There was a chance she was able to access some of Gabriel's magic. As the mate of a deity, she was supposed to have that ability. The only problem was that Gabriel wasn't able to access his own power consistently. The chance she could? Probably none.

The creature was staring at her with such longing, she stifled a tired laugh. He was clearly hungry.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Forever," he replied angrily.

"No, really."

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"In human time, perhaps a week. But time here is different. A month?"

"Could be a month or a second, depending," she mused, accustomed to the way time changed in the underworld. "Too long, either way."

"Long enough to know you have fallen from favor, cupcake." There was satisfaction in his voice.

"I'm not the one chained to a wall and left to starve," she shot back, irritated.

Another growl.

"Did I really disappear?" Past-Death rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

"Yes."

The idea was ridiculous, but humoring it, talking to the demon, kept her mind off the pain burrowing into her heart and her physical discomfort. The dream was solid in her mind. She was almost able to recall the feel of cool stone beneath her hands when she'd touched the dead end.

It was real enough. Then again, she'd been Death for thousands of years and had known every part of the palace at one point. How much was a dream, and how much was a memory resurfacing from wherever the Dark One had cast them?

Her thoughts returned to the two cells at the end of the corridor, and her frown deepened. The cells were aligned based on their ability to hold prisoners. Immortals and death dealers being punished for various reasons were kept in the cells nearest the entrance, those cells with the least amount of magic binding them. The cells at the end of the hallway contained the most powerful magic spells, capable of imprisoning full deities forever.

Behind doors made of colorful petrified wood, there were prisoners important enough for her to almost remember, even after having her memory wiped.

"Keep quiet, demon. I'm going to take a nap," she ordered.

"If you go again, bring me a snack. I'm starving," the demon added. "I'd settle for a child or really short person. I don't need a full meal."

"That's not going to happen."

He muttered under his breath.

Past-Death focused hard on imagining herself in the hallway once more. If she was able to leave the cell, she could find something equally as important: the soul she'd left Gabriel when she turned over the Underworld to him.




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