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Samus was petrified, his legs turned weak and he fell to the ground. Deborah covered her mouth and almost threw up while Darcy turned pale and gagged a few times. A woman jumped off the building and landed right at the entrance. Blood splattered and tainted the ground around her. The dead woman faced Darcy, staring at her with her blank gaze. “Kelly Clarkson is dead!” High up in the building, two men and a woman stood before the ceiling-to-floor window. They swirled the glasses of wine in their hands as they looked at the red spot down on the street.

I had to make the rest of them see we were dealing with killers. The woman seemed to be thinking it over. “Probably. But so what? A little death ain’t so bad. Not like it’s permanent.” I was sure I must have misheard her. “Sorry, what?” “She’d be dead for a bit, give the boy a chance to say he broke it off with her.” I felt like I’d had my legs kicked out from under me. “And then she’d come back to life?” “Of course,” said the woman, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Nobody stays dead in Nekromel.”

The door creaked open. Gorak entered, still bare-chested, his braids swaying as he kicked off his boots. His amber eyes locked on her immediately, raking over her bound form, oiled skin glistening in the firelight, golden hair fanned out, bare pussy exposed and vulnerable. “Fuck,” he rumbled, voice thick with approval. He approached slowly, circling her like a predator admiring prey. “Look at you, little sun. All cleaned up and shining. That pale skin… those full tits heaving… and that smooth cunt, begging for a real cock.”

Death's tone still lacked emotion. "Luce we have another gu-" Peter's voice got muffled. Lucifer went to run out but stopped when a woman came through the tavern's doors. Death turned around, emotion returning to his face in full force. He couldn't hide his astonishment. The woman stood 6'2" with long white hair that went down to her shoulder blades. Her brown irises had a cut of white in them. Her sleeveless red shirt and red shorts wrapped tightly around her body revealing a clear muscular figure. Her pale skin matched Death's, causing Kahvis to shift his gaze between the two. Her expression looked like someone who had just been woken up.

The grey uniform is laid out on the chair. It looks like a shroud. I walk to the window. I look at my reflection in the dark glass. I see a girl who counted cracks in the ceiling to survive. I see a girl who let men use her body like a stress ball because she thought endurance was a virtue. I see a girl who thought that if she was quiet enough, small enough, invisible enough, the monsters would eventually lose interest. That girl is dead. Sofia Greco killed her in the garden.

Denise also told Bryan that he would die soon and that his body would be converted into a drug called Lotus-9. “I watched her kill babies of all ages,” Denise explained to Bryan. “It wasn’t just adults. I witnessed her kill a teenage mom and her six-month-old baby. She didn’t discriminate. That’s why they call her The Mother of Death. She uses death as a foundation to support her drug operations.” Denise paused for a minute, releasing a sigh of disgust. “Boneseeker Men help produce the narcotic she sells. Once a Boneseeker Man consumes a human body, he produces a chemical. This chemical is extracted from the creature’s body and converted into a drug called Lotus-9. It’s like a narcotic, but

It was too cold and quiet. I quickly looked at the door. There were no whispers, no movement, I breathed out slowly. “Maybe the nightmare was over.” “Maybe today has broken whatever madness that started last night,” I said. As I walked into my bedroom, I froze. The woman in white sat calmly at the edge of my bed, and water was dripping from her onto the floor. She slowly lifted her face, this time I saw her face clearly. She was beautiful but dead. I couldn't scream or breathe.

Taking a life was the ultimate orgasm. The heavy clumping of the woman’s platform shoes echoed through the garage as she trudged toward the elevator, her hard day finally drawing to an end. Weber surged quickly behind her, a shadow sprung from the shadows, his rubber-soled shoes making no sound on the smooth cement as he closed the distance between them. With a smooth, practiced motion, taught to him many years before by his Uncle Sam, his left arm clamped around her throat, shutting off her windpipe and any scream, while his right hand guided the knife up through her back into her heart. She slumped against him, dying without ever knowing he was there.

Shaun exclaimed, hand over her mouth. The door was partially blocked, and they discovered why when Jozef gave the door an extra hard shove. A dead woman lay face-down on the floor. The back of her head was such a mess of blood and bone that Shaun didn't bother to check for a pulse. Jozef rolled her over, and another shock revealed the woman as Giselle, a frequent customer of the club below and the woman who had pined after Jozef. Shaun felt a wave of pity for the woman, erasing any negative feelings she'd had toward Giselle's jealous, petty nature. She'd been too young, too vivacious to die this horribly on the floor of an apartment.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Officer Will took the call with sorrow. Grim Marie had taken her own life. She was found in the bath with expensive-smelling bubbles and a candle. She had used a razor. He wished this hadn’t surprised him. His heart felt heavy, but he tried to convince himself that at least she was at peace now, enfolded in the arms of her mother and her daughter. A third little urn lined up on the shelf, perhaps. At least the pain and misery of her hunt for The Wolf was over.