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“At least he’s not insufferable like you.”

Malakai glared. “Oh, quit sucking his cock already and admit that he’s not the saint you pretend he is!”

“I never said he was a saint—I said he wasn’t insufferable.”

Malakai rolled his eyes and tipped his head back, glaring at the pitch-black sky. “Devlin. Go back.” He pointed in the general direction of the boat. “I’ll be there in a bit. Soon as I get my fix.”

“I’m not letting you do this.” He stalked forward.

Malakai pushed him in the chest so hard, he fell, dust billowing around him.

“Leave me alone,” Malakai seethed. Before Travis could stand up, he slapped his palm against the door—right above the symbol of a wolf skull with crossbones and three downward-pointing arrows.

The coin vanished beneath his hand. A breeze that tasted of blood and candle smoke blew his hair back as the dimensions warped, the magic of the otherworld granting him entry.

The doorknob twisted on its own, a buzzer sounded, and the door creaked open.

Travis got to his feet. “You’re a fucking idiot!” he spat as Malakai pushed open the door, revealing a stairwell that dove deep into the earth. “The dimensions are blending, the waterfalls are becoming portals, and you actually want to goBelow.”

Inside, the lights buzzed on, one by one, flickering all the way down to the bottom.

“For Venom,” Travis pressed. “Right? You want to take the same drug that might be causing people to go crazy? I never thought you could get any more stupid, Delaney, but you keep one-upping yourself.”

“Like I said,” Malakai drawled, reining in his temper. Soon, he’d be high. Soon, he’d get a break from all thesethoughtsand all theseworries, and everything that irritated him would shut the hell up for a bit. “You’re welcome to go back,” he concluded.

He stepped through the doorway and began his trek down, boots pounding on the stairs.

Darkslayers were usedto dealing with creepy places and things. They were used to running head-first into danger and getting so close to death that you could practically taste it. As a Darkslayer himself, there really wasn’t a lot that unsettled Travis.

Being Below, though? He couldn’t lie; it unsettled him.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked as he paced the room, the air heady with hot tar. The stench made his eyes water and his throat burn.

“As long as I need,” Alfie replied, his tone so low and grumbly, the words were barely decipherable. The warlock stood with his back facing them as he worked over the assortment of glassware spread across the long table by the wall. Neon potions and chemicals bubbled, hissed, and spat.

When they’d made it down the stairs and turned the corner into a dank hallway lined on either side with closed doors, they had barely taken one step before Alfie tracked them down.He was definitely high on Venom—the drug he was currently cooking up for a very stupid, potentially suicidal Reaper.

“At ease, Devlin,” Malakai drawled. “You can’t rush perfection.”

Travis kept pacing. “Yeah, well, you can’t fix stupid, either,” he muttered.

They had already been down here for over an hour. The others would be wondering where they were.

A piercing scream filled the air. Metal rattled in the distance.

He paused his pacing. “What the hell was that?” he murmured.

“Oh, don’t mind her,” Alfie mumbled, completely unbothered as he mixed and poured. “It’s just the Harpy.”

“Harpy?” Travis echoed. “You got a Harpy down here?” Harpies were monsters with an avian body and the head of a hideous human woman. Their screams, if heard up close, could be fatal.

They were also very difficult to kill. Even for the most seasoned slayers.

Alfie said, “I’m going to need to see payment before I finish.”

“Oh—uhh…” Malakai patted his pockets.

Travis snort-laughed. This was going to be good.