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𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 : 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 & 𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑

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I whirled around, Spiorad gripped tight in my fist. I was crouched down against the ground, hands covered in red suds, ready to swing but I froze. Standing with their arms crossed was a girl, not the angry demon I had assumed it was.

She was short but not a child, not even a teenager. She had dirt smudged across her freckled cheeks and her flaming red hair was like a halo around her head, save for the occasional leaf I saw sticking out from her curls. Her eyes were big, like large saucers the color of freshly watered soil. She had her arms crossed over her chest and for some reason, she didn't look pleased to be here.

"How the hell did you get in?" I snapped, looking to my front door that was still shut and locked.

"Window, upstairs," the girl said with a shrug, her voice deeper than I had expected. She pointed to the floor with a bruised hand. "Is that blood?"

I ignored her comment. "Who are you?"

"Not important-"

"I think it is."

She rolled her eyes. "I think the question you should be asking is who sent me, maybe? Or whether I'm here to kill you, I think that'd be a good start."

I narrowed my eyes, my grip tightening on the hilt of my blade as I eased to my feet. My legs were still sore and I knew if she attacked, I would be slow. "Well?"

"Which would you like to know more about?" the girl mused, walking past me like she was floating across the ground. She kicked at the scrub brush on the ground and smiled.

"Who sent you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"You know what?" I snarled, rubbing the tip of my thumb against the cool metal of my knife. "I think I might just call up the police, say someone broke into my house, that I'm in danger-"

"As if the police would listen," she grinned. "Haven't you forgotten about the demons who work there? The ones under a certain demon's payroll?"

"So, do you work for him then?" I asked, watching as her brows pulled together in taut anger.

"As if he could get me to accept his terms."

"And who the hell even are you?"

She grinned, holding out a hand. "Amy."

I took her hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking. The girl gave me a bold grin before we dropped hands and she jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter. "And should I recognize your name from somewhere?"

Her cheeks flushed pink. "You really are as dumb as you look."

"Listen, I've been insulted enough tonight so if you won't tell me what I want to know, you can leave. There's the door and I won't even attack if you just-" I motioned to the door with both hands. "-leave."

"I work for..." She paused, either for dramatic effect or because she was thinking of a good name to say. "...John."

"John? My John?"

"Your John, my John, does it make a difference? You know who I'm talking about, there's only one John that matters. That has ever mattered."

"He sent you?"

She nodded, annoyed. "Sent me with a message and my allegiance to you. I'm here to help."

"Couldn't you have just started out with that?" I laughed, shaking my head. Don't trust her, don't trust her. "What message does he have for me?"

She straightened up in her spot on the counter, shoulders squaring. "Conner has Ace, completely."

A wave of nausea swept over me and I had to reach out to the chair closest to me to steady myself. If Conner had Ace, could he even come back from that sort of possession? If my mother's journals were correct, there was a way I could free him, to remove Conner without killing my friend. But what of the information both Beatrice and Cage relayed to me? I couldn't trust them, could I?

"He also said for you to stop looking for him, that there's a worse foe coming."

"Like who?" I croaked, my throat feeling tight.

"It seems you might already know."

I thought back to what Conner had said that night, how he had rambled on about his great morning star coming to rid this earth of everything and anything. How his great sinful leader would rise and rain terror and hell. I had that same sick feeling creep back into my skin and I swallowed thickly, finding that my mouth had the faint taste of blood.

The devil was coming. One way or another, he was going to rise.

"And you're here to help me?" I asked, looking up at Amy through the black dots that threatened my vision. I needed to sit down, let this wave of sickness pass. "How?"

"John mentioned something about your pesky Morticianer problem and I am here to offer up my services."

"And I need your help, why?"

"Well, from the rundown I got on the players still in the game, it seems you'll want my help when dealing with Tobias, Blood, and Crow."

"And the others?"

"Oh, you mean Mr. Macabre?" she grinned, waving her hand. "He looks harmless, he's like what, a priest?"

"He's still a demon," I said under my breath, leaning against the counter. "I wouldn't put it past him to be more dangerous than he looks." I sat up on my elbows, feeling exhaustion start to creep in. "How old are you anyways?"

"Older than you."

"By how much?"

"Decades, maybe even a century, I don't know and I don't care, I'm just here to help you, okay?" she shook her head. "I just want to get in-" she threw a few punches in the air. "-and get out so my debt will be paid."

"Your debt? To who? John?"

She nodded, her hands going to her sides. "He helped me with something a while back and, well, now I'm sworn to him."

"So you help me and then you're, what? Set free?"

She nodded again.

My eyes fell onto the journals still scattered across the island and I touched the edges of one gently, bringing my eyes back up to Amy. "Tell me about your host body."

"Like what?"

"Is it dead?"

"Probably, it's been with me way past its expiration date."

"So, does that make you a floater?"

She nodded for a third time, with a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Seems someone has taught you some demonology."

"Hard not to when I have demons coming after me every day," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Isn't it enough that I'm coming from John? What more do you need me to prove?"

"I want to know you won't hurt me," I breathed, sitting up. I laid Spiorad flat against the counter, making sure she saw it. "That while you're helping me, you won't try to kill me."

Amy grinned, flashing surprising white teeth.

"Don't trust her," a voice called out to me as a headache pressed against my temple.

"Bad, bad, bad, bad-"

"She will betray you!"

"I swear my loyalty to you, Blaire Lake," Amy said with a sharp grin. She raised one hand up and brought down a knife I hadn't even noticed she'd picked up from the counter. She stabbed the center of her palm without so much of a wince, letting her black blood pool up before sliding down the sides of her hand. "I pledge my fealty to you and only you."

She motioned with her eyes for me to take my own blade and do the same with my hand. I raised Spiorad and let the tip just barely scratch my surface but just enough so that a little droplet of blood rose to the surface. Amy grabbed my hand as she jumped down from her spot, clasping them together and I tried not to recoil from how disgustingly warm and thick her blood was.

"I give myself to you, as your loyal pet," she purred before our hands dropped and I was left with a nasty palm print against my hand with its center a dull red circle. "This blood oath binds me to your will, thus, keeping me from hurting you."

"And this is...a normal thing with you demons?" I asked, wiping my hand off on a nearby hand towel.

She nodded. "Crow made most of his men swear oaths, even pesky little John and Conner. They broke their blood oaths, which resulted in immediate exile and dishonor. Some even result in death, most do, actually."

"How very..." I trailed off, shaking my head. It seemed right out of a knights handbook, something a king would make his subjects do. I changed the subject, raising an eyebrow as I asked, "Then why haven't John and Conner died?"

"It seems, they could've sworn a blood oath to someone different, more powerful," she shrugged. "If someone more powerful than the original oath maker swears that same person to a blood oath, it can completely overrule its original power."

I found myself scribbling this down in one of the journals that had extra blank pages at the end. "And how do we end a blood oath? Like I wanted to...pardon you from me?"

"You just renounce the oath, verbally should be enough. Since I pledged myself to you, you must be the one to break it."

I nodded, tapping the end of my pen to my lips. "I think this could be good, you working with me."

"Why? So you can endure even more history lessons?" she mused, coming to rest near me. Her eyes flashed from black and then back to normal, subtle, as if I had only blinked.

"Obviously."

She reached for a journal and before I could warn her, she withdrew her hand with a hiss. She held scorched fingers to her lips, sucking them as if that would ease the sting and burn. "Seems that bitch of a mother placed a blood lock on these journals."

"Hey!"

She rolled her eyes. "All witches are bitches, didn't you know that?"

I ignored her, closing the journal before she could see what I had bookmarked, which were the pages on bringing the dead back to life.

"I do, however, have a question for you."

I waited a moment, letting her know I was open and ready to hear whatever she thought was important.

"Why are you covered in dirt and blood?"

I smiled. "I see there are a few things you might like to learn as well in this little partnership."

"Ooh, do tell!"

My grin grew, seemed like Cage might be getting exactly what he wanted now that I had the extra help. "What would you say about breaking into a morgue with me?"

~

Amy was more than willing to help me but after a good night's sleep. I was incredibly thankful, since I had exhaustion creeping into my muscles and legs and I had still needed to clean the floors of blood from the geata.

The wounds in my legs were small, not as horribly deep. Just little puncture wounds that could easily heal with a little salve.

I slept nicely that night. Amy slumbering on the pull out couch downstairs and even with her being a demon, she made me feel safe. Safer with the blood oath or whatever the hell I actually ended up doing. Perhaps I accidentally sold my soul away without knowing or I was bound to her forever. Whichever way it went, it made me feel safe.

We had ended our night parting ways after discussing more about ways to get into the morgue. We both knew it'd be easier to get in at night so we made a plan, marking tomorrow as our potential test date.

And as the night was creeping in, I wasn't confident.

Firstly, Amy was not at all as sneaky as she said she was. Her feet thudded against the ground and her whispers were loud, and even her sleight of hand was poor. And secondly, she disagreed with every idea I came up with, saying we should go with her plan of going right in and not bothering with looking out for anyone.

So, to say we were at a stand still on the decision making wouldn't be an exaggeration.

"Do you even know what you're going to do when we get in there?" Amy asked, feet swinging through the air as she lounged on her back on the couch.

"Yes-"

"No you don't."

I scoffed, "Yes, I do-"

"Liar!"

I balled my hands into fists, it was like working with a child.

"How about this," she said, sitting up. "I go through the front, distract anyone that might be there but I doubt it, while you sneak through the back?"

"And if there're people?"

"I'll, like, call you, I don't know."

"As much as I love your plan," I murmured, fixing the strap on my bag so I could have something in my hands. "I think we should just go in together, since I don't trust you enough-"

"But-"

I waved my hand through the air. "Yea, yeah, I know, the blood oath, whatever. Still doesn't mean I trust you."

"Okay, fine, we go in together," she finally groaned, laying back down. "And what do we do if Crow is in his office or someone is in the morgue?"

"No one should be," I murmured. "Since we'll be there so late, I'd expect the church to be pretty empty."

"And what about security alarms?"

I grinned. "We go in early, find a hiding place and wait it out."

"How long do we have to wait?" she groaned again, showing me just how much she didn't like my plan by the look on her face.

I shrugged. "Until we don't hear anything and the lights go out, I suppose." I stood up, reaching for my bag on the ground. "Now, come on, it's already late."

We gathered our things, Amy taking one of my kitchen knives as protection. I would've thought the little demon would have her own collection of weapons but she'd come with only the clothes she had on her back.

The car ride to the church was silent and I had to park in the lot near the grocery store so no one would grow suspicious about the single car in the church lot once everyone respectfully went home. When we got out of the car, I was surprised to find that the night air was warmer than usual.

I took that as a bad sign already. And, I'll say it now, I should've listened to my gut that this was a no good, terrible idea.

We crept in through the back door, which I found was usually unlocked. There was chatter from the kitchen, so we scurried towards the women's bathroom. It would be out best place to hide and wait out the hour we had before people finally left.

We were lucky that the bathroom had two small stalls so we could hide ourselves in them by standing on the toilets. The hour passed by at an agonizing slow pace but the chatter died completely and we heard the big doors shut, we made our move.

Amy went first down the stairs, the darkness becoming strangely welcoming. When she noted that the office light was off and no one was there, I crept down behind her, my flashlight casting a yellow hue over Amy and the room.

We didn't waste any time, pulling open the drawers of the freezer. The first two were empty but we got lucky with the third, one smack in the middle. I raised a shaking hand, Amy clutching my flashlight in her small hands in anticipation.

My throat felt tight and my head spun with memories of Ace and me being down here, searching for Pandora. It was still bizarre to me that, even after a month, it still didn't feel real. I lost both my friends in one night as easily as it had been to take them. It was like a startling déjà vu, pulling the zipper down the body bag and peeling it back to expose the face.

I blinked, imagining Pandora's lifeless face looking back up at me. Her eyes a clouded gray, her skin already turning a sickly blue gray. The blood that was splattered across her face in color polka dots, resembling one of her many bright outfits.

I blinked again and all I saw was the old man. His eyes were closed and his face was swollen with age. There was no blood, no daring indication of cause of death. I let out a long breath, sucking one back in and filling my lungs to keep myself calm.

"What first?" Amy whispered, breaking me from my thoughts.

I pulled out one of the journals from my bag, flipping the pages until I found the one with the incantations about the dead.

She peered over the body cross from me, looking at the writings. "Easy one first, I'm guessing?"

I nodded, running the line over in my head before speaking. "Surge! Surge! Surge!"

(Rise! Rise! Rise!)

When the man's body, who's name card was scrawled with the name Martin, didn't stir, I read from a different line.

I spoke with more force, my voice rising as even one hand rose into the air as I snapped, "Abyssus abyssum invocat. Propria manu. Adducite eam ad me. Excitare!"

(Deep calleth unto deep, by one's own hand, bring it back to me, awaken!)

Still, the body did not move.

"Shouldn't it be working?" Amy hissed, poking the dead man's cheek.

"I'm new at this," I growled under my breath, rereading the lines before snapping out, "Surge! Surge! Surge!" I continued that group of three words two more times and I thought, just for a moment, that Martin's chest began to rise and fall but it was just my eyes playing a cruel trick on me.

"How new are you, exactly?"

"Very."

"Maybe it needs to be spontaneous, from the soul."

I bit my lip, brows furrowing as I tapped the journal. I didn't need to recite poetry or anything too complicated to bring this man back, I knew it had to be straight forward. But even the simplest incantations hadn't worked for my father but it might not have worked for him since he didn't have witches' blood. That was his most fatal flaw, in all of this.

I took a deep breath, steading both hands above the body as if I were channeling what was left of his soul. If there was even any soul left.

"Sit hoc mortuus excitare! Ferre animam eius porro!"

(Let this dead man wake! Bring his soul forth!)

"What the hell does that mean?" Amy asked in a whisper as we waited and watched the body.

I didn't respond, thinking for just a moment that I saw movement. I gripped the sides of the table, sucking in a breath because this might've worked, this could've worked.

Thud!

Amy's head popped up and our eyes met, the room growing uncomfortably silent.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Get in," Amy hissed, pulling open one of the empty drawers. "Get in, get in!"

I pushed the body back inside and locked the door before hopping onto one of the tables Amy had pulled out. I reached into the freezer and took hold of one of the metal rods inside and pulled myself and my table in. Amy shut my door with a swift kick of her foot and I turned my flashlight off and held my breath.

The thumping sounded like footsteps and I cursed myself for not taking a look around the church before going down here. I should've been more careful, cautious with what we were doing.

I heard the door from the stairs open and shut. I pulled Spiorad free from my jacket slowly, looking to my right and seeing Amy laying on her stomach facing her little door. The steps pounded against the stairs and I looked to my left, seeing the man's body, still unbelievably still.

"Are you sure you heard someone?" a voice snapped and I didn't recognize it.

"Positive," another snapped, still unrecognizable. "You wait here in case they come back, I'll take another look upstairs."

I heard one set of feet on the steps and even as I strained my ears, I couldn't hear the other man. We just needed to keep quiet and perfectly still and we could make it out of here without a fight. I didn't need to go breaking my nose again any time soon.

"Uhhhh."

My eyes shot over to Amy and her head whipped to face me. She mouthed, "Was that you?"

I shook my head, my heart in my throat because god, tell me it didn't work. It couldn't have.

"Uhh."

"Who's there?!" the man shouted and I prayed he didn't open my drawer as I heard the unforgettable click and cock of a gun.

"No, no, no," I whispered to myself as I finally turned to look at the dead man. He was still and as stiff as a board but his lips were parted and his head tilted to the side. Did it work? Oh fuck, did it actually work? I stared at the man, daring him to move and when he didn't, I nearly let out a sigh of relief. It could've been my imagination but the way the man's body was now positioned told me, horrifyingly, otherwise.

"Whoever is in there needs to come out!"

Amy began to shift and I reached a hand out to stop her but she was kicking open the door and pouncing, as nimble as a cat. Light forced its way inside and I could now see how many bodies were actually around me in the freezer and it sent a chill straight to my bones. Besides Amy's empty space, I was surrounded.

"Who the fuck are you?" the man sneered and I heard Amy laugh.

"Pity you won't recognize who kills you tonight, Aiden Tobias."

His gun fired and I flinched, not stopping myself as my legs jerked and I gasped at the ricocheting violence. I didn't get to freeze, to hold my breath, or even practice my lunge off the table before the door was open and big hands were pulling my table out with a hard yank. The metal ground and screeched and I sat up on my elbows, looking straight into the eyes of the notorious Tobias.

My mother's journal described him perfectly. His blonde hair was cut short, shaved on the sides and leaving long smooth locks on top. Tonight, he wore a short sleeved brown shirt that matched the color of his eyes and complimented his complexion quite nicely that I could barely form a thought besides: killer, killer, killer.

"You're-you're-"

He smiled, perfectly. His skin was golden and he had freckles across his large biceps. He was Crow's opposite, almost completely so, save for the way they both carried themselves and their strength. Tobias was golden and glowing, while Crow was dark and brooding.

This man was Crow's second and I could tell by the glint in his eyes that he never failed. He never left without the perfect, precise kill.

I noticed splintered wood near the stairs and Amy leaning back against the railing, holding a blood arm. She peeled her hand away, showing me it was only a graze, but the rage in her eyes told me she wasn't leaving tonight without a good brawl.

"Why were you two ladies hiding here with the bodies?" he asked, motioning towards the freezer with his gun, showing us that he had the upper hand here.

"For...fun."

"For fun?"

I nodded, closing my fist tightly around the hilt of Spiorad. I didn't know why he suddenly had me at a loss for words, I wanted to blame it on the gun, most definitely the gun, but the wild part of me blamed it on his beauty. I didn't know the skin of a killer would be one of a god.

He reached for me and I held up my knife, shaking my head at him and he held up his hands. He backed off a step, allowing me to get off the table as I held my knife out with both hands.

"You killed my brothers with that knife," he said, not asking but stating.

I nodded. "Don't make the same mistake they did."

"And that is?"

"Underestimating me."

Amy pushed away from the stairs, her bloody hand curled around her own kitchen knife. She came to stand opposite of the table I had just gotten off of, her eyes watching Tobias with a devious glare.

"Who was with you?" Amy asked.

"No one you should concern yourself with," answered Tobias with a shrug. He rested his gun at his side, the weapon thumping against his thigh as if to draw our eyes there. "What you should be worrying about is whether or not you'll be leaving here alive."

"So you kill us and what?" Amy laughed, taking the words right out my mouth. "Get a little pay day from Crow?"

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "You don't get it."

I frowned. "Get what?"

"I'm not here for Crow, I'm here for myself," he snapped. "I'm killing you for me. I don't care about money, I care about that-" he pointed to me with his gun. "-bitch, who killed my friends."

"They forced my hand," I grunted out, acting as if anything I could say would justify how I murdered them. He and I were the same, both just killers trying to get their own form of justice.

"And now, I'm going to force yours."

He raised his gun and before either Amy and I could scream, he fired.

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hope u guys r enjoying this so far!! writing this series again has definitely been such a good thing for me the past few weeks and i hope you all are liking it too

pls pls comment/vote and let me know what u think of amy so far