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“Go on.”

“Let people know you have your eye on them. Miss a few pickups. You know. Death stuff. Throw the universe off a little. You don’t like the job. Maybe you’ll get fired.”

“I do enjoy a bit of chaos,” he says quietly.

Death reaches into his pocket and takes out a delicate amber blade.

“This is the knife I use to sever souls from their earthly bodies. What a lot of people, even in Heaven, don’t know is that there’s a little side benefit to it. It wi

ll kill anything. Angels included.”

I take out the golden blade.

“I already have a knife that kills angels. I got it from an angel I killed.”

He flicks the tip with his finger. It rings like a tiny bell.

“Very pretty. The problem is it won’t penetrate an angel’s armor,” he says, pressing the amber knife into my hand. “This will go through armor like water.”

I turn the blade over and over. It feels like it’s vibrating.

“What’s going to happen to you without your knife?”

He drops his Malediction and crushes it under his million-dollar shoes.

“I have no idea, but I’m sure it will be interesting.”

He rubs his hands together.

“And chaotic.”

I put the amber knife in the inside pocket of my coat.

“I’ll get this back to you as soon as possible. By the way, do I have to keep calling you Death?”

He thinks for a few seconds.

“Go back to Samael. As you said, I might not have the job much longer.”

“Thanks. I owe you a drink when this is over.”

“At Bamboo House of Dolls? I’m afraid that’s a bit far for you these days.”

“Nope. I’m going to get home.”

“The eternal optimist.”

“What else have I got?”

He says, “What if you can’t go home? Not all deaths are equal, but this is the most dead you’ve ever been.”

“Are you saying I can’t go home?”

He doesn’t say anything, which says a lot.

Finally he says, “There are some things you can’t trick or punch your way out of. I’m sorry.”

My guts feel like they’ve been dropped down an elevator shaft.