Deidre glanced at the demon. He was listening too closely. "Umm should you say that in front of him?"

"It has a protective spell on it. Only a deity or his mate can see the box," Past-Death explained.

"Sweet, succulent human cupcake," Jared purred. His gaze was on past-Death, the light in his eyes inhuman.

"Wait a minute!" Deidre exclaimed, hopping to her feet. "I know you, don't I?"

Jared shrugged.

"You were in my apartment. With the demon pretending to be my ex …" she trailed off, recalling the night that changed her life. She'd been nearly eaten alive that night, only to be saved by Gabriel when she tried to jump off the building and landed in the Caribbean Sanctuary belonging to the Immortals. "That was one of the worst nights of my life." She blinked away tears. Even if she'd begun to tentatively accept her place in the mess past-Death created, she still hurt when she recalled how rocky her journey had been.

What was worse: where that journey ended. In a dungeon.

"Just doing my job," Jared said. "C'mere, cupcake. I'll make everything all right."

Past-Death rolled her eyes. "Can this get any worse? Stuck in a cell with a hungry demon."

"At least he's chained up," Deidre said, recovering. "They don't want us dead, or he wouldn't be."

"There are worse fates than death."

"No shit. I think I've seen that first hand!"

To her surprise, past-Death laughed.

The sound of the lock's bolt being drawn back made her scramble away from the door and join past-Death in the back of the cell. Deidre took her hand uncertainly, fearful of what was going to come through the door.

It swung open to reveal five forms, all of them she assessed to be death dealers.

"You. Come with me." The one in front ordered, pointing at her.

Deidre's breath caught. She glanced at past-Death and was more unsettled to see the fearful expression on the face of the woman who used to rule over the death dealers. Her heart pounding, she stepped forward to obey. The long, Grecian style dress she wore in Hell swished silently around her legs. It was held in place by a collar, the black material light as air and softer than silk. It brushed the tops of her feet.

She crossed her arms as she moved, glancing at the two in the cell behind her as she reached the door. Past-Death appeared scared, and the demon was frowning fiercely.

Both seemed to be aware of some danger Deidre couldn't even imagine. She was too new to the world of Immortals and deities to know what to expect or even why they wanted her, if not to manipulate Darkyn.




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