Her life as a human may have been wasted, but she could still do whatever was possible to help those she'd wronged. It meant putting aside her agony and despair to save the woman she'd condemned to Hell a week before and expecting the world to continue to hate her, no matter what good she tried to do now. It was too late for her. It wasn't too late for Deidre.
Past-Death drew a shaky breath. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and she focused on calming her mind enough to put herself into the strange sleep, the only way to reach Deidre.
It didn't matter what happened once they escaped. She had nothing to look forward to, and her soul officially belonged in Hell.
I'm not meant to live through this ordeal. The stark realization made her sick to her stomach. Deidre deserved better. Gabriel deserved better. Past-Death caused chaos and hurt everywhere she went.
The cool stone felt good against her hot head, and she focused on falling again into the vivid sleep. It was getting easier to enter it, and she gripped the keys tightly as the sense of floating into darkness returned.
When she was able to register where she was, she stood facing the doors of one of the two cells she knew should never be opened.
This time, she had no choice. She had to save Deidre.
Past-Death shook the thoughts free. She turned to face one door, safe in her dream-like state from whatever was inside. If the death dealers weren't able to see her when she stood in front of them, she was able to take a peek at what horrible monster she'd imprisoned before surrendering her position as a deity. She could free Deidre and then run back to her own cell and open it.
Not like I have anything to lose at this point. Her heart fluttered fast. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open only far enough to peer into the cell.
It appeared to be empty.
Surprised, Past-Death pushed it open a little farther until she was able to see three of the corners.
Nothing.
She entered the cell and looked around critically. There was no sign of Deidre or anyone else. A thick, undisturbed layer of dust coated the floor.
"It's the wrong fucking key." Past-Death's panic stirred. She'd grabbed one key but not the other, which meant Deidre was in the other cell.
Why would she have secured a cell with no prisoner? Especially one of those at this end of the hallway? Or had the death dealers freed the occupant?
"I know someone was here," she muttered.