The blade touched Marco's throat just as he realized he was supposed to be dead.“Hold still,” the woman above him whispered. “I would hate to cut your head off twice.”Marco froze.He had several questions, beginning with why a woman was threatening to decapitate him and ending with how anyone could kill the same person twice.Unfortunately, the cold steel resting against his neck suggested that asking those questions in the wrong order might shorten his remaining lifespan.Slowly, he opened his eyes.A blood-red moon stared down through a shattered ceiling, bathing the ruined chamber in an eerie crimson glow.Black candles floated above the floor without flames, their charred wicks trailing wisps of smoke. Beneath Marco's back lay a stone altar covered in glowing symbols, and the air smelled of burnt flesh, iron, and something unpleasantly sweet.Two women stood over him.They possessed the same silver hair, the same black horns curling backward from their temples, and the same unna

The voice inside Marco’s head sounded exactly like his own voice would have sounded if it had spent a thousand years buried beneath the earth.Move aside, little thief. You’ve been sitting in my body long enough.Marco’s blood turned cold, but he forced himself not to look beneath the altar. Whatever was trapped down there had already demonstrated that it could speak directly into his mind. He had no intention of giving it the satisfaction of watching him panic.Unfortunately, the two demonesses standing over him seemed determined to make that difficult.Davea raised her sword toward the ceiling, where cracks of crimson light spread across the ancient stone. Devana backed away from the altar, her golden eyes fixed on the symbols that were rapidly turning black.“Get away from him,” Devana ordered.Marco stared at her. “I would love to. Unfortunately, I seem to be lying on a table designed by someone who hated furniture and human comfort.”“Move, then!”“I would also love to do that, b

Marco had always believed that meeting his own double would be an unsettling experience. He had imagined awkward introductions, uncomfortable questions about their childhoods, and perhaps a few jokes about who had the better hairstyle.He had never imagined meeting his double while lying half-dead in a demon's basement, with a sword pointed at his chest and a magical corpse accusing him of breaking a seal.The stranger standing in the doorway wore Marco's borrowed face, down to the faint scar beneath his left eye. His dark coat hung loosely from his shoulders, and black veins crawled beneath his pale skin like ink spreading through water. Behind him, the darkness seemed to breathe.“You were supposed to stay dead,” the stranger repeated, staring directly at Marco. “Now you've broken the seal, and it knows where to find us.”Marco swallowed and glanced at Davea. “Just to clarify, when you said you killed the original owner of this body, you were referring to someone who might have know

Marco had discovered three important facts about his new life.First, death was apparently not a permanent condition.Second, making a deal with demons was considerably easier than convincing them to like him.And third, whenever he thought his situation could not possibly get worse, the universe treated that thought as a personal challenge.He stood beside the damaged altar while Devana examined the golden covenant mark on his wrist. Devana watched from a short distance away, her arms crossed over her chest and her expression suggesting that she regretted every decision that had allowed him to remain alive.The strange heartbeat beneath the floor had stopped, but Marco could still feel its echo in his ribs.“Are we certain that thing is gone?” he asked, glancing toward the sealed doorway.“No,” Devana replied.Marco turned to her. “You could have pretended to think about the answer first.”“I could have, but lying would not make you safer.”“I'm beginning to appreciate your honesty.