"I don't want a lecture," he said firmly. "Tell me if there is something there I need to be concerned about."

"Lecture," she muttered, eyes flashing. "Clearly you found the compass. As long as you took the soul with it, there's nothing they can do."

Fuck. Gabriel thought back to the three items he'd discovered in her jewelry box: the compass, a soul and the tarnished ring he gave her hundreds of years ago. He took the soul compass only.

"And if I didn't?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't you? It was your soul."

"My soul?"

"You can't rule the underworld if you have a soul. It's a conflict of interest," she said with some exasperation.

"What the fuck kind of sense does that make?" he demanded.

"I don't remember why. I only have twenty-six years' worth of memories, thanks to Darkyn." She frowned fiercely. "But I didn't make that rule up. How do you think I had my soul to plant in human-Deidre's head when she was born? When you become Death, your soul is rendered unnecessary. You were supposed to place it in with the souls of the other deities."

"Which was …"

"In the closet in the corner of my bedchamber, the one I told you to go through."

"You did not tell me to go through it!" Gabriel rose, furious once more, and began to pace. One minute, he was admiring the light of anger in her eyes. The next, he wanted to kill her.

Like old times.

"Of course I did. I told you, if you wanted to be exactly like me, to walk through that door," she said. "Isn't that clear enough? Please tell me you got your soul and put it there."

He glared at her.

"You didn't, did you?" she stared at him in a cross between dismay and amazement. "And you wonder why everything is in shambles."

"Don't go there," he warned.

"Do you have your soul at least?"

"No."

"Then you have to fix that, Gabriel," she said and rose, concerned. "How could you ever think you'd rule the underworld, if you didn't take it seriously? Yes, there is a way to kick you out of your position. It involves them taking your soul and sending it to Hell." She neared him as she spoke, pausing close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. Her hands were on her hips.

"If you'd left me instructions or told me what to do, I would've done it," he said through clenched teeth.

"Did you ask?"

"You left me," he hissed. "If you'd given me a fucking day or two advance notice, I might've had a chance to ask."




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