Page 47 of Stalked By Pestilence

Pale blonde hair was swept back from his staggering red eyes. His skin was pure white with a subtle hint of purple. His sharp features were striking on him, but ominous in a way very few possessed. Black-feathered wings were folded behind him, but otherwise, he was in a crisp black suit with a red tie.

He’d leaned against a desk, his arms crossed over his chest, acting as though our encounter here was perfectly normal.

“Bride?” I finally asked, breathless and confused.

The dangerous rich boy grinned at me. “Yes, Emily Jackson. Your father promised you to me nearly three decades ago. Had you not encountered that loathsome Horseman, then I might’ve gone about this differently. But your soul was at risk. I had to be rather hasty and collect it before he could. I’m sure you understand.”

What the fuck was this asshole talking about?

“My father?” I parroted in disbelief. “Wait…collect?”

I peered down and noticed I wasn’t in the outfit I’d gone to bed in. I was in a tight top with boning and a see-through lace skirt that clung to my hips and legs all the way to the floor. And my skin was pale as fuck. It’d lost its golden glow. My body felt different, too. I couldn’t explain it, but it was as if I’d lost some piece of myself in the fall.

“Where the fuck am I?” I asked when he didn’t answer.

The stranger was suddenly in front of me, tilting my head back with a firm hand. “Why, dearest Emily, you’re in Hell. I thought that was obvious.”

“You—”

“Took your soul, yes.”

Fuck.

Chapter Nineteen

Zelus

Ithought eternity was too long, but after meeting Emily, it wasn’t long enough—and I wouldn’t get that much time with her because she was mortal.

Fuck the end of the world.

It couldn’t have her.

Emily was mine.

Wasting even a day I could be spending with her was buggering me up, but until I’d dealt with the demon, she wasn’t safe. I’d have a lot of groveling to do once I finished this wanker off.

Thanatos was one of few I trusted to protect her in my stead. Death was formidable to either side of the politicalcoin, and it was few who would go toe to toe with him. Better, that feisty bird turned Lady Death cared deeply for my Viper. She’d keep her out of harm’s way.

I leaned back against the brick wall behind me, a breath escaping my mouth and smoking the air.

Nothing and no one had ever weighed on me like this pretty little viper did. Never lived under my skin and constantly plagued my thoughts. Fate was a clever minx. Now that I had her, I didn’t want to let her go. Suppose that was its design.

But knowing she’d seen the monster I was—the true one who’d tried to kill her friend and at one point planned to take her soul—was eating me alive.

I needed her to live so I could spend the next however many years it took groveling like a bastard who didn’t deserve her but wanted her. Nothing was more important to me. Centuries upon centuries of wandering, and I’d finally found the reason for living. And no doubt she was presently masterminding my murder.

My lips ticked up in amusement. Bet she’d use clever means. But angry was better than dead. Better than the hostage of some unknown demon.

“Zelus,” a skin-crawling baritone greeted.

My eyes shot open. The figure looming barely two steps in front of me captured my attention. How long he’d been there, I couldn’t say. Trouble with Limos was that you’d never know he was in the room unless he wanted you to.

“Ghost.”

His red eyes rose and then he handed me a paper, handwritten notes scrolled across it in bold ink. I took it and perused the page, my throat catching on a single name.

“You’re sure?”