Page 79 of Beneath Her Skin

She goes completely still, the knife dropping from her hand and clattering onto the tile floor. Her eyes widen withan emotion I can’t identify—shock, horror, or admiration? I suppose I need to see this for myself to form a clearer picture.

“Holy shit,” Riley breathes.

I poke my head around Riley to get a view of what she’s so mesmerized with, and when I do, bile rushes into my throat so fast that I’m emptying the contents in my stomach within mere seconds.

“Oh no, that one’s sick.” I glance up at the mystery woman dressed in black, with candy cane-colored hair.

She sits in the red leather armchair, one leg draped over the other, blood splattered across her pale skin. A scythe rests lazily across her lap, its wicked curve still slick with crimson. The room around her is something ripped straight from a horror film. Blood isn’t just pooled on the floor—it’s everywhere. It drips from the ceiling, streaks the walls, lingers in the air. Each breath is thick with its powerful, metallic tang.

Opposite her, slumped in another chair, is Maria—or what’s left of her.A cigarette dangles between stiff, bloodied fingers, the ash trailing long and untouched. Her jaw gapes wide, stuffed to the brim with cigarettes. Burn marks and deep gashes mar her skin, branding her in agony even in death. Where her eyes should be, more cigarettes smolder, smoke curling from her empty sockets. The scent of scorched flesh hits me, and bile rises again in my throat, but I swallow it back.

A massive, jagged laceration splits her open from her right collarbone down to her groin, exposing glistening, ruined flesh.

The woman in the chair exhales, almost bored, dragging a finger through a bloodstain on her arm. “I tried to tell her smoking was bad for her,” she muses, her voice smooth, almost amused. “She wouldn’t listen. And, well, she was terribly rude. So, I decided to show her just how bad it could be.” She lifts her gaze, offering a slow, satisfied smile. “Then I sent her soul to Hell for all eternity.”

She stands, gore dripping from the tip of her scythe. Riley bends down, helping me stand. I lean against her, my knees trembling and weak. The demon woman points her weapon to the far corner of the room. “This one reeked of pure filth. I hate the stench of beer and cigarettes, it’s really a trigger of mine,” she offers with a half-shrug and a smirk.

Eric’s severed head replaces the lampshade, his hollow eye sockets glowing from the exposed light bulb embedded in the torn flesh of his neck. Shattered beer bottles litter the floor around him, the rest of his body propped up against the pole of the lamp. Broken beer bottles plunged into various parts of his body, the tinted bottles full of his blood.

She spins, facing us now, with an excited smile. “Well, what do you both think?”

Riley reaches up to scratch her head. “Um, so does this count as the two we were supposed to kill or…”

All I can do is stare wide-eyed at the reaper before us, careful to avoid looking at the macabre scene of horrors. Yet, I don’t want to offend her in any way. After seeing what this chick is capable of, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of her ire.

She laughs, holding her scythe out as it disappears into thin air. She dusts her hands clean of the weapon with satisfaction swimming in her icy blue eyes. “No, those were my kills. My gift to the both of you for so graciously offering up your souls to me, and ultimately to Master.”

Riley scoffs, arms crossed tightly. “So, how exactly are we supposed to explain this to the cops? I mean, yeah, their deaths were inevitable, but we’re kind of screwed now, Sable.”

I swallow hard.This is Sable—the one who saved me. But for the love of god, do not piss off the crazy demon woman with a scythe who just brutally murdered our foster parents, Riley.

Sable purses her lips, tapping her chin in mock contemplation. Then, with a sudden gleam in her eye, she snaps her fingers. “Ah-ha! Easy.”

Flames erupt around the bodies, consuming them in an instant. The corpses, the blood, every trace of their existence—gone, swallowed by fire. The air crackles with residual heat as Sable claps her hands together, flashing a wicked grin.

“Now, about those kills of yours. We should get moving—time’s ticking.”

Riley doesn’t budge. Her jaw tightens as she glares at Sable. “Wait. Explain the rest of this bargain. What happens after we give you two souls?”

Sable appears before us, and I stumble back in alarm. Her head snaps in my direction, and she reaches out to steady me.Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t kill me.

But instead of striking, she gently cups my cheek. “Don’t be afraid. You both remind me of different parts of myself.” Her gaze softens as she turns to Riley, caressing her face the same way. “You are the fire—the relentless hunger for vengeance, the will to protect what’s yours at any cost. And you,” she murmurs, looking back at me, “are the innocence I lost, the purity that once lived in my soul. I want to give you power so no one can ever make you feel weak again.”

Riley lifts a brow. “And how do we get this power?”

Sable steps back, a knowing smile on her lips. “Two souls, taken by your own hands. Then, he will decide the rest.” Her nose wrinkles as she glances at Riley’s feet. With a snap of her fingers, a fresh pair of black combat boots replace the ones lost in the fire. Riley gasps.

“There,” Sable giggles. “Much better.”

I see the tears well up in Riley’s eyes. Those boots meant more to her than just footwear—simple as it may seem. We never had much to call our own, and losing them had been a deeperwound than she let on. I lean my head against her shoulder, feeling the way she takes a slow, steady breath.

“Thank you,” she exhales before lifting her gaze to Sable. “Also… who is ‘he’?”

“The Devil, of course.” Sable flicks her wrist, and a wall of fire erupts in the center of the living room. Flames twist and curl, casting eerie shadows across the walls. “Are you ready to dance with destiny?”

Riley and I exchange a glance, our fingers interlocking as we brace ourselves. A sharp inhale, a silent understanding. Then, a nod.

“Lead the way.”

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