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I was contemplating lifting her onto the table and sinking myself into her, and she looked as if she were contemplating my death.
“I am born of anguish, hate, pride, torment, wrath, envy, lust, greed, and sorrow. I am born of the suffering of the souls and of the necessity to replace a leader who had fallen.
“Oh, God,” I panted and moved further away. A sardonic smile curved his mouth. “God most certainly isn’t here. Something you should be grateful for, considering what I anticipate doing to you. And all of it will be wickedly sinful.”
The first seal of Hell had been broken. The dead now walked the earth.
“And if I’d been with dozens or thousands upon thousands of others like I’m sure you have, would it make a difference? Would you still want me?” “Yes,” I answered honestly. “It would not matter to me, because I will be your last.”
“Nothing will harm you while I live. Do not doubt that.”
The marks on my neck were fading, and the more they did, the more freaked I became over the knowledge they would one day be gone for good. The realization robbed my breath from me and caused my chest to clench so fiercely I couldn’t draw a new breath. I needed those marks back. I wanted to feel loved and cherished, even if it was in the demon way that could result in human head removal.
