Suzi’s cheeks burned with equal parts embarrassment and relief the moment the demon binding was done. She held the black leather hood in her hands, feeling Urzobach thrash inside with a futile, angry will. It was already weakening under the press of her and Darcy’s combined power.

“That was awkward,” Darcy said, a smirk tugging one corner of her mouth.

Suzi’s pulse was still thudding in her ears. “I’ve never done it in front of another celestial,” she admitted softly, eyes flicking away.

“Performance anxiety, huh?” Darcy’s suggestive wink made Suzi’s cheeks flare hotter. “Heard of it. Never personally dealt with it.”

Suzi let out a shaky laugh, gaze dropping to the hood. She felt each ripple of the demon’s struggle through the leather—a faint vibration under her fingertips. “What do we do with this now?”

Darcy shrugged. “We don’t do anything. It’s yours. You keep it. Demons and angels can both have nightmares, you know. This is your first trophy.”

Suzi blinked. “But I already have Miraleth’s Pellet—”

“That’s an artifact. This?” Darcy tapped the hood with a short, approving nod. “You created it, bound the demon yourself. That’s different. This is truly yours.”

The thought of leaving behind some bizarre legacy—a bondage hood that induced nightmares—made Suzi’s stomach twist. She caught herself staring at it, mind wandering.

“Hey, you okay, meuf?” Darcy asked, voice edging with concern.

“Yeah.” Suzi sighed, shoving thoughts of future ramifications aside. “I just need to get ready for work. And see Aiden.” She tossed the hood onto the bed, not wanting to stare at it any longer, and headed to the bathroom.

Darcy’s voice carried over the sound of running water when Suzi turned on the sink. “You should keep it wherever you’re hiding that magic ball. Or I can help set up something secure at the office, if you’re serious about building a collection.”

A grin tugged at Suzi’s mouth as she stuck her head around the corner, toothbrush halfway to her lips. “A bedside drawer, maybe?”

“Oh, like you don’t have personal toys stashed in there already?” Darcy teased.

Suzi rolled her eyes, finishing brushing in silence. She spat, rinsed, then called back, “No. Not really.”

Darcy’s retort came almost instantly. “Then what the fuck are all these medals?”

Peering back into the bedroom, Suzi realized Darcy had her side-table drawer open, rummaging through the old war medals. “Those were left to me by a friend,” she muttered, turning away to finish smoothing on foundation.

Minutes passed while she tackled her morning routine. A startled yelp erupted from Darcy—”Oh shit!”—pulling Suzi away from the mirror. She peeked out to find Darcy wide-eyed, holding a letter in her hand.

“Hey! That’s private,” Suzi barked.

Darcy shook the pages. “We’re on the same side, right? No secrets between besties?” Her voice turned serious. “He left you everything, and he wasn’t even who he said he was? Says here he crossed paths with ‘The Harvester’ and lived.”

Suzi, mascara wand in hand, felt a tremor of unease. “Who the hell is ‘The Harvester?’”

Darcy looked incredulous. “Joseph Smith ring a bell? Jim Jones? David Koresh? Bonnie Nettles? Hyun Jin Moon? They all follow one man. A man known only as The Harvester.”

Suzi flipped through her mental files. “So, religious fanatics for a thousand, Alex?”

“You’re not wrong,” Darcy said, dark eyes skimming the letter again. “The Harvester influences them. Each convert these movements gather surrenders their will to him. Doctor Everett’s been trying to track this guy for ages.”

Suzi felt a jolt in her chest. “He’s a celestial?”

Darcy nodded grimly. “He’s collecting massive amounts of will. Imagine having a million or more humans basically powering you up. Or tens of millions.”

The sheer magnitude of that hammered Suzi’s mind. She swallowed. “But we’re celestials… We have stronger wills than normal people, right?”

“Sure, but that’s still nothing compared to millions. God’s power comes from believers, from faith. Celestials tap into the faith directed at them too. The Harvester is playing that game.”

Suzi’s eyes drifted to the letter in Darcy’s hand—John McGillicuddy’s letter. Or Robert Edwards. Or whoever he truly was. The swirl of betrayal and sadness cut deep. “So, if he was working for this Harvester, John’s soul—”

“Signed away, most likely,” Darcy confirmed. “Once he died, the Harvester claims it.”

Suzi’s heart squeezed at the memory of John’s war stories—whether they were even true. Or maybe some parts of them were.

“We need to find his cabin,” Darcy said. “He mentioned taking something from them. Could be important.” Darcy set the letter aside with a decisive gesture. “By the way, you need to relinquish my will now. This is…weird.”

“Right.” Suzi took a breath, “Darcy, I relinquish your will.” She barely got the words out before an unmistakable wave of weakness rippled through her muscles. Her knees buckled, but Darcy lunged forward, catching her around the waist.

“It’ll pass,” Darcy assured, holding her steady.

“Holy shit,” Suzi mumbled, blinking through a dizzy haze. Her gaze darted to the bondage hood, half expecting Urzobach to burst free at her sudden loss of power.

Darcy followed her line of sight. “Don’t worry, that demon’s bound by both of us. So long as we both exist, the binding holds.”

Relief loosened Suzi’s body, and the tiredness receded, leaving a faint echo of weakness. She exhaled, finished her makeup, and threw on clothes for the day. “I’ve got to get to the hospital soon,” she said, rummaging for comfortable shoes.

Darcy slipped on her jacket. “You want a lift?”

A tug of gratitude warmed Suzi. “Yeah, thanks.”

Darcy offered her arm with a mock bow. “Bien sûr, ma doux amour.”

In a breath, Suzi hooked her arm through Darcy’s, and reality twisted. That strange sense of stepping through multiple planes happened in less than a blink. They reappeared in the women’s bathroom of the ICU floor at the hospital. But this time, Suzi caught a fleeting glimpse—like a film reel paused midframe. She saw the limbo, and the Ether, and everything in between, as if she were controlling the movement rather than Darcy alone.

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“Sacré Dieu,” Darcy muttered, clutching her stomach. She wobbled, eyes narrowed at Suzi.

“You all right?” Suzi asked, worry tingling up her spine.

“What did you do?” Darcy’s voice came out strangled, her face pale.

“I didn’t do anything,” Suzi said, her own heart beating an anxious rhythm.

Darcy drew a sharp breath, seeming to steady herself. “That skip felt like you were dragging me along. It was…exhausting.”

“It seemed normal to me—same speed as always.”

“No,” Darcy insisted, voice tight. “Something was different. That skip did something weird.”

A nurse appeared, bleary-eyed, probably from the night shift. “Can I help you ladies?”

Suzi forced a calm expression. “We’re here to visit my husband. Aiden McCord.”

“Visiting hours don’t start for two more hours, ma’am.” The nurse’s voice was politely firm. “I’ll have to ask you to wait in the lobby.”

Two hours? Suzi’s stomach dropped. She’d been aiming to get there right at 7 a.m. She checked her phone. 4:56 a.m. Her hand tightened around the device. “What the…?”

Darcy’s eyes went wide. “C'est impossible,” she whispered, face paling more. She braced one hand on the wall, another over her stomach, pacing in a tight circle.

Suzi pressed her back against the tiled wall, phone still clutched in her hand. “How did we go back two hours?”

Darcy’s head snapped up. “You. You did this before, remember? You showed up in my room before I dropped you in a pocket. Somehow, you’re skipping backward in time.”

Suzi felt her pulse ricochet in her throat. “But every time we’ve done a limbo skip, this never happened. And that time was only a minute or two, not hours. Does that mean we’re both here and also at my apartment still?”

Darcy looked rattled. “I don’t know. And I’m too fucking weak to skip again right now.”

Suzi studied Darcy’s face, noticing the sheen of sweat on her brow.

“What?” Darcy looked guarded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Suzi latched onto Darcy’s arm, heart kicking into high gear as she channeled raw intent. In one swift step, the hospital corridor morphed into a repeating, distorted vision—like overlapping photographs spliced together. Walls multiplied and blurred, merging with the Ether around them.

“Merde!” Darcy’s voice tore through the shifting backdrop.

Suzi glanced down at her own hands, the golden aura sparking across her skin. “I can skip us. I have to touch you, but I can use your ability.”

Darcy’s eyes flared with a moment of outrage. “Fille stupide! You could’ve just given me your will, like I did with you.”

Instead of arguing, Suzi gripped Darcy’s arm again, thinking of her apartment. The Ether-Limbo blend rippled, and she caught a glimmer of something in the corner of her vision—two forms asleep on her bed, glowing in faint gold. Herself and Darcy, from hours before, lost in slumber.

They stepped through—and stared at the sleeping pair, wide-eyed.

Suzi’s pulse quickened. Everything about this was unnatural.

“Now what?” Darcy’s breath hitched.

“Fuck if I know,” Suzi muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

Ygritte stirred at the foot of the bed, body stiffening as she noticed the two strangers standing between the bed and the bathroom. The dog’s ears flicked back and forth, confused eyes shifting from the new arrivals to the sleeping women. A tense second passed—then the drowsing Suzi in bed began to twitch.

“We need to bail,” Darcy hissed under her breath. “She’s about to bark, and that’s what wakes me up.”

Suzi nodded, fingers flexing around Darcy’s arm. With an inward push of will, she stepped again, yanking them into a Thin Limbo the exact moment Ygritte let out a sharp bark.

They drifted in that hazy pocket, half Ether, half Reality. Darcy turned to Suzi, eyes glittering. “We’ve got an opportunity here. We know another demon is near. You wake up, I realize you’re under attack, I chase him, he targets me, I lose focus. Now we know exactly when and where it happens. We can ambush him.”

Excitement flickered in Suzi’s chest. “Okay, but are you still too weak to skip?”

Darcy looked momentarily grim. “I can’t take both of us, not yet. But if you lend me your will—”

“I give my will to you, Jehanne Tarc, to use as your own,” Suzi cut in, the words leaving her in a rush. A wave of heat rolled through her, that heady feeling of merging wills all over again.

Darcy’s initial surprise morphed into a trembling smile. Her eyes closed, and Suzi swore she could see a golden current sluice over Darcy’s skin. “Beautiful,” Darcy murmured. The single word sounded drenched in relief and pleasure, like someone stepping out of a cramped cell into fresh air. When she opened her eyes, they practically glowed.

“Damn, that feels good. You have a mighty will,” she remarked, flexing her fingers as though testing newly forged strength.

Suzi tried not to blush. “Thanks.”

Darcy didn’t linger on pleasantries. She grabbed Suzi’s hand. “Now let’s go get this fucker.” She stepped them both sideways, deeper into the Ether but maintaining that hazy limbo state.

They waited. And waited. Time felt distorted here—Suzi’s heartbeat the only measure of passign time. Just when impatience began scraping at her nerves, a small demon materialized so close that, in a purely Ethereal sense, it would’ve occupied the same physical space as them.

It had an aura of deep purple, almost black at the edges, and vile yellow skin—though the blend with its aura made it look an off-brown color. Its jaw jutted forward, sporting four thick tusks arching up past its eyes to a pair of backward-curving horns on its skull. Quill-like hairs bristled along its neck and back. Those jaundiced eyes sat on either side of the tusks, making the demon’s face look bizarrely cramped.

It paused, then extended a clawed hand. A sickly yellow pulse radiated out. Suzi recognized it as some kind of attack targeting the Ether. It struck another version of Darcy the moment she blinked into existence—Darcy’s past self, clearly in the throes of battle. Suzi’s current Darcy stiffened, lips peeling back in frustration.

“Tellement stupide!” Darcy snarled at herself under her breath. She tore at the edge of the pocket dimension, ripping it wide. Together, she and Suzi lunged forward, yanking the demon in with them.

Its jaundiced eyes flared in panic. The heavy tusks framed those eyes, never dipping below them. The demon flailed, tried to bite, but couldn’t reach Suzi’s arm with the tusks in the way.

“Agkeg Nemorith!” it screeched. Twisting, it swung a tiny fist, but the angle was all wrong.

Suzi clamped a hand over its horn, forcing its face upward. She locked eyes, pouring her will into that fierce stare. But beneath her mental push, she felt…nothing. He was like a puppet going through motions, no real consciousness for her to grab hold of.

He belched in her face, a foul stench. “Thua jeggud kimied Nemorith,” he snarled, voice muffled around his own tusks.

She looked to Darcy. “Does he have a fucking lisp? And he’s right—I can’t overpower him. There’s no mind there to subjugate.”

Darcy wrested the demon’s arm behind its back. “Who do you work for, Nemorith?” she demanded in a guttural demonic tongue.

“NemoriTH!” he spat, glaring, tusks wobbling.

“That’s what I said—Nemorith. Who’s your master?”

“NemorITH! I’d bithe my thongue outh before I thell you bithcheth anything.”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. She glanced at Suzi, and an abrupt snort of laughter escaped them both.

“Fine, NemorIS,” Darcy mocked. “You don’t want to talk? Great. We’ll leave you here, in this pocket, stuck between planes for eternity.”

A last burst of panicked strength rippled through the demon.

“Okay. Bye,” Suzi said with a smirk.

They hurled him backward. Darcy grabbed Suzi’s hand again and stepped them out. A flicker later, they stood in the murky depths of the Ether, free of that limbo pocket.

“How long are we leaving him there?” Suzi asked, chest still pumping adrenaline.

Darcy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Leaving him? Forever. You heard him—he’s pledged his will to someone else. Breaking that bond isn’t child’s play. Unless he or his master can skip, he’s stuck. End of story.”

“That’s…” Suzi sucked in a breath. “That’s horrible.”

“He’s a demon,” Darcy said bluntly. “They’re vile, irredeemable. Don’t talk to me about mercy. Especially not you, Ms. ‘Demon Reaper.’ Or do you think only demons that attack your husband qualify for that level of torment?”

Suzi’s face reddened. “I never called myself ‘Demon Reaper.’ Everyone else did. I wish they wouldn’t. But yeah, maybe you’re right. Some part of me wants to think people deserve a second chance.”

“Humans, maybe,” Darcy said, shrugging. “Demons, no.” She paused as if waiting for an argument, but Suzi only swallowed. “Let’s get back.”

Darcy slipped them out of the Ether entirely. In a blink, they stood in the hallway outside Darcy’s bedroom, the real hallway. “I’m done for now,” Darcy declared. “I need a couple hours’ sleep. You go see Aiden, then get to work.”

Suzi turned, a wave of gratitude washing over her. “Thanks, Darcy. For everything.”

Darcy’s tone softened. “Bien sûr, ma amour.” She pivoted to her door.

Suzi started down the hall, ready to leave, but Darcy called after her, “Oh, by the way—I relinquish your will. See you later.”

A subtle shift rippled through Suzi’s body—no grand rush of power, just an absence where Darcy’s presence had been. That new emptiness in her chest stung, but she suppressed it. Aiden waited. Touching him, seeing him in person, after all this time, would be enough to keep her going. She pressed on, mind whirling with the last hour’s chaos, praying Aiden’s presence would ground her again.