Dark Forsaken (The Devil's Assistant Book 3) (2 page)

“Wait,” she said, tightening her grip even more on her bag. “I need your help.”

I cocked one eyebrow at her. “With what?”

“Death,” she whispered.

I leaned back in my chair, sighing. “Well, he can be an ass, but what exactly do you think I can do about it?”

Her eyebrows drew together and she shook her head. “Nothing, it was stupid for me to come.” Standing, she added, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I have to go.”

Using my will, I closed the office door and pushed her back in her seat. She gasped, her eyes wide with panic as the invisible force moved her. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to die,” she blurted, closing her eyes and turning her head to the side as if waiting for a blow.

“What the fu—” Did she think I’d kill her for no reason? Regaining my composure, I said, “Kid, open your eyes. I have no plans to kill you.”

Reluctantly, she squeezed one eye open, but her face still grimaced with impending pain. “You
aren’t
going to kill me?”

“Why the hell would I? I don’t even know you.”

She straightened up in her seat, but her eyes remained wary. “The guy—he said you would. If I didn’t kill you, he said—”

I jumped from my seat as her words registered. Energy crackled at my wrists and hellfire coalesced in both palms. Startled, Sydney bolted for the door, but I tossed a fireball between her and the exit, scorching the wall and blocking her path. She pulled back, retreating to the corner and again bracing herself for a blow.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, another fireball readied in my palm. My sight flashed again and the symbol on her forehead flared as our eyes met.

Swallowing, she said, “Sydney. My name is Sydney. I made a mistake. I changed my mind. I don’t want to die.”

“Sydney. Calm down. I don’t want to kill you, but I want to know what guy sent you down here to kill me—or be killed?” The words tripped off my tongue as I realized what I was saying—
oh, holy fuck
. Was this girl the Death Seeker? “Who sent you?”

Sydney’s voice lowered. “This is going to sound crazy.” I raised an eyebrow. “I mean, it is crazy, but after what happened six weeks ago, I didn’t have a choice, you know?”

Six weeks ago. That was when Raven and I fought, but she couldn’t mean that. I motioned for her to continue.

“A guy I met online said you could help me. Sort of. He said there was a game I had to play. He said if I killed you, I’d win and be immortal. And if I lost, my death would be quick—no pain.” Her voice dropped again. “I didn’t believe him, not really, but after living your whole life thinking you’ve got years and then one day, you fall to your knees with a pain so sharp it hurts to the bone and when you stand again, you know everything’s different. Then you look in the mirror and see yourself whole for the first time and you know you’re going to die. I just didn’t want to die so young.”

I stared at her with my mouth half open. Had she felt the pain from the fatal wound I’d given Raven? “Was the pain in your leg?” I asked. She nodded, confirming my suspicions. She’d felt the pain just as I had when Raven was stabbed last summer. The timing couldn’t be a coincidence. She was the Death Seeker, one of the contenders, a girl that fit the prophecy. “Okay, I want you to sit. We’re going to talk this through, and you’re going to start with why you want to die—quickly.”

She hesitated, keeping a chokehold on her bag. Her eyes darted to the closed door.

“Tell me why you think your death is going to be painful and I’ll tell you who you really are.”

Her eyes widened. I nodded at the chair. Reluctantly, she decided to sit.

“You first,” she said.

I shook my head. “You first.”

With a long sigh, she began. “It was the last day of camp. Some older kids were sneaking out and going to the local fair. I thought it would be fun, so I went along. This fortune teller was there. She told me I’d die a painful death—and before you roll your eyes, you should know that nine of the ten things she said have come true.”

“What were the other nine?”

“Some were stupid, like I’d get all A’s again on my report card, but others were more specific. She said a boy with red hair would be my first kiss. And before you think I made that one happen, you should know I thought I was kissing Rhys Montgomery—blond hair—but there were two Draculas at the fall festival and I let Steve Mayberry kiss me. I mean, ugh, right?”

Her face was all scrunched up and I had to stifle a laugh. Poor Steve, maybe he’d grow into his looks.

“Then there was my parents’ death. A twin I knew nothing about. And a dog named Comehere saved my life. So yeah, random supposedly-fake fortune teller Madam Cretchnova’s predictions have been dead-on so far.”

“Your parents are dead?”

Sydney looked down. “It happened a long time ago and they weren’t my real parents. I didn’t know. They never told me, but they adopted me as a baby. I found out about the twin when I was shoved into foster care six years ago.”

“Sorry, I know how sucky that can be. I was in the system from four to sixteen.”

She looked away, touching the corner of her eye with one finger. I pretended not to notice as she wiped away a tear.

“Okay, so tell me about your power.”

Sydney shook her head. “You said you’d tell me who I really was.”

She was right, but I needed to understand her power first. “I need to know about your power first. Then I’ll tell you. I promise.”

She took a breath. “It’s stupid.” She dug into her bag and pulled out a sketchbook. Flipping to a page near the back, she held up a drawing she’d obviously done in the waiting room.

It was a fairly realistic headshot of Connie, but half the drawing was of an old, withered woman with a slight resemblance to Connie’s younger self.

“I can tell when someone’s going to die. I can see it on their face,” she said, tapping the old version of Connie. “Right side always looks as they do today, the left looks as they’ll look when they die.”

“Okay,” I said, “So you saw yourself whole?”

She nodded. “I was even. Both sides the same. I’d been looking at a grandmother on half my face for my entire life, and then six weeks ago, after the sharp pain in my leg, the grandmother half was gone. Now, I just see myself as I look in pictures. It’s not exactly a science, but the more even someone looks the closer they are to death.” She slid her sketchbook back into her bag. “You, me, the hottie in the waiting room: we all look like we’ll be dead any minute.”

I thought of who might be out there and then realized she had to mean Sorrel, The Boss’s second middle child and his idea of providing me with protection. I gave her a description to confirm. “Dark hair, sitting by the desk? Pissy look on his face?”

“Yeah, he’s a goner.”

“And we look like that?” I asked.

She shrugged, “Not as perfect, so we could have days or weeks. I mean, I’ve been living with this,” she said, pointing at her face, “for over a month.”

“And you still think you’re going to die?”

“I’ve never met anyone with a face as even as mine or yours that wasn’t within days of death. I have no idea why I’ve lasted this long.”

Sorrel was immortal, so unless he chose to look different he’d look the same now as when he died—if he died. “You say you always know, but your parent’s death was a shock?”

Sydney shook her head. “I knew they’d die, but when you’re ten it’s hard to really tell age on a face—and theirs was always red and maybe a little bloated. I hadn’t really noticed they’d gotten so close until it was too late. And the warning from Cretchnova came the night they died. I’d been at camp for three weeks. I thought I was so grown up, sneaking out, but I got separated from the group and wandered into the fortuneteller’s tent. What she said freaked me out. I ran all the way back to the camp. The police were there. I thought it was because we’d snuck out, but no, they were there to tell me my parents’ car had gone off a cliff. My mom was still alive when they found them, but she bled out on the way to the hospital. They’d been trapped in the car, hanging upside down, for three days. Cretchnova said my parents were dead and that I’d die young. At the time, I thought she was some nut, you know.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “But not now. Everything else has come true.”

I glanced at the door, knowing Sorrel and his perfect face was out there. “You should know something about the guy in the waiting room,” I said to her. “He’s looked like that for almost five hundred years. He’s immortal. He’ll look like that until the day he dies.” I wasn’t sure this would make her feel better, but it was possible the magic that was unleashed when I killed Raven and started the prophecy had locked us all in stasis until the final girl won. Why else would she have felt the pain of Raven’s wound as I had?

Raising her eyebrows in shock, she said, “So you’re saying I’m already immortal?”

“I’m saying the odds are good I’m not dying today, and unless your lost twin is waiting outside to kill us both, then you’re probably safe, too.”

Her brow furrowed. “My twin is dead.”

“Did you kill her?” I asked.

Sydney’s face went white. “No!”

I held out my hands, palms up. “Then how do you know she’s dead?”

“The birth certificate said she died.”

That didn’t mean the twin was dead—I’d bet money she wasn’t. The prophecy would already be toast if there weren’t a fourth girl, but first I needed to know who sent Sydney. “We’ll get to that in a minute. First, tell me about the guy that sent you down here to kill me or die.”

She rolled her eyes. “I said I changed my mind.”

“Humor me, or I won’t tell you anything.”

“I don’t know the guy’s name and I guess maybe I came to see what you were. I don’t know. But I can’t kill you. I can’t kill anyone. I just didn’t want to die a painful death at seventeen, you know?”

The term self-fulfilling prophecy came to mind. Even if she’d tried to kill me and I retaliated, there was no guarantee her death would have been quick. And trying to avoid her fate could just as easily cause it to happen. I hadn’t been able to save Junior last spring and my actions had made sure it happened as I’d seen it. “Tell me about this guy you met that gave you such stellar advice.”

“I never
met
him—it was just online. He said you could help me. He said if I killed you I’d be immortal, and if not, you’d kill me quickly.”

I leaned in until our eyes were level. Trying the audible persuasion that I’d acquired last spring when I stepped into Purgatory, I put a small amount of power in my voice and said, “What’s his name?”

Unfortunately, she shrugged. “I didn’t get it.”

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t get his name?” I yelled. “You took his advice—to try and
kill
someone? You listened to some random guy online?”

She shrugged. “I’m dying anyway. I knew I wasn’t really coming here to kill you. Deep down, I knew you’d just take me out. It didn’t seem that risky.”

I pushed away from the desk and stood to pace. There was logic in her reasoning—screwy, bat-shit crazy logic, but she’d said she was desperate.

“Taking advice from a guy online was stupid,” I said. “You could have walked into anything.” And there are a lot of things worse than death, but I didn’t tell her that.

Not to mention this guy had to know about the prophecies. Why else would he send her to me? Surely my reputation as Fall Queen didn’t include death to all seekers. Could the online guy be Death? Of course, I wouldn’t have put it past Omar, the fourth realm seer that wanted the Fall Queen role permanently filled, to consider it prudent that I go ahead and knock off another contender. He was the prophecy expert, but would he really manipulate this girl into coming here? He had to know I’d try to save her. Of course, there was no guarantee he needed the winner to be me, so giving another contender the advice to try and kill me wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. It wasn’t like he’d contacted me since I was stuck here on Earth.

Arms crossed over my chest, I stopped to stare at her. I needed to set her straight about a few things. “It was stupid to take his advice. You don’t even know why he wants you to kill me, or me to kill you. But I’m going to try and explain it because whoever the online guy is, he didn’t tell you everything.”

She glanced at the door, but stayed seated.

“There are these prophecies about the Fallen Queen and we fit the profile of the girl from the prophecies.” Her eyebrows rose in surprise or skepticism, but she didn’t say anything. “Don’t worry, there have been thousands over time, so we aren’t all that special in that respect.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. “Then in what respect are we special?”

“There’s another prophecy that states that when four girls that fit the profile are alive at one time, the end of days will begin.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You and me—that’s two.”

“Your sister and a girl named Raven that I killed six weeks ago make four.”

Her face went slack.

Before she could say anything, I hurried to finish. “I don’t know where your sister is, and I didn’t want to kill anyone—not even Raven, but she gave me no choice. It was her or me. So as long as you don’t plan to try to kill me, then we don’t have a problem. Okay?”