Sixth Grave on the Edge - Page 53/100

He lifted an acquiescent shoulder. “If I give you back the dagger, you have to do something for me.”

“And what would that be?”

“You have to let me be a part of this. A part of the fall of Satan.”

Sounded easy enough. “Look. You seem to know a lot about all of this. It’s been kind of like hands-on training for me. I just … what am I supposed to be doing? Reyes wants me to figure it out as I go, but—”

“Rey’aziel is afraid of you,” he said. “That’s why he doesn’t want you to know everything. That’s why he wants to put off your knowing everything as long as he can.”

I snorted. “He’s not afraid of anyone.”

“You’re not just anyone. You’re not even just a reaper. Your heritage is proof of that.”

“Fine. I get it.” I really didn’t, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. I had every intention of diving into my past, of digging up every ounce of my heritage I could get my hands on. If it existed. Garrett was looking into the prophecies, but I wanted to know more, and I knew how to get it. I was going to blackmail my nigh fiancé. If he wanted my hand, he had a lot of explaining to do. And while this kid seemed to know a great deal, I just didn’t know if I could trust him or anything he told me.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. “Ask him what your name is.”

“Speaking of which, your name is?” I reminded him.

His expression impassive, he said, “You can ask Rey’aziel that as well.”

This was getting me nowhere fast. “You know, between Reyes’s cryptic answers, that Cleo guy’s ambiguous prophecies that Swopes is looking into, and your mysterious quips, I’ve had about enough of the lot of you. Can you just give me one straight answer?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

I didn’t miss the fact that his response guaranteed absolutely nothing. “Wonderful. Okay, what am I dying to know?” I looked up in thought, then said, “Some … entities have suggested that Reyes was sent to this plane for me specifically. To kill me specifically. Is that true?”

“It is.”

My chest contracted instantly. He could give a straight answer, as disturbing as that answer was. “He told me he was sent for a portal to heaven. That his father wanted a way into heaven.”

“He lied.”

The room grew hotter. I ignored it. “He told me you were the ultimate liar. That you were so good at it, even demons would fall for anything you had to say.”

“True. But look at it this way: Why would the prince’s father want a way into the very place that could destroy him?”

He had me there. “I don’t know. To take it over?”

The Dealer chuckled. “The odds of Lucifer taking over heaven are astronomical. You’ve seen eighteen-wheelers on the highway, right?”

“Of course.”

“If it hits a mosquito, what do you think the odds are the mosquito will crush the truck?”

“Astronomical.”

“Exactly.”

“So, are you telling me Satan is no threat to heaven?”

A soft laugh rumbled out of him again. “Honestly, it’s like talking to a child.”

I felt the same way. I stood and started for the door. He followed me. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just surprised, not only at how little you know, but how much of what you know is so impossibly wrong.”

“Then how about you help me understand?”

“I can try. What else would you like to know?”

“Okay, if what you say is true, why would he want me? Satan? If not for access to heaven?”

“Rey’aziel has kept a lot from you. I’m surprised, considering we have the same agenda.”

“What would that be?”

“Like I said before, to take him down. To end him once and for all.”

“And you think I can do that?”

“No. I don’t. I only know that you are a key player. Somehow, someway, you are the key to it all, and Lucifer knows that. God, as humans like to call him, did what he said he would. He cast Lucifer and all like him from heaven. Now it’s just a game of souls. Like chess.”

“And humans are the pawns.”

“For Rey’aziel’s father, yes. Not for God. Comparing the two is like comparing the feelings a mother has for her child to those that a serial killer has for the same child.”

“But you don’t know what my role is exactly?”

“Sadly, I do not.”

“Okay, then, what did you mean by marking souls?”

Now he was looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Um, your job.”

“My job is to mark souls?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m a portal. I thought my job was to help people cross.”

“That’s only part of your job. You can see guilt, deception, maliciousness for a reason, Charlotte.”

“So, I mark them as liars or murderers or what?”

“You’ll know when the time comes.”

“But I don’t have the right to judge people. I’m pretty sure the Big Guy upstairs would be upset if I went around judging his flock.”

“You will not sentence the guilty. You simply filter their passage after death. You sift through them and prepare them for their final journeys. Think of yourself as one of those machines that sorts coins into the right slots, separating the quarters from the dimes.”