My eyes sprang open, searching for the source of the blast, until I realized it was my own feelingless hand that’d squeezed the trigger. While we were entangled, Rosa must have coerced me to pull it from my holster.

  I winced, awaiting the burn of silver in this betrayal I never imagined. Except it never came.

  “What have you done!” Chekoketh thundered.

  Yes, the gun was in my grip. Yes, it had been fired. Only, Rosa’s hand was around mine, guiding its aim and helping me unwittingly pull the trigger that sent a silver bullet corkscrewing straight through the center of her chest. A blood flower blossomed there that reminded me of my own death. Her blouse was soaked in it.

  The gun clattered on the stone. Rosa’s body lurched, then fell into my arms. The Horsemen unleashed a deathly racket as they revolved around me. Their anger was a tangible presence as locusts slashed at my flesh, cutting me deep with Hellish ice.

  Rosa’s jaw stretched from a silent scream of unspeakable pain. Her eyes began glowing something fierce. Bright green energy cascaded outward from her, crashing upon the Horsemen like a wave upon the sandy shore. She stopped holding back and unleashed her power in full, letting it flow outward like the blood spreading around her breasts and back.

  Stone and wind battered the demons, stealing the very voice of Chekoketh himself despite his protests. I could hear him damning me as the storm focused around them—a mighty, horrible torrent. Then, after a few chaotic moments, it waned, and the glittering stars of a peaceful night were all that remained around me and a dying Rosa.

  Lowering her to the floor, I cradled her head. The last of her power fled in a whisper from her mouth. With a short, sudden breath, her body went limp.

  “Rosa,” I whispered. “Rosa, no, no, no. What were you thinking? Rosa…”

  Of course, I knew the answer. She’d played the game of the trickster demon and won. She’d taken control of her own fate, unwilling to play the role of pawn for anybody else. And yet, all I could do was wonder if I’d been conned as well. If that last kiss had been anything more than a distraction.

  Like it mattered. I cursed myself inwardly. She’d sacrifice herself to take her chess piece off the board, and I was pouting like a schoolboy with a crush?

  “Goddammit!” I punched the stone floor so hard, an icy chunk broke off. “Is this what you wanted!” I screamed at the sky.

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  Nobody answered.

  No one ever answered.

  Blood simply pooled around me, on my boots and sleeves. It never stopped.

  “James Crowley, I know you’re up there!”

  I growled. Of all the times to hear his filthy fucking voice, there he was just as Chekoketh promised he’d deliver—Ace Ryker. By God, he’d picked the wrong night to face off against me.

  Turning to Rosa’s body, I ran my bare hand over her forehead. Suddenly, light burst from my eyes, my head snapped back, and the familiar disassociation of the Divining took hold…

  * * *

  A gunshot cracked.

  I looked out upon the world through a pair of eyes I’d hoped I never would. Not until she was old and gray and had lived a full life worth living.

  A shiver started in my chest and spread outward like cancer. There wasn’t pain, though it wasn’t peaceful either. It was almost like my—Rosa’s—entire self was unfolding. Energy siphoned from her core, exploding from her fingertips. Ancient, ghostly power from which even Hell’s Horsemen fled.

  She didn’t focus on any of it. Only on my eyes.

  Rosa started to think aloud. I’d seen the deaths of so many people through the curse of Divining, but this was different. The thoughts were so distinct, so pure, it was almost like knew this would happen, like she was talking to me from the grave itself.

  “Mi mamá always told me it doesn’t hurt when you die. I was so young when she got sick, and I’d bring her water and food, and I’d ask her how she felt. She never acted scared, and so I never thought I’d lose her. Until I did.

  “I’m happy to know now she was right. It doesn’t hurt at all. Maybe it’s because of what I am… I don’t know. I know I should be terrified of where I’m going, but Mamá taught me to be strong. Heaven, Hell, I don’t care. Even knowing it’s all real, my time here with her, and Willy, and you — I wouldn’t trade it.

  “I hope you know I meant it when I kissed you. I’m sorry it had to be that way, but things can be real, even if they’re also false, can’t they? I still remember the day you became my hero. It’s a nice memory, though I’m happier to have known the real man, with all your shades of gray. My love. My outlaw. My James.”

  Freezing tears ran down Rosa’s cheeks, like veins of ice in stone.

  “Finish what I started…”

  * * *

  I snapped out of it, my entire body quivering from how cold she’d grown from expelling her power within Hell’s blizzard. I brushed my cheeks, feeling the remnant memory of tears there, though there were none. Only her blood on my fingers smeared across my skin.

  “You could have told me,” I whispered, holding her close. Though I knew why she didn’t. It wasn’t in my nature to stop fighting. It was up to her to simply end the fight for good. Victory ain’t always sweet.

  “Oh, Crowley, come out and play!” Ace’s voice carried on the still air and broke the deathly silence.

  I carefully closed Rosa’s eyelids and scratched away the frosted tears from her face. Then, one last time, I beheld the woman who’d bewitched both Heaven and Hell and all those in between. She seemed at peace, so to speak. Content.

  But I wasn’t.

  “You did your part,” I told her. “I’ll finish the job.”

  I rose, strode over to the hatch, and went to meet my maker.