“—All I’m saying is that Killian Entrail is a fucking large ass man,” Vera explained. “Imagine his poor wife… and the kids, oh god, the kids, must’ve tore her apart to birth them! Snow, are you listening to me? Snow?”

  Death was butt-naked in the pond, scrubbing himself free of all stenches with a rag on the end of a stick. Snow was admiring his toned muscle, the curves of his traps when he did certain motions, the flex of his bicep whenever he reached behind his back.

  “Oh, that is big,” Vera whimpered. “You wouldn't think it was like that just by looking at him.”

  Snow smacked her, then apologised. “Wow,” Vera laughed. “I didn’t know you were so fucking territorial over his dick and balls.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t like it when people look at him the way I do.”

  “Do not stare at me.” Death scared them both as he stood only a metre away, the sun casting a three-legged shadow onto them. “I am not to be examined like I am for sale.”

  “Snow was telling me before that you can’t get hard,” Vera said. “Must be sad not being able to spring to life when you see pretty women and their breasts.”

  “I am very much able,” he snarled. “I do not believe in pleasure. Sex is for heirs. I do not want an heir, not while I am powerless.”

  Vera bit her lip and removed her ribbons, rubbing her face up against Snow’s with moans and purrs. “Don’t believe in pleasure, huh?” she whispered. “How about… this?”

  Snow froze and blushed as Vera put her hand under Snow’s rag and squeezed her breast. She removed Snow’s shirt and made her squeal in shyness. “What are you doing?” she yelped. “Vera! You can’t just do that to me!”

  She mounted Snow and pinned her hands to the grass. “Do you feel how warm I am down there?” she said to Snow. “I could take your pants off and we could fuck instead, leave that edgy loser to sit and watch while I show you how you deserve to be treated.”

  “I—I—wha—Death! Help me!”

  “What do you expect me to do?” He stood watching with a blank expression. He was unimpressed, his cock not growing at all. “Be wary with your hands, Vera,” he warned. “Snow ordered me to kill any man who lays too much hand on her.”

  “I’m not a man,” Vera moaned. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll stop, you cute little thing… but I don’t think you want me to… your heart rate is elevated, triple your resting, I can hear it—your mind, racing with thoughts of me.”

  Snow closed her eyes and blushed. With one hand, Vera fondled Snow’s breast, with the other, she pinned both wrists to the grass above her head.

  “Deep breaths, Nice and slow.” She licked her way up to her breast and sucked on a nipple, then progressed into lightly kissing her neck, biting the parts that made her squirm under the weight of her thighs. “Do you like that?” she breathed in Snow’s ear. “Soft and loving, like a blade against delicate skin… don’t my lips feel nice on your cheek? The catch of my fangs against your flesh, tell me you love it and you want more.”

  “I don’t like it!” Snow lied. “I swear I don’t!”

  “Oh yeah? I have the nose of a fox, sweetheart, I can smell how wet you are, how your body is releasing sweat to attract me to you even more… you want to be fucked by me, admit it, we can do it now, me and you, my strange gifts only apply to the orgasms of men, we can see how deep my tongue can reach inside you. I’ll find every part of you that makes you shiver.”

  “I can’t!” Snow yelled. “I’m saving myself for Death!”

  “Your little girlfriend is so soft, Death.” Vera rested her head on Snow’s breast and looked at him. “You hear that? The girl’s saving her first time for you… why don’t you come and fuck us both, have a—seriously? You’re still limp? Two girls this close right in front of you and not even a little interest?”

  “I don’t lie,” Death repeated flatly. “When the time comes, I will give an heir to someone suitable, and as per my commands, this must be Snow—I will mould her into the perfect vessel, a perfect magical body to birth my heir and mother him into godhood.”

  “And what about me?” Vera pouted. “Don’t I get to be part of your little fuck-club?”

  “You are not a suitable host for my heir.”

  “But am I fuckable?”

  “I imagine all women are fuckable,” he sighed. “But I can see in your hideously aroused eyes that you mean something different.”

  “I’m asking if you would fuck me and Snow at the same time after you’ve had your little heir and realise pleasure is good.”

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  “Even if fate willed my cock to be rock-solid at your flatness, you give pain instead of pleasure as your gift to men, do you not?”

  “I think it would be negated if the man fucking had a power stronger than mine.”

  Snow stared at Death, giving a subtle nod.

  Really? he thought. She wants me to answer yes to a scenario that will never come to pass? I must give the answer, I do not want her to command me to say it.

  “If Snow wanted it,” he forced. “But I will never engage in such pleasure simply out of my own urges.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Vera gave Snow a kiss on the cheek, twirling a strand of her hair. “You’re a cute one… I like your little whimpers, I’ll bring them out of you one day, be patient for me.”

  “Enough, I’m not some personal guard to mind you both,” Death said, putting on his wet robes. “I am clean, the clothes are damp but acceptable—give me this book about the Valan family tree and let us see what secrets are hidden in the ink.”

  Vera dismounted Snow with a wink. Snow scrambled for her shirt and put it back on, covering her embarrassment with her hands.

  Vera approached Death with her tits still on show, giving him the book with a flirty bite of her lips before flicking her wrist and summoning her clothes. “Nothing gets you going, does it? What if you think about the slaughter happening underneath that abandoned shack over there, don’t you feel fucking anything? Arousal? Bodies of dead man and drowning souls… ooo… doesn’t that seem hot?”

  “I do not get aroused by corpses.”

  “Not sure if I believe that.”

  What an odd woman, Death thought. This had better be a one-time occurrence. I already hate dealing with one aroused monkey, two would surely be a challenge. “You both have issues,” he said, sitting with the book. They swarmed him, each taking a shoulder to rest their heads on and read with him. He allowed it, only because he thought the heat from their bodies would dry him faster. “Either of you touch me and I will break your kneecaps. I am reading and theorising, you are to observe only. Speak if you have any ideas that I may have overlooked, otherwise stay voiceless.”

  They both agreed.

  Death skimmed through the pages of Godwin Valan, Harren Valan, then ended on Stroke Valan—nothing was unordinary, the three shared a tragedy of their father and mother killed by an illness, but that was all he learned.

  “I see no reason for the exclusion of one brother,” he mumbled. “Logic says it was Stroke that ordered this… but why would he use his ‘childhood friend’ as a vessel. Even if she volunteered to die for him, the act was completely barbaric, no need to remove her arms, rip out her guts, eat her legs, peel back her scalp, all unnecessary for a ritual of death. This was done as a sport, an enjoyment, a perverted act done for the pleasure of a dark soul. Why this woman? Why was Killian Entrail so happy to crush her head? What did she do to earn such apathy?”

  He read Stroke’s page again, then flipped to Godwin’s.

  “It mentions Bianca was a childhood friend of Godwin,” Vera noticed. “There’s no mention of Stroke having one.”

  “Well spotted,” Death said. “Was the information not public? Or were even scribes ashamed to sign her name?”

  He thought harder, remembering the events of the Great Lizard Hall in detail. The words of Killian Entrail taunted his thoughts, then a nasty word hung heavy on his brain—rape.

  Rape, Death thought. The sin of sins, the woman was kidnapped and raped, that was the tip-off… why does this stick out to me? He whispered the word aloud a few times, earning a few judging stares from Vera and Snow until he explained it was stolen from Killian’s phrasing. “That word is specific, spoken with a conviction of sorts.”

  “I don’t understand,” Snow squeaked. “Pondering on the word doesn’t help us.”

  Death stared at the rippling of the water and saw the reflection of a tree, one that brought forth a quick memory of when Killian had tossed him through the window and into a field. Tiny footsteps, not the heavy-clad strides of a typical man. Small, frantic, plentiful, a woman cambion, terrified while fleeing. He explained his thoughts to them. “The act of a woman raping another woman is rare, but not impossible—man against woman is the standard, there must be two demon-blooded involved… this is not the rogue planning of angry, vengeful cambions seeking justice for the murder of Stroke’s chosen protector. It is planned, meticulous, perfectly plotted to kill several birds with one horrifying, ravenous stone.”

  “What if there’s more than two?”

  “That is a good theory, Snow, there is no way to tell the precise number. I see two possibilities: there is a cult of demon souls trying to get revenge, but not on the sibling who showed adoration for one of their kind… or Stroke Valan ordered them to do it, and they got far too carried away.”

  “Why would he wish to murder his own brothers?” Snow said. “Surely he loves his brothers more than a cambion.”

  “There is no evidence to make either theory solid. I would need to meet these siblings in person to assess their character.”

  “Are we solving mysteries now?” Vera teased. “Investigating the lands with our combined brainpower… I’m in.”

  “I do not wish to involve myself in these matters,” Death sighed. “But one of my soul trophies is kept by one of them.” He took the dried angel tear and sniffed it. “Smells repurposed, used before, this is a rare stone, they will return to get it. We should travel back to the town once we have slept to see if the culprits attempt retrieval.”

  “But what if we get caught?” Snow said.

  “Then I will kill whoever comes. I will keep watch, ensure that none slit your throats while you sleep.”

  “Oooo, such a big strong protector,” Vera said. “Oh yes, keep us safe Sir Death.”

  “I will let them cut yours if they come.”

  “So hostile…”

  Snow kissed his cheek and cosied up to him, resting her head on his thigh. Vera did the same on his other leg.

  I used to be taken seriously, Death thought. One day I will be seen as a conqueror again, all will fear me, and all that don’t will die a painful death.