The Underworld (Chapter Seven, page 1 of 7)


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They're leaving without me.

Past-Death watched the two women race down the hallway towards the stairs. Not that she expected Deidre to come back for her after all they'd been through, but …

It stung knowing she was being left behind by everyone. She hadn't been able to find the key to the other door and had stalked a few different death dealers to look for it only to come up empty handed.

Everything hurts. Past-Death stood frozen in the hallway for a long moment, until they disappeared up the stairs. She blinked away tears that shouldn't be possible to feel in a dream.

Trudging down the hallway, she traced their steps, this time stopping in the room with the guards to find the key to the demon's chains. After grabbing it, she continued into the main palace. Deidre was safe and well, and there was nothing past-Death was able to do if she didn't escape her cell first.

The path was so familiar, her feet went where they needed to while she spent time in her thoughts, trying to quell the pain of betrayal and loneliness.

Only when she stood outside her old bedchamber did she blink back into reality. Opening the door, past-Death paused to take in the destruction with no small amount of horror. This room had been hers for thousands of years. Seeing it in such disarray weighed her heart down even more.

She made her way around the mess, seeking out the jewelry box where she knew the soul she sought was located. Her gaze strayed to the door in the corner, the one containing secrets only the deity Death was permitted to know. The sight of it made her think of Gabriel, which made her even sadder.

Pushing away the emotions, she focused instead on doing what little good she was able to. Kneeling beside the jewelry box, she opened it, only to find the soul gone.

"Shit!"

The dream began to wobble and fade. If the soul wasn't here, who had found it? How did she recover it, before Harmony figured out how to fuck over Gabriel for good?

How did she tell Gabriel she'd failed him yet again? Frustration and sorrow made her eyes water. She was turning out to be the worst human ever.

Past-Death snatched the content of the box, a tarnished ring, before she was yanked out of the dream once more.

"Hey, cupcake."

She groaned, gripping her head hard. The headache was pulsing, her general fatigue adding to the discomfort. She expected to feel the same sense of betrayal she did in the dream and was relieved that she was … numb.

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