Page 56 of The Prince of Demons

“Your school curriculum seems to think otherwise.”

He wasn’t wrong. Every mention of demons beyond the veil painted them in the same negative light. Even Reaper’s mention, though brief, cast him in antagonistic gloom.

“Well…” I stopped, unsure what to say next. “It could use some revising.”

Between Gaksi and Reaper, if I left them alone, they left me alone. Neither was so inclined to murder me for my mere existence, as opposed to what I once believed.

“Truth of the day: what’s your strongest memory of taking a soul to the other side?”

He flicked his wrist, and the ghost disappeared. “You’ve put some thought into this question.”

“Yes,” I said. Unflinching.

He stole a vulnerable admission from my last truth, and it was time to repay the favor.

I searched every corner of the library. Internet. Asked every historian and professor. All archives of his existence were destroyed. I knew they once existed because they were in the library catalog, but as soon as I went to retrieve them, they were nowhere to be found.

Was it the gumiho that stole the information? Unfortunately, there was nothing about that creature either.

So if I wanted information from him, it must come from the source.

Dark helixes entwined Reaper’s hands. He looked away. “The first soul I carried over will always haunt me. I was young and foolish enough to approach her before death. I held her hand until she died and then brought her over.”

Hand holding? Did he care for her?

“Why did you approach her before?”

He grimaced.

“Because I knew she was going to die.”

He pulled a red cloth out of his pocket. “Every upcoming death is listed in here.” He waved it at me, a man tempting a bull.

“Why don’t you prevent them?”

“I can’t. It is impossible. I am the Reaper, not fate.” A solemn look crossed his face.

The one I’d learned to recognize. It meant he was going to fire back with a different question for me.

“You owe me two truths today if we’re doing an equivalent exchange of favors,” Reaper said.

“Or,” he held out his hand, “let me take you on a… dare.”

“Dare?” He remembered what I said last time.

“Yes, dare. Truth or Dare, Luna?”

My hand locked in his. The practical part of me wanted him to keep talking. The dark shadows within me screamed with anticipation, craving an adventure. He pushed lightly in with his thumb, moving in light, maddening circles.

“Dare.”

We vanished.

* * *

Reaper releasedmy hand in a wasteland that was colder, older, and more devoid of color than any place I’d seen before.

Broken, dead trees surrounded us, covered in so many cobwebs they resembled snow. Empty birds’ nests dotted grey, ashy trees and jagged branches cut into the sky.

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