Page 215 of Evil Hearts

Chapter 1: Quinn

A nger.

Envy.

Fear.

Such frivolous words. A smile curves my lips as I advance forward. The mortal slams his back against the brick wall behind him. His left eye is swollen shut, his nose gushes blood, and he has a cut above his right eyebrow. He trembles from head to toe.

“S-stay back!”

“What’s wrong?” I ask and stop to tilt my head at him. “I thought you enjoyed playing this game.”

He shakes his head several times, his good eye is wide with fear. His heart thumps fast and hard. He’s petrified of me, with or without knowing exactly what he’s thinking. “I d-don’t want to play this.”

“I don’t see why not,” I lift my shoulders in a half shrug. I lift my tattered wings higher than my shoulders to block out the street lights behind me. It’s better in the dark, better to strike fear into the mortal’s core. “You were playing this game just fine with that girl earlier. What, don’t prefer playing this game with a male?”

The game is easy to follow and simple to learn. One plays the predator, and the other is the prey. Some can play this game easily; others, you have to manipulate. The mortal before me manipulated a fair-haired girl into playing before she met her untimely death at his hands. Now that I’m insisting on playing the same game, he doesn’t appear to be enjoying it.

“It’s d-different,” he says. The mortal reaches up to swipe at his bleeding nose. Dirt is caked beneath his fingernails, and blood stains his fingers. He reeks of sweat, blood, semen, and dirt. My nose wrinkles in disgust.

I know his kind all too well. It’s all the more reason to put him six feet under, as he’d done with the girl only a couple hours prior.

“Different, you say?” I step forward, holding out my arms. “Look at you, covered in filth and stinking of fear. It’s very stifling.” I lean forward, and he shrinks against the brick wall.

“I can’t begin to imagine how that girl must’ve felt.” I tilt my head, my gaze burning into his. “ Can you ?” He swallows hard and shakes his head. “A pity,” I tell him and lift up my arm. The mortal squeezes his eyes shut. “You were terrible at the game you created.” And I slash downward.

There’s a loud crack, and the mortal’s body slumps and pitches forward. The front of his body is pressed against the dirt. Blood oozes from his cracked skull, and some of the brain peeks through his disheveled red hair.

“A pity you were terrible at the game you created? You sounded poetic, do you know that?”

I dart a glance over my shoulder and purse my mouth into a frown. “Like you could’ve come up with anything better.”

Pitched on top of the dumpster close by is a Demon with bright blazing red wings. He gives me a wide grin. “Oh, you know it. But that involves thinking, and you know how I am about such things.”

“Always the cheater, Raphe,” I say and turn back to the corpse at my feet. “Now, what to do with you.” I lift my foot and kick at the mortal’s side. He rolls a fraction backward, and scarlet rivers flow down his swollen cheeks.

“Talking to your dinner again?” Raphael clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Some things never change, even after three decades.”

My back stiffens, and I swallow back the retort on my lips, lifting my head to look at the blood splatters on the wall. My jaw tics several times when Raphael doesn’t say anything.

He’s no room to talk. After all, he fell when Lucifer did over a millennium ago. He followed Lucifer and the rest of the Fallen Angels to the pits of Hell. I, on the other hand, was cast out only thirty years ago. A lifetime that spanned the blink of an eye in the Heavenly Realm, but it drags on the earth.

“Q? You good?” Raphael pipes up.

I blink several times and shake my head slowly. It didn’t matter how long ago I’d fallen. None of it matters anymore. I would never get to right my mistakes, so I made up for it by killing the mortals that got a thrill out of killing their own species. An eye for an eye, as the saying went.

“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “Shouldn’t you be conversing with Lucy?”

“Pfft, no.” The dumpster beneath Raphael groans as he jumps down. I turn to fully face him. “Lucy can take care of himself. I’m actually here on a secret mission.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “Secret mission? What is it?”

He walks over and puts a finger to my lips. “Shh. Mum’s the word.”

I smack his hand away. “Get that thing out of my face. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

Raphael chuckles, his eyes alight with humor. “All the more reason to listen to why I’ve spent the past three days looking for your ass.”

I frown at him. “I’m listening.”

“There’s been talk in the pits,” he says, lowering his voice.

I roll my eyes heavenward. “There’s always gossip down there. So what?”

Raphael leans closer. “A Fallen got a second chance.”

A lump forms in my throat and makes it hard to swallow. A second chance? A Fallen redeemed himself?

I’ve a hard time just spitting the word out, and when I do, it’s merely a whisper. “How?”

“You heard about Lucy getting married briefly, right?”

If looks could kill, he would be six feet under. “What’s that got to do with—”

“The Fallen he wed, she got the second chance.”

Any words I was about to say dies on my tongue. Lucifer had married a Fallen Angel. That same Fallen had gotten a second chance? Her? Out of all people?

“Impossible.”

“Gabe says she got redeemed. She now lives as a mortal,” Raphael says with a sad smile. The twinkle in his eyes is gone. He’s more solemn then I’ve ever seen him. And unfortunately, he’s been one of my constant companions since I fell. To see him this way makes my chest tight.

“Jezza got saved…” I trail off. Jezza had been known as one of the cruelest Fallen Angels in existence. If she had been saved, could that mean…could there be a chance for me too?

Raphael nods slowly. “She did. And that’s why I wanted to come and find you.”

“Why?” My hands ball into fists at my sides. “To give me false hope?” I can’t keep the bite out of my words.

He reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder. I stiffen beneath his touch. “No, Q. To give you the chance you deserve.”

I level my eyes to him. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Well, that’s the million-dollar question now, isn’t it?” Raphael says and releases his hold on my shoulder. “I don’t exactly know myself.”

I give him a deadpanned expression. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll think of something,” Raphael mutters and takes a few steps away from me. “Anyway, I gotta head back before Lucy throws a tantrum.” Before I can utter a curse at him, he’s gone in a plume of red smoke.

I let out a breath, shake my head, and turn to look down at the corpse. Now there are two things on my plate to worry about. Hiding a dead body or getting a second chance? Which will come easier?

My eyes roam over the blood pooling at my feet. Definitely hiding a dead body.