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“You thrive on deceit and trickery. You delight in fooling others.”

“And what about death?”

“Death is a natural part of life. It can be a mercy.”

“It can also be a cruelty, can’t it?”

Laine on the ground. Blood staining the snow. Her frightened eyes.

I grit my teeth, frustrated that he has brought back the memory, that he seems to know how much I loathe this work, how much it runs in direct opposition to who I wanted to be. But he just breaks our stare and sips his drink.

“My point is that it doesn’t matter, does it?” he continues. “If Raven commands you to take a life, you’ll do it without question. So do we all. So don’t sit there and pretend I’m the villain.”

“I don’t have to pretend,” I reply. “You reward wickedness and thrill in tricking others. Everyone calls you a scoundrel, just like your god.”

“Perhaps I’m just misunderstood,” he says mildly.

“Or perhaps they aren’t fond of all your lying,” I counter.

He laughs. “Don’t waste so much time hating me, ma fleur. Lies and Death are intertwined for all eternity. You know what that means, don’t you?”

I glare at him. “What?”

“We’re going to be together for a long time.” He raises his glass to me. “So we might as well enjoy each other’s company.”

As I open my mouth, a figure appears at the top of the stairs, and I halt in my retort, thinking for a moment that Terran has finally arrived.

But it’s not my Regent. It’s a figure clad all in black, a third eye in the center of her forehead now scanning the room. The other Harbingers in the room now notice her presence, and they instinctively shy away from the newcomer as she moves in my direction.

One of Raven’s messengers.

I frown, confused. Never have I received another mission so soon after completing one—and yet, here is the messenger with a black envelope in her hand, its glossy surface gleaming in the dim light.

The messenger gives me a quick little bow before holding out the letter. There are no visible wings on her back, but I can see the silhouette of them stretching in her shadow against the floor.

I exchange a look with Étienne before taking it. “What’s this?” I murmur. The envelope is thick and matted this time, weighted, different from what I’m used to.

The messenger bows again. “Harbinger, you have been summoned.”

I run my finger under the flap and break the seal.

Miss Rose Lin Fairchild,

Your presence is requested at the estate of your patron god tomorrow night.

I stare for a moment longer at the elegant handwriting, my heart thudding against my ribs. Since I began working for him, Raven has never, not once, summoned me to his estate.

“Did he say why?” I ask the angel.

“Yes, miss,” she says with a nod. “It is a meeting of the gods, and you are required to attend.”

I frown at her, trying to understand. “Why? For what?”

“Your Regent, Terran Harmont, is dead. Your patron god has tapped you to replace him.”

IF YOU WERE passing through Prospect Park in Brooklyn on that rainy afternoon, you might have noticed her for a fleeting moment.

This was five years ago, the day the girl named Rose first met the girl named Laine.