I reckon you can’t blow up a building downtown and start unloading bullets without causing a ruckus. The commotion of the city was left at my back. Shouting. Bells tolling. You name it.

  A raid to find a senator’s body was all it’d ever go down as in the history books. My name, nowhere to be found. Just a list of dead and the heroic deeds by Marshal Chapelwaite to uncover a dark truth. A footnote in a long line of tragedies in a city built on a swamp wherein man was never meant to live.

  A thick morning fog stewed around us—Timp and me. My chest stung with Heaven’s ire as she stepped out into the wilderness beyond the sprawl, hooves trudging through mud and muck.

  I won’t lie; it was bad. Almost like silver through the heart, causing me to involuntarily hunch over Timp’s back. But I fought it as we followed Rosa’s footsteps.

  Most men would lose the trail in the muggy swamplands, but in my days, I’d learned a thing or two about tracking from ranchers and my native amigos. Timp’s nostrils also flared a mile a minute. She knew Rosa’s scent.

  Injured as Timp was at Roo’s hands, she carried the same resolve I did. Vampires and werewolves be damned. Rosa could be in trouble.

  Timp whinnied, like she always did near cliffs. Heights made her uneasy, only, we weren’t high. I reckon the threat of falling and sinking had her worried.

  What I did next, I wouldn’t call a whinny, but it was a groan, at least. Shar’s call worsened, my chest feeling like someone poured hot coals down my shirt.

  The sound of my pained voice must’ve spooked Timp worse. Her hooves sank deeper and her pace slowed. Unbidden, my body lilted off to the left. There was a tug at my side, almost as if Heaven’s weighty judgment was being transferred through my lasso, pulling me down.

  Eventually, it grew too much to bear. Timp really started to panic. Her leg gave out, and she bumped into me. I fell into the supernatural pull—the last little bit needed to send me into the mud with a splash.

  “Timp, calm down!” I shouted with as much vigor as I could muster under the current circumstances.

  She bucked, hooves pounding mud, getting stuck, then unstuck.

  “Timp!”

  She bolted. I tried to rise and follow her, but couldn’t manage to get upright. So, I crawled, and little by little, my hands sank deeper until I couldn’t move. I found myself clinging to a thorn bush so as not to be consumed like it was quicksand.

  Timp’s noises faded. As I thrashed, I saw a faint orange light. Here in the fog and under the canopy of cypress and southern oaks, it was eternal twilight.

  Rosa and the drunkard were at an old campsite. And it looked like they weren’t alone either. Hard to see through the fog, but one of the silhouettes had something hanging from around their neck. A snake, maybe.

  Laveau…

  And I could guess the others would be Bram and Harker.

  I know, I said I was done mussing up Rosa’s life. That I’d be on my way. But things change after you meet the man who got Jesus nailed to a tree, then raid and slaughter the house of his child. Maybe… it was just me seeing her again. Easier to make claims about letting go when she wasn’t right there in my sights, very clearly up to no good.

  Waist-deep in mud, I dug into my pocket, and freed my shaving mirror. It was caked in gunk, but I flipped it open to a perfectly clean interior. Gone was the whitish wisp that was Shar’s earthly presence. Instead, she raged like a thunderstorm.

  “You have failed me for the last time, James Crowley!” her voice roared. I’d never heard such an authoritative tone from her before, and it had me concerned.

  The ground beneath my knees gave out and I plunged deeper. I dropped the mirror. Thorns dug through my gloves, tearing into skin as I tried to fight it. Was this her?

  “I haven’t,” I groaned.

  “Tourmaline is dead. Your plan is forfeit.”

  “She’s irrelevant,” I said.

  “No. You are.”

  “It amazes me that an all-seeing angel can be so fucking blind,” I snarled. Probably should’ve chosen my words more carefully. The mud rose to my chest, or rather, I guess I plummeted into it.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The idea I’d be submerged so deep beneath the swamp I’d once again be buried alive started to become clear. Angels sure have clever ways to keep you out of Hell.

  “You were right,” I said, starting to get frantic. “He’s here. The Betrayer.”

  Stillness. The ground stopped shifting beneath me. Clinging to the thorns until my gloves were shredded and my bloodless hands were gashed to pieces, I heaved myself up.

  “You cannot be trusted,” Shar said. “You will bend the truth into whatever shape suits you.”

  “I ain’t lying, Shar.” Then, knowing better than to push my luck, I added the last part of her name. “He came to me in the cathedral, cocky as a squirrel who’d found a nut. Knew you couldn’t see him. He wanted me to get rid of Tourmaline.”

  Now that gave her pause. “His own child?”

  “Some parents get sick of their kids. Heck, most do.”

  “Get to the point.”

  “He offered me freedom if I—”

  “You?” The storm in the mirror subsided, and there was the calm, judgmental Shar I’d come to know. “Centuries since the last Hand he stole from us, and he chooses you?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” I muttered.

  “On the contrary, I’m pleased. Scraping the bottom of the barrel. How far he’s fallen.”

  “So, it’s true, then? He converts Hands of God?” I asked.

  “If by ‘convert,’ you mean transform you into ravenous, bloodsucking abominations who pervert and destroy everything they touch, then yes.”

  “He seemed happy,” I dared say.

  “What more proof of their curse do you need than the mess you just crawled out of?”

  I scooped up Shar’s mirror and brought it closer to my face. Beyond it, the silhouettes of Rosa and those accompanying her stirred.

  “Look, I did what he asked. I gained his trust. I found a way to do your bidding, as always. He’s gonna approach me now that it’s done.”

  “Why did you not end him when you had the chance?”

  I shook my head, still splitting my attention between the mirror and Rosa. “I couldn’t. He had me surrounded by his ilk.”

  “You kept all of this from me,” she said. “From the Almighty and from the White Throne. Now, you expect me to believe anything you have to say?”

  “I’m an honest man,” I said. “Lincoln’s got nothing on me.”

  “No.” Her form swirled within the glass. “Your service rendered to the White Throne is completed, Crowley. It is time you meet the fate you deserve.”

  I lost any semblance of composure I still held. “I’m sorry, Shargrafein! I did what you asked! I’m sorry if you—”

  “Everyone’s sorry on judgment day.”

  From the direction of the campsite, fire flared on the ground, painting Rosa’s form in clear shadow. Only this one wasn’t natural—it was green—which could mean only one thing.

  “You did all of this for her,” Shar said. “To feed your juvenile infatuation. Fine things have been laid upon your table, but you’ve become determined to grasp only for the things you can’t reach.”

  “That ain’t true.”

  “You would sacrifice everything to become the Betrayer’s pawn for her. So that you can sit at her side for the rest of her mortal life, until she’s shriveled and old and destined for Hell. For where else do you think a sinner shall go?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Shar’s gleeful guffaw could have sent a shiver up my spine if I felt shivers. “I promise, she has sinned in more ways than you can imagine.”

  “I don’t give two shits about her breaking the words in your boss’s big book! I meant no. You ain’t right. I don’t deserve her. No way. Willy probably didn’t neither, but a heck of a lot more than I do.”

  “I see through you, Crowley. Deceive yourself, but you cannot deceive God.”

  “Then he’s blind, because that’s the damn truth,” I said. “I just… she shouldn’t do what she’s about to alone.”

  “She isn’t alone.”

  An old coot from Britain with a hard-on for the supernatural. His artist partner who didn’t even want to be anywhere near the place. A voodoo witch clinging to what little was left of her power, desperate for an old life with followers and an heir. Not a soul in Crescent City was there for Rosa. Not one of them knew her grief. Didn’t make them bad people, just was what it was.

  “She is,” I said. “And all I did was make it worse, standing in her way. But my head’s clear now.”

  “Then I am glad that before your end you finally have clarity,” Shar said. Her tone was soft, pitying. I preferred the harsh edge.

  “Give me this, Shargrafein. Let me help her, and I will kill your Betrayer for you. I’ll serve you for eternity without complaint. Just let me keep her safe.”

  “I already have you for eternity. And you are incapable of not complaining.”

  “I ain’t asking. I’m begging. And you’ve got nothing to lose. Either I kill him, or he kills me, and maybe, you get a Black Badge you can tolerate.”

  “Or perhaps you change your mind in the face of eternal damnation and join him. You Children are so… weak after all.”

  “Even better. Then, you get the pleasure of hunting me. You’ll enjoy it. Heck, we might even find something you get off on. Win-win.”

  Her form swirled, but she didn’t answer.

  The eldritch flame near Rosa flashed and grew. Some new ingredient being added to it, I reckoned.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  “Fine,” she said. “But if the Betrayer does not come for you, then that is the end. You will be buried so deep, you’ll be the foundation of the great cities of the future. Never found. Bedrock.”

  I exhaled through my teeth. “You’re an angel, Shar. Truly.”

  “As if you have any chance against him,” she added.

  The ground loosened its grip on me and I felt myself rising fully to the surface.

  “Never count out a Scuttler.” I went to snap the mirror shut, then stopped. “Oh, one question. Is he really Judas? That’s bullshit, right?”

  No answer. Not that I was surprised.

  One by one, I started ripping thorns away to free myself. Until I heard a snort.

  Timp bowed to offer me her mane. I grabbed on and she lifted me free of the mud.

  “Found your spine, eh, girl?” I asked, patting her side. She tapped a hoof. “You’re right. That one was on me.”

  I checked to make sure I had my guns and belongings. Still there, though filthy.

  Timp moved in front of me and slightly lowered her bleeding back.

  “Nah, I won’t weigh you down after that. We walk together. And I promise, we’ll get you fixed up as soon as this is over.”

  She huffed and I took her reins and started in Rosa’s direction.

  God, was I sick of the swamp and this city. Been nothing but trouble since arriving, but this was it. Wouldn’t be long before Judas came knocking, and that would be the end.

  “Things were simpler when you were the only family I had, weren’t they, Timp?” I chuckled. “Yep. I miss simple.”