While I was certain that my time had been better spent in creating a new way to harvest misery and souls … eventually, even with the Soul Token and FiendPay, I would have to do the reaping part.

It was just delaying the inevitable.

I would have to reap Jemma’s soul at the end of all of this.

I wondered if she’d gotten the donuts I’d had delivered. I wondered if she’d eaten them. More likely, she would have taken one look at my message and thrown them out.

“You know, it’s probably a good idea that you’re gonna reap that bastard!” Beezle remarked. “You wanna know you’ve got the whole thing down pat before you do it to Jemma Bliss.”

He’d always been good at guessing my thoughts.

“Indeed.” I clenched and unclenched sweaty palms and checked the entrance once more. Two of the staff at The Artful Bite were still having a long, heated discussion just inside the front door.

“Did you glean anything about her from your little trip into the bowels of Ratty-Man’s domain?”

“You mean Jemma Bliss?” Bub asked. I nodded.

Beezle woofed awkwardly. “Jeez, Boss, he really, really hates her!”

I swallowed back a growl, human nails digging into my palms. “What did he say?” The words grated out with barely concealed murderous intent.

Bub tilted his head in thought. “Pretty sure his exact words were …” he cleared his throat, and in a slightly nasal tone that was an excellent impression of Ratty-Man, said, ‘Never thought I’d see that fucking gullible bitch a—’ aarghghghg!”

“Boss!” Beezle gasped, and I blinked, releasing my grip on Bub’s throat and staggering back a step. Bub collapsed, panting.

“Nah, that was my fault, Beez. I shouldn’t’ve done the voice …” He glanced up at me, those red-ringed eyes seeing far more than I liked. “Ratty-Man really got on your last nerve, eh, Boss?”

“Something like that,” I muttered, turning away with a flex of my fingers. Finally, the moronic staff had exited the premises, and I could move.

Without a word, I stalked off across the street. My stomach was a riot of fluttering imp wings, but the fury sat, scorching hot and demanding its due, right in the centre of my chest.

The locked door was no match for me: a quick flick of my fingers, and it unlatched and flew open. I surged inside, the Hounds on my heels.

“Now, Boss, remember you need to seem human …” Beezle scuttled in front of me, slowing my progress. “And you need to be … like, maybe just a tad less menacing? I mean, nobody’s giving up their soul if you, I dunno, give away right off the bat that you’re jonesing to shove them in a torture pit for all eternity.”

I cricked my neck and inhaled a long, hopefully calming breath, forcing the scowl off my face. “Better?”