Body number two lay sprawled in the stairwell, neck broken. I stepped over the corpse and jogged up the stairs, following the splatters of blood toward the roof. The demon would eventually kill the third kid too; they always killed their summoners—the people who potentially had power over them.

Shoving through a door, the stairwell spat me out into a biting winter wind. Snow swirled and patted against my face, softening the sounds of New York’s usual din of traffic.

Alysdair in hand, hieroglyphs glowing pale green along her blade, I stepped into a few inches of snow cover and bounced my gaze around the rooftop’s clutter. Storage boxes, an elevator motor enclosure, some other jagged shapes silhouetted against the glistening skyline, but no obvious demons. Beyond the roof, a high-rise loomed, its windows aglow. With the gunshot and the bodies, someone would call the cops and soon. I had to get this done fast, before the demon sprouted wings.

“I’ve reconsidered,” I called out, following the trail of blood. My boots crunched in the snow, so there was no use in trying to move quietly. “You and me, I can make that work.”

The grinding laughter returned, but the wind gathered it up and tossed it around the rooftop. “You are weak…”

“Says the demon with a hole in its gut,” I muttered. “You’re going to die here, you must know that.”

The demon could shift its shape and escape. Given enough time, it could hole up somewhere and lick its wounds. I couldn’t let that happen. A demon loose in a city like New York would be a public relations nightmare. Naturally, it would be my fault. Most screwups were, if you asked the gods.

“You are not free to make a deal, Nameless One.”

“How’s that?” I inched up against the elevator enclosure and eyed the trail of blood leading out of sight around the corner.

“Your soul is owned by another.” The words tumbled through the air, but their source was close. “I tasted him on you.”

I winced. That truth cut too close to the bone for comfort. If word got out I was Ozzy’s bitch, nobody would hire me. Shit, nobody would come within ten feet of me. If the demon didn’t have to die before, it did now.

Enough talk. Talking with demons—and listening to them—was a surefire way of getting your mind devoured. This one had spent long enough probing my thoughts to pick up on my fears. They were good at that—planting seeds that would later grow into toxic doubts until you fancied yourself a long walk off a short balcony. I hadn’t dealt with a demon of this caliber in a while; clearly, I was rusty.

“Slippery things, souls.” I lifted Alysdair and wrapped both hands around her handle, letting the sword pull on my magical reserves. “They’re surprisingly easy to lose and damned difficult to get back.”

I lunged around the corner and got a face full of contorted demon chest. Alysdair plunged through cleanly, slicing deeper than the metal alone would have allowed for, and sank into that fetid thing inside—its soul. A flicker snagged at my resolve—a twitch from my past, of how good it would be to drink its soul down. It had been a long time, but this was Alysdair’s moment to shine, not mine. A soul that black, I didn’t need the weight.

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The demon let out its ear-piercing screech. Its claws raked at my sword arm to cut off the source of its agony, but its red-eyed glow was fading as Alysdair fed. The sword sang in my grip until the deed was done, and the demon collapsed into a pile of loose skin and putrid flesh.

The after buzz tapped at the part of my mind that went to deeper, darker things every time Alysdair got her kick and I didn’t—the what-ifs and just-a-little-bits. With a growl, I staggered back, grateful the snow was swirling faster now and covering up the grisly evidence.

“Poison” blared again from my pocket.

“For Sekhmet’s sake!” I wiped Alysdair clean on my duster coat and drove her home inside her sheathe, snug between my shoulder blades. Then I snatched the cell from my pocket. “Shu, by the gods, this had better be good or I will come back there and shove your little statue of Ra up your—”

“Ace.”

Gods be damned, I’d worked with Shukra long enough to recognize that arctic tone in her voice. “That’s my name, peaches. Don’t wear it out.”

Sirens wailed nearby—too nearby. I strode to the edge of the roof and didn’t need to look far to see the blue and white lights bathing the walls of the opposite building. It was too late to clean up the mess.

“There’s a goddess in your office. I suggest you don’t make her wait.”

The line went dead.

A goddess in my office? That didn’t narrow it down. There were more goddesses topside than you could shake a crook and flail at. Time to make a quick exit and leave the cops with more questions than they had any hope of answering. I tucked my cell away. I broke into a jog, the rooftop’s edge approaching fast. I picked up speed, wondered too late if the gap between the buildings might be wider than I’d guesstimated, and leaped into the dark.

* * *

Ignoring gods didn’t make them go away. I’d tried. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t eek out some pleasure by making the bitch wait. I was on my way to my office, but I just happened to drop by Toni’s bar and order a few shots first. Antonio was more than eager to oblige, and I figured I owed it to Toni to prop the bar up like I did most nights after a job, especially when the job flirted with the kind of illicit desires that had gotten me thrown out of the underworld— or Duat, to give the place it’s proper name.

Toni drifted over, saluting me with the bottle of whatever he’d been serving me—something syrupy and potent. I placed my hand over the glass and shook my head. The idea was to arrive late, not drunk, although the thought of seeing the look on Shu’s face did appeal to me. She wasn’t immune to angry gods quite like I was. A minor god had once gotten the wrong idea about Shu and me and figured he could get to me by hurting her. I didn’t answer the ransom, and as soon as Shu got free, she ripped his insides out via his throat. Happy days.

“Ace, right?” a sweet voice asked, wrenching me out of my thoughts. “Hi, I’m Rosie. I work right across the street.”

I looked at her and then at Antonio, who shrugged and left to tend to the rest of his flock, and finally at the door like I might be able to see the place she’d mentioned through it. “The accountants?”

“Yeah.” She beamed, tucked her short blond hair behind her ear and leaned against the bar. “I…er… I’ve seen you around a few times, and…”

She was talking, and I probably should have been listening, but my mind was still going over that tick, that little hook that had dug itself in right when the demon had died, that little voice that said the demon’s soul should have been mine. That voice was almost as old as I was. I thought I’d kicked it to the curb long ago.

Rosie’s smooth hand touched my arm, startling me back into the bar. She smiled like she was waiting for me to say something. I had no idea what. She was looking for company, but if she knew what I was she’d run, screaming.

I tossed a few dollars on the bar and slipped off my stool. “I gotta get to work.”

Sinking my hands into my jacket pockets, my fingers brushed a familiar gold band. I slipped the ring over my ring finger, pushed through the door, and ducked my head against the flurries of snow.

I’d made the goddess wait long enough.