice. “Tasted like ass.”
Rage burned away her fear. She stared into the demon’s counterfeit eyes. “Now that I have you right where I want you—”
It let out a warped laugh, half Aiden’s voice, half something from the depths of a nightmare. “Scwed ebi lua puogo du ki?” it hissed.
A cold grin turned Suzi’s lips. “I’m going to make you wish you were never fucking born.” She concentrated every shred of will. But his presence pressed back, immeasurably strong, feeding on the hole it had punched in her psyche.
She felt it slithering into her thoughts, stealing control. Panic flared when her own resolve faltered under that crushing wave.
Darcy’s hands braced against Suzi’s back, jolting her with a rush of raw energy. Darcy’s voice rang in her ear, echoing in this half-reality: “I willfully give myself to you, Suzanne Bachman. Use my will as yours!”
A tidal surge of power crashed through Suzi’s mind. The demon’s grip slipped. It shrieked in a thousand voices, losing its hold as the black, slimy tendrils peeled away from her arms. A twisted blob replaced the Aiden guise, dissolving bit by bit. She clamped down around its throat—what passed for a throat—feeling that swirling combined will tighten like a vice.
“Tell me your name, demon,” she demanded, voice a low growl.
A writhing half-face formed in the fluid shape. Its aura flickered and, through violent spasms, it hissed, “Urzobach.”
“Then I remand you, Urzobach, until I bind you.” Suzi pictured the binding she’d used on previous demons, forcing the demon’s essence to seep into her body. The gaslike form spiraled through the air and vanished into her chest in one agonized whirl.
Panting, she spun to Darcy, who sagged on the warped ground. Suzi rushed over, adrenaline still pounding.
“That was fucking amazing!” Her voice shook with relief. She knelt by Darcy’s side.
Darcy offered a hazy smile, eyes half-lidded. Then her lids fluttered closed, and she collapsed as if sleep had dragged her under.
“Darcy?” Suzi gripped her shoulders. Darcy managed a weak thumbs-up before drifting away, leaving Suzi in the twisting echo of limbo, the demon’s presence still coursing in her veins.