Sera's POV
I'm eating my favorite chocolate when I realize I can't taste it anymore.
The morning after fighting Kael Draven, I sit at my desk in the District Attorney's office, ribs screaming from where he threw me through a wall, and chew chocolate that might as well be cardboard. No sweetness. No flavor. Just texture and emptiness.
My hands start shaking.
It's happening faster than expected, Azrael's voice whispers in my mind. The transformation. You're becoming less human with each hunt.
"How long until there's nothing left?" I whisper, pretending to read case files.
That depends on you. Fight it, and maybe you keep your humanity for a few more years. Embrace it, and—
"Ms. Valentine?" My assistant pokes her head in. "Detective Cross is here to see you."
Maya Cross walks in looking tired and angry, which is her normal look. She's been a cop for twenty years and has seen every kind of evil. When she figured out I was the Pale Judge three months ago, she didn't arrest me. She helped me.
Because Maya knows the system is broken. And sometimes monsters need hunting.
"Close the door," Maya says.
I do. My ribs protest with every movement.
"You look like hell," Maya observes, sitting down. "Let me guess—Kael Draven?"
"How did you—"
"Marcus Draven is in a psychiatric hospital with a completely shattered mind. His penthouse looks like a bomb went off. And Kael Draven is calling in every favor he has to find whoever did it." Maya leans forward. "Sera, do you have any idea what you've done?"
"I punished a criminal who sold cursed objects that killed people."
"You broke the mind of a billionaire's brother!" Maya's voice rises. "Kael Draven owns half this city. He has connections to people I can't even investigate. And now he's hunting you."
"I can handle him."
"Can you?" Maya pulls out her phone and shows me a photo. It's Kael Draven from a society page—handsome, smiling, looking completely human. "I've been digging into him all night. Sera, Kael Draven is three hundred years old. He's half-demon. Pure demon father, human mother. He's survived wars, plagues, and things that would kill normal demons."
Three hundred years. The number sits in my stomach like a stone.
"And you're six months old in the supernatural world," Maya continues. "You're powerful, yes. But you're a baby compared to him. If he finds you—"
"Then I'll fight him again."
"You barely survived the first time!" Maya stands, pacing. "Listen to me. Kael Draven has spent three centuries controlling his demon nature. He starves himself to stay moral. But you just destroyed his baby brother. You've given him a reason to let the monster out."
I think about those red eyes. That darkness shaped like a man. The way power radiated from him like heat from a fire.
"I saw his soul," I say quietly. "Or what passes for one in demons. It was dark, but not evil. Not like his brother's."
"That's the problem." Maya sits back down. "He's not evil, Sera. He's just really, really dangerous. And now he's dangerous with a purpose."
My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number: "I know where you work. I know where you live. I know what coffee you drink every morning. You have 71 hours to leave the city. - KD"
Kael Draven. He found me already.
Maya sees my face. "What?"
I show her. She curses.
"Pack a bag. Leave town. Take a vacation. Let this cool down."
"I can't." I stand, ignoring my screaming ribs. "I have fourteen years to clean up this city. I'm not wasting time running from one angry demon."
"Then you're going to die." Maya grabs my arm. "And I've lost too many good people already. Don't make me lose you too."
Her words hit harder than Kael's fists. Maya doesn't do sentiment. If she's scared for me, things are bad.
"I'll be careful," I promise.
"Careful doesn't stop demons, Sera."
After Maya leaves, I spend the morning researching Kael Draven. Corporate records. Charity events. Business dealings. On paper, he's perfect—a genius CEO who donates millions to hospitals and schools.
But between the lines, I see the truth. Draven Industries has connections to every major supernatural organization in North America. Kael is powerful not just because of his demon blood, but because he's built an empire over three centuries.
And I just made an enemy of him.
Good, Azrael purrs in my mind. You need a real challenge. Marcus was practice. Kael is the test.
"Test for what?"
To see if you're worthy of the power I gave you. To see if you can handle what's coming.
"What's coming?"
Azrael doesn't answer.
At lunch, I try to eat a sandwich. Still no taste. I go to the bathroom and stare at my reflection. My eyes flash silver, then return to normal. But something else is different. My skin is paler. My features are sharper. More angular. Less human.
I'm changing. Transforming into something else.
I pull out my phone and text Maya: "What happens to humans who make deals with devils? What do they become?"
Her response is immediate: "Nothing good. Why?"
Before I can answer, someone knocks on the bathroom door.
"Occupied!" I call out.
The knock comes again. Harder.
"I said—"
The door explodes inward.
Kael Draven stands in the doorway of the women's bathroom, his red eyes burning, power crackling around him like electricity.
"Hello, Pale Judge," he says softly. "We need to talk."
People are screaming in the hallway. Alarms are going off. But Kael doesn't move. Just stands there, blocking the only exit, looking at me with those terrible eyes.
"You have some nerve coming to my workplace," I say, my own eyes flashing silver.
"You destroyed my brother in his home." Kael takes a step forward. "Seems fair."
"I didn't destroy him. I gave him justice."
"You gave him eternal torture." Another step. The temperature drops. "That's not justice. That's revenge."
"Sometimes they're the same thing."
We're five feet apart now. Close enough to fight. Close enough to kill.
"I'm going to give you one chance," Kael says. "Tell me how to fix Marcus. Reverse what you did. And I'll let you live."
"I can't reverse it."
"Can't or won't?"
"Does it matter?"
His hand shoots out, grabbing my throat. Not squeezing—yet. Just holding. His skin is burning hot against mine.
"It matters to me," he growls. "Marcus is all the family I have. And you took him from me."
"Your brother was a monster—"
"HE WAS MINE!" The roar shakes the walls. Kael's eyes fully blacken now, his demon form pushing through. "You don't get to decide who lives or dies! You don't get to play God!"
"Neither do you!" I grab his wrist, my silver power flaring against his red darkness. "You protected a killer! That makes you guilty too!"
We're both glowing now—silver and red mixing, creating purple lightning that cracks the mirrors around us. Security will be here any second. Police. Witnesses.
But neither of us backs down.
"Last chance," Kael whispers, his face inches from mine. "Fix him."
"I. Can't."
His grip tightens. I can't breathe. My vision starts to blur.
Then Kael does something unexpected.
He lets go.
"This isn't over," he says, stepping back. "But I'm not going to kill you here. Too many witnesses. Too many questions." He straightens his suit, the demon fading back. "You have until midnight tomorrow. Then I'm coming for you. And I won't be holding back."
He turns to leave, then pauses.
"One more thing." Kael looks back at me. "Your devil friend Azrael? He contacted me last night. Offered me a deal—help him with something, and he'd restore Marcus's mind."
My blood runs cold. "What did you say?"
"I said I'd think about it." Kael's smile is all teeth. "So now we both have something the other wants. Me with Azrael's offer. You with your righteous mission. Let's see who breaks first."
He walks out, leaving me shaking in the destroyed bathroom.
I look at my reflection in the broken mirrors. A dozen Seras stare back, all with silver eyes, all looking less human than before.
My phone buzzes. A text from Azrael: "See? I told you Kael would be interesting. Now here's the real fun part—only one of you gets to walk away from this. The other becomes mine forever. Choose wisely, little hunter. - A"
Below it, a photo attachment.
I open it with trembling hands.
It's a picture of me and Kael, taken just now in the bathroom. But we're not fighting in the photo.
We're standing close, staring at each other, and in the image, our powers—silver and red—aren't clashing.
They're intertwining. Merging. Becoming something new.
Something impossible.
A final text: "You're not enemies. You're soulmates. And that's going to make killing each other SO much harder. Enjoy! - A"