Keeping well out of the steam-powered floodlight’s phosphorescent glow, he made his way to the outskirts of sector nine. Avoiding the heavily armed checkpoint, he waited for the passing patrol to move farther down the lane before scaling the perimeter wall and dropping to the other side. His avenue of entry might have been an inconvenient ball breaker, but it was more prudent than going through security and being under their radar.
The shadowed warrens providing some obscurity from the ever-vigilant cameras and guards, he skulked along the rows of resident housing. Thank the devil no direct camera surveillance was trained on the entrances in this section. The high-ranking level of the sequestered souls in sector nine guaranteed them luxuries most of the other residents of the Death Wards were unable to obtain—privacy being foremost.
He located Aster Batticus’s address on one of the signposts and strode toward the surprisingly modest cottage situated at the end of the lane. Apparently Aster wasn’t one of those pretentious assholes who liked to live the highlife in his afterlife. Sam eyed the exterior, debating which point of entry would be the easiest to break into.
Before he settled on a choice, the front door swung open and a stooped figure hobbled onto the porch. Wizened, ancient eyes peered at Sam. “You planning to stand there all damn day or come inside?”
Before Sam could untie his tongue, the warlock rapped his long staff on the porch floor. “I’m dead and could probably still move faster than you.” Aster suddenly vanished from the porch and reappeared directly in front of Sam. “Makes me wonder how you managed to make it past security with that slow brain of yours.”
Sam had been insulted by plenty of souls in his life, but he’d never met one quite as cantankerous as Aster. Time to put the ornery son of a bitch in his place. “Listen, old man, you’re coming with me if you like it or not. Whether I make the trip pleasant for you depends on precisely how much you piss me off. I advise you to keep it to a minimum.”
Aster cocked his head to the side as he apparently mulled Sam’s threat. Finally he shrugged. “What the hell? Not like I’ve got anything better to do. Especially since the only thing on the telly these days is reruns of Days of Our Death. Don’t know why I even popped for cable. Damn waste of money.” He glared at Sam like he was somehow personally responsible for the Death Wards lousy choice in television programming. “All right, let’s do this.”
“We’re going to have to hoof it. My gun’s locked in security.”
“Walk? You’ve got to be shitting me. Do you have any idea how that’s going to affect my gout?” Aster snorted. “Security. What kind of damn soul collector are you anyway? A crappy one, that’s what. In my day, I probably coulda busted out a thousand souls at one time, minimum. Blindfolded, with my hands tied behind my back while walking uphill in a blizzard. Without any shoes on. Because we didn’t even have shoes back in those days.”
Sam’s head began to throb. This was going to be the longest fucking walk of his life.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Her wrists chafing from the ropes binding them, Marabella gathered every ounce of her strength to lift her head and peer around at her surroundings. A stark white wall sat opposite her chair. She gasped when she noticed Cass’s slumped figure tied onto a chair identical to hers.
“Don’t worry, she’s not dead. But apparently she has a lower tolerance for chloral hydrate than you do.”
Marabella jerked her gaze in the direction of the snide female voice. The dark-haired woman from earlier sat perched on the edge of a desk, her legs crossed in a businesslike pose. Pricilla, she presumed.
“Did you enjoy your nap?”
Marabella ignored the question. “Let me go.”
“I’m afraid not. You’re entirely too valuable. Not to mention the key to my plan.” Pricilla uncrossed her legs and stood. She waved to the pile of syringes resting on the desk.
Marabella stared at the needles and swallowed the lump of dread forming in her throat. “What are you planning to do? Drug me again?”
“No. There’s nothing in these vials. Yet. But soon they’ll be filled with your blood. Exactly enough of it for each member of the council I plan to weaken and ultimately destroy.” Pricilla picked up the largest of the syringes and stroked its barrel lovingly. “But this one is reserved special for Marcus. An extra helping of your blood…not even an immortal demon will be able to fight off its corruptive powers.”
“W-why would you think my blood will corrupt him? Or any of them?”
“A demon’s seal is impenetrable, yet you somehow managed to break Samael’s. I saw the evidence of that with my own eyes. Now I intend to use it to my advantage.”
Self-preservation once again broke through her panic. “But…Sam’s seal wasn’t broken through my blood.”
“I know. You fucked him. You human whores—always so eager to spread your legs for a big cock.” Cold disdain flashed in Pricilla’s black eyes. “Obviously I can’t have you fuck Marcus and every member of the council, so your blood will just have to do.”
“It won’t work.”
Pricilla stepped forward and wrenched Marabella’s chin up. “You better pray it does. It’s my rightful destiny to kill Marcus and his precious council. If you screw that up for me, the pain you’ll suffer will make you beg me for death.”
Fear threatened to overtake Marabella, but she beat it back. “Sam will never let you get away with this. H-he’ll come for me.”
Pricilla’s icy laugh lashed across Marabella’s face. “You foolish girl. Do you think he gives a damn about you? He’d save his own ass before protecting yours. And since I ensured he’d be kept busy keeping that ass of his from being shot at in the Death Wards, he won’t be going anywhere soon, believe me.”
She gaped at Pricilla. “H-how…?”
Smugness danced across Pricilla’s cold, perfect features. “You think I didn’t know your plans to ship him to the Death Wards? Who do you think planted the seed of that particular idea into your tiny brains in the first place?”
Her mind raced to Cass and Sam’s conversation regarding Pricilla’s attempts to broker a deal with the reapers. “You really had no intention of hiring a reaper to go after Aster, did you? It was a decoy.”
“I have no need of Aster now. Acquiring your blood is far easier and less time-consuming than convincing Aster to break Marcus’s immortality spell.” The cunningness in Pricilla’s smile amped up several notches. “It’s a simple matter, getting people to do exactly what you want. Particularly when those in question are so predictable. I knew if I made enough of a show of sniffing around, Samael and his cousins would find a way to rebrand him so they could defeat me.” She gave a scornful snort. “Like that’s remotely possible. But here’s where the brilliance of my plan really comes in—to rebrand him, they needed a witch. Presumably you. In essence, I killed two birds with one stone. I set into motion Samael being apprehended on the Death Wards, and his cousin led me straight to you.”
Pricilla clucked her tongue when Marabella remained silent. “Fortunately, there aren’t that many occult shops in the state of Georgia. Otherwise my stash of spies would have been spread rather thin.”
So that was how Pricilla was able to find her. Someone must have followed Nikki when she’d left Charmed Moon yesterday.
Pricilla’s fingers dug deeper into Marabella’s skin. “You’re going to save me a lot of extra work in the end. It almost makes up for being deprived the pleasure of torturing and killing Samael firsthand.”
A spike of fear and anger speared through Marabella. Her already low regard for Pricilla plummeted by several notches. In the eyes of most, any demon was inherently evil and despicable, but thanks to Sam, she knew that wasn’t always the case. There were probably plenty more like him in the demon realm who still retained some degree of conscience that made them redeemable. Pricilla wasn’t one of them. If she did manage to kill Marcus and the council, no doubt her reign would be a vicious plague upon the earth. Marabella intended to do everything in her power to keep that from happening. But she couldn’t do it on her own. Superpowers or not, she needed reinforcements.