"Not who I was expecting," Harmony said, gaze sweeping over her. "Now that you have no magic, you're nothing but a puny doll."
"And you're a dealer who doesn't realize she's already dead-dead."
Harmony tensed but didn't otherwise react. "By now your Gabriel should be almost dead. I doubt he can face down two hundred men on his own."
"My Gabriel is the rightful master of the underworld. He's also the greatest warrior Death has ever known, and right now, he's pissed off," past-Death replied. "If I were you, I'd send up another two hundred before you set foot on the roof."
Harmony stared at her, and past-Death sensed she'd rattled the woman. Snatching her hard, Harmony dragged her forward. "Where is it?" she hissed.
"Where is what?" past-Death demanded, refusing to flinch despite the pain.
"His soul! So I can end this and take my place as Death!"
"You?" past-Death arched an eyebrow. "You are one of the least impressive dealers I ever brought on board. In fact, I'm not sure why I did."
Harmony's backhand sent her reeling.
Past-Death landed on her stomach, her head ringing. The warm, metallic taste of blood was in her mouth and stars in her vision.
"Where the fuck is it?" Harmony demanded again.
Past-Death laughed. "You will never be Death, Harmony. The underworld chose him, not you."
"Search her!"
She lay still as one of them searched her roughly. She didn't have so much as a hair scrunchie in her pockets, and the dealer rose with a shake of his head.
Harmony was glaring at her from across the hallway, arms folded. The scratch marks on her cheek made past-Death wonder if she'd had a run in with a certain demoness. She said nothing and climbed to her feet.
"I've got another plan," Harmony said and gripped her arm too hard once more. She started forward at a quick walk. "One more likely to make you suffer the way you deserve."
Past-Death trotted on tiptoes to keep up with her. Remember. Quick deaths are better. She sought out something to infuriate Harmony even more as they marched through the palace that used to be her home to a central set of stairs leading to the roof.
"You remember the last talk we had?" past-Death asked with what innocence she was able to muster. "The one where my twin and I swore that your soul would go where mine is?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"Mine belongs to Hell."
Harmony missed a step. "You swore!"
"Darkyn's mate swore. I supplied the location," she said, referring to the deal Deidre made with Harmony before the death dealer kidnapped them.