He looks amused and pissed at the same time—a look that only he can execute so flawlessly.

With his outrage slightly subdued, I continue. “Supposedly, I was a master in a former life, and somehow I triggered an echo of muscle memory. For the record, he was quite annoyed I couldn’t remember.”

They exchange a dubious look before facing me again.

“Then it couldn’t have been him who killed you,” Kai says.

“If Lucifer had killed you, you would have likely stayed dead,” Ezekiel goes on, like he’s trying to drill that thought into my head.

“Precisely,” I say in agreement, already coming to that conclusion since the adrenaline has started to fade.

“You’re agreeing?” Gage asks warily.

“For now, it seems unlikely Lucifer’s hands caused my demise. Especially given our weird encounter. He wanted me to win that sword fight. Toyed with me until he triggered my buried instincts with the blade. Whoever killed us didn’t kill us very well, since we’re standing here. And I might have seen it coming,” I tell them, holding up the journal.

Ezekiel takes it, his eyes skimming over it.

“I only know some of these languages,” he tells me.

“Better than me, since I only know one,” I grumble.

Gage takes it, studying the pages. “How’d you get this out of hell when you can’t carry things in your siphon?” he asks distractedly as he reads.

“Are we seriously fucking done with the topic of her going to make a deal with the Devil without our consent?” Jude snaps.

“I don’t need your consent,” I remind him with my favorite fuck-you grin that earns me a scowl before I turn back to Gage. “I’m assuming Lamar sent the journals here.”

“Or Lucifer,” Kai says quietly as he goes to read over Gage’s shoulder.

“What does it say?” I ask them.

“Roughly translated,” Gage says, his finger moving over the words as he traces them. “The final level always takes attempts in thrice. Move too fast or hesitate too long, and you always pay the boss man’s price.”

“As ominous as that sounds, it makes zero sense,” I decide to point out. “Maybe I was mad as well,” I add on a groan.

“This part is even weirder,” Gage goes on. “But it seems to have something to do with your current circumstance.”

I lean up, ready to listen.

“When lives are lost, you start from the beginning. You move through the obstacles with a sense of past failures instead of the feel of winning.”

“Yeah, no, that doesn’t really make sense either,” I say on a breath.

“The rest of this is in hieroglyphics on this page,” he says, flipping the pages.

“Just translate what you can into English for me. I’m going to go read more of our past lives in the meantime.”

“Why?” Kai calls out as I stand up.

Going phantom, I change my outfit to a long T-shirt I know will be more comfortable to lounge in.

“For one, you guys were way hotter back then,” I deadpan without turning around as I pick my cookie back up and head upstairs.

A few snorts follow that.

The truth is, I have questions about the past. Everyone looks equally innocent and guilty in our deaths. My questions stem from the fact no one is volunteering information about how we died. It’s irritating because I feel like I’m being coddled.

It sounds ridiculous and insane, so I don’t share it aloud. They’d just stare at me like I’ve lost more of my mind.

I still can’t shake the sinking feeling that things are about to get really complicated.

Chapter 3

“He gave us free access to the Hell’s Black Heart,” Kai states, parroting my words as he moves in closer to me on the bed, his lips brushing the column of my throat as I read about our lives as Vikings.

They sent Kai up here to get more answers since he’s still my current favorite. Manipulative devils.

“Yes,” I say absentmindedly, unable to stop reading about the scandal on the pages. “You know, we should paint my room purple, I think,” I add in a quiet murmur, still distracted as I make it sound like I’m attempting a conversation.

They were rather ruthless and brutal in this life too. And very possessive of me. Stole me right from my family’s poor home as payment for my “father’s” debt.

Then took out their payment on my body.

Over.

And over.

And over.

We’re simply a long collection of fucked up dark role players out in the real world.

They’re only referred to as their Horsemen selves in this book, instead of their Viking names.

Conquest loved sneaking in when the other three were off pillaging and plundering and doing whatever else needed to be done for them to be the proper villains.

“I think Jude was my first,” I tell him.

“No one is telling you who went first,” he’s quick to say.

“It’d make sense,” I proceed. “After all, he didn’t have any firsts yet, and there should be at least a little balance among you four.”

“Your ass was a first too,” he crudely points out. “And there was also your first three-way. And the first time you’ve been on top. And the first—”

“Never mind,” I grumble. “You’ve successfully stifled that entire argument.”

I feel his grin grow as I continue reading.

Conquest would take her, shoving her to her belly and holding her in place while he pushed into her body and subdued her fight. Her fingers clung to the bedding under her as she cried out in fear and guilty excitement.

Guilt could only be felt in mortal form, and it was a rather consuming emotion.

She felt guilty every time she enjoyed the wicked and terrible things they did to her.

“You have to stop reading that, or I’m going to take another turn before anyone else gets caught up to me,” Kai says on a threatening breath so close to my ear as he pulls open one of my thighs.

My breathing gets harder as I start reading aloud to him.

“Conquest wanted her the most in the beginning. The others took a bit longer. But he wanted her every chance he got, and took more than his share.”

He groans against my neck before moving between my legs, pushing the book out of my hands as his lips come down on mine, all of it happening in one swift motion.

My hands go to his hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands as he works the T-shirt up over my hips. I start kissing him harder when he reaches between us to undo his jeans.

In the very next instant, he’s ripped away from me, and my eyes blink open to see Ezekiel glaring at him as he shoves a laughing Kai against the wall.

Kai runs his hand over his lips, his eyes intently focused on me as Ezekiel gripes at him.

“Fucking really, Kai? We’re trying to get all the details of the deal she made. Not fuck her right now.”

Kai shrugs unapologetically, and I arch an eyebrow at him, wondering if he’s going to let Ezekiel just win this.

Kai smirks at me even as his eyes narrow. “The vixen is trying to tempt me.”

I’m the one to shrug unapologetically this time.

“You’re still my favorite,” I remind him. “No one else has done anything to earn the title, and only my current favorite gets to touch me…unless you all touch me at one time.”

I wiggle my eyebrows at them when they both simply stare at me.

“Don’t play games, Paca,” Ezekiel groans as Kai walks out, laughing quietly to himself as he goes.

“I’m apparently a child of the Devil. Games are just a part of my genetic makeup. I’d apologize, but I don’t have the ability to feel guilt,” I state dryly. “Now, were you my first? You seem a little territorial over my vagina right now.”

My gaze stays fixed on him as I wait very expectantly.

He just narrows his eyes at me.

“Can you tell us more about the deal?” he asks, trying to use a softer approach to coax me into sharing all the details yet again.

Going phantom, I let the book drop through me and zap myself to the bathroom doorway before the book ever hits the bed.

“I’m not spending what is possibly very limited time alive repeating myself on a loop,” I tell him dismissively.

He curses as I leave him behind, and I strain my hearing when I feel him siphon out of the room.

Turning on the shower, I zap myself downstairs, staying phantom and quiet as I eavesdrop on their conversation. I remain hidden in the billiard room beside Jude’s bedroom as the muffled voices get clearer.

“If it’s a trap, we’re dead,” Jude is saying.

It’s not a trap—if they’re discussing the deal, that is. The more I think about it, the more I trust it to be true. Lucifer could have simply killed me if he truly wanted me dead. Then again, I suppose he could be playing some sort of game…

I’ve read a lot about the Royals—myself included. Games really are a huge piece of our personalities, though there’s no decidedly logical explanation as to why. Lack of conscience? No true motivation to take things very seriously?

“True, but why bother trapping us when he knows exactly where we are?” Ezekiel asks, bringing me back to the eavesdropping I’m supposed to be doing.