“I can give you that.”

Blaire jolted in surprise and whipped to Death. “What?”

“A tour,” he explained. “It may put a damper in our plans but…it’s no issue.”

Blaire choked on laughter. “You can’t be serious. I want to get the furthest I can get from you.”

“I admit that I may have…rushed…our relationship. But I assure you this was not only for my benefit.”

“Nothing about this is for my benefit.”

“You keep fighting me and you’ll die,” Death assured. “There’s a limit when your courage turns to stupidity.”

Blaire inhaled sharply. “What’s stupid is relying on a bloodthirsty demon in Hell.”

“This isn’t Hell.”

“Then where am I?” Blaire hissed.

“You’re home.” Death stepped forward and lowered his voice soothingly. “Let me show you around.”

Blaire bolted past Death back into the dim lit hall inside. Glais and Asper were long gone, leaving a guard and snakes sporadically slithering around.

Without pausing to think, she turned and ran with no destination in mind. Even if she had, she wouldn’t find the place alone—if it even existed.

The outside existed. That much was certain.

Death would catch her before then. Of course he would. And would he be so generous as to give her a tour? Doubtful. She’d be locked in her room.

But was that really so bad? To be divided from the demons? Waiting helplessly until they unlocked the doors?

“Hey.”

Blaire tripped and stumbled clumsily forward, clawing onto the air. Her hands ended up finding support on the staircase banister on her right.

Reluctantly, Blaire turned her head to the left and saw a demon resting against the wall, her hands tucked casually behind her back. She was a beautiful woman; a reflection of Death’s wife twenty years younger. Her black hair tumbled down her shoulder, blanketing one of her ebony eyes. She was so obviously a demon, but she emited a harmless, empathetic aura.

“Want me to show you the way out?”

…

Arie led me to the double doors, the back exit, and nodded at shadows on the left and right. The guards had been so still Blaire hadn’t been aware of their presence.

Without question, the two doors opened and a burst of arctic wind crashed into Blaire.

Arie waved Blaire forward as she stepped into the outdoor mist. They were on cobbled stone, but Blaire couldn’t see it underneath the thin fog. She was ankle deep in the substance, making it appear as if Arie and Blaire were walking on a cloud. A very restless cloud blanketing an endless gray yard, disappearing into a black forest half a mile away.

“If you are thinking of running, don't.” Arie took note of Blaire’s lingering gaze on the forest. “You’ll likely get lost, and you’ll definitely die.”

Blaire glared. “Maybe it’s better to die out there than here.”

“It’s not.” Arie waved Blaire as she began to stride through the mist.

“It doesn’t look impressive-” No, it doesn’t. “-but when we host events out here, it’s much more entertaining.”

Blaire’s head swayed, taking in the grim wall of dark greenery.

“You have a maze.” Blaire meant it as a question, but Arie understood.

She shrugged, as if a garden maze in the backyard was common.

Blaire glanced at the gloomy, Victorian mansion in ill surprise. It was a Halloween mockery of King Louis XIV’s Versaille. So large. So intimidating.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Arie said suddenly, forcing Blaire to acknowledge Death’s confession.

The truth smothered any hope-albeit little-she still had.

Thin tears rolled down her face.

She was so mad. So mad. Of course, Cole was dead. Of course! Who could survive this world—especially as a child?

Blaire clenched her hands, biting back the urge to hurt something.

She didn't want to think of it. Think of Cole when he was a kid, surrounded by demons, torn from his family. She didn't want to think of how long he lasted before he…he-

Blaire inhaled sharply.

If Cole had survived, if he had never been involved in this mess, he would have made it to…twenty-three years old. Less harsh of a personality, warmer to the touch as well. His eyes would be soft, like honey again.

Cole should have lived. He should have been traveling the world, exploring places he had read and dreamed about.

Blaire should have been chosen, should have died here.

The serpent princess came to a sudden, thoughtful stop. 

Misinterpreting Blaire’s frustration for fear, Arie said gently, “Coal’s young, but he isn’t evil. I know he didn’t mean to hurt you as much as he had. As long as you are my father’s Chosen, you will be safe.”

Arie may believe Blaire was safe, and maybe that was true. But who wants to be protected by the man who murdered your best friend, stole his body, and probably planned on doing the same to you?

Only a fool would trust someone like Death, Viperei, King of Snakes…

Blaire gently curved her hand over her bite wound.

Three days. She has three days of freedom.

Glais’s voice rang out in her head, reminding her that the bite is necessary, that without it she will suffer. That three days of freedom may actually be a curse.

Blaire felt sick.

The cold air dropped to a deadly degree, and Blaire began backing away from Arie.

“Blaire?”

“I’m feeling tired,” she explained, her eyes still on Arie. “I’m going to go to my room.”

Arie frowned and opened her mouth. Blaire waited for Arie to point out that Blaire just woke.

“I’ll walk you,” Arie said, surprising Blaire.

“No need.” Blaire held up her hand. “I’d like to be alone.”

“It’s not safe for you to walk alone,” Arie protested and Blaire arched an eyebrow.

“I thought you said I was safe.”

“I’m not worried of anyone harming you. I’m worried of you harming yourself.”

Blaire scoffed at the thought.

“Maybe not now,” Arie sighed. “But in a day or two, you might.”

There was a horrible pause as the air was silenced and Blaire stopped.

“Most do,” Arie explained somberly, and the breeze returned, howling.