Kael's POV
I'm sitting in Judge Harold Brennan's living room when I smell her coming.
Silver fire and devil magic. The Pale Judge.
She's early—11:47 PM instead of midnight. Smart. Cautious. But not cautious enough, because I've been here since sunset, waiting in the dark like the predator I was born to be.
Judge Brennan is tied to a chair in his bedroom, gagged and terrified. He should be. The man has been taking bribes for fifteen years, letting rapists and murderers walk free if they pay enough. His sins are thick and black—I can smell them even without her supernatural sight.
But that's not why I'm using him as bait.
I'm using him because the Pale Judge can't resist. She sees evil, and she has to destroy it. It's not really a choice for her anymore. Azrael made sure of that when he gave her power and took away her ability to ignore suffering.
The balcony door slides open silently.
She steps inside, her silver eyes glowing in the darkness, scanning the room. She's wearing all black again, her face half-covered, moving like a shadow. Beautiful and deadly and not quite human anymore.
I can see the changes from yesterday. Her skin is paler. Her movements are too fluid, too perfect. Whatever she's becoming, it's accelerating.
"Hello, Sera," I say from my chair.
She freezes. Spins. Her eyes lock on mine, and power crackles between us.
"You know my name," she says quietly. Not a question.
"I know everything about you." I stand slowly, hands visible, non-threatening. "Sera Valentine. Twenty-five years old. Former paralegal. Made a deal with Azrael six months ago. Traded thirty years of your life for power. Currently have fourteen years, six months, and eleven days left."
Her face doesn't change, but I smell her fear spike.
"How—"
"I have resources." I take a step forward. She takes a step back. "And I've spent the last forty-eight hours learning everything about the Pale Judge. Every kill. Every target. Every pattern."
"Then you know they all deserved it."
"Deserved what? Torture? Madness? Eternal psychological torment?" My voice hardens. "You're not delivering justice, Sera. You're delivering damnation."
"Better than letting them walk free!"
"Is it?" I gesture toward the bedroom where Judge Brennan whimpers behind his gag. "That man in there has freed seventeen rapists and eight murderers. He's taken over two million dollars in bribes. He absolutely deserves punishment. But does he deserve to have his mind shattered? To spend the rest of his life screaming at ghosts?"
"Yes," she says without hesitation.
And that's when I see it—the emptiness in her eyes. The void where empathy should be. She's not lying. She genuinely believes eternal torture is justice.
She's further gone than I thought.
"You're losing yourself," I say quietly. "Can't you feel it? The way emotions are fading? The way human things don't matter anymore?"
"I don't have time to feel," Sera snaps. "I have fourteen years to fix a broken world. Every second I waste is another innocent person suffering."
"So you'll become a monster to stop monsters?"
"If that's what it takes!" Her eyes flash brighter. "You don't understand. I was weak my whole life. People hurt me, and I couldn't stop them. I watched evil win over and over. Now I finally have power to make things right!"
"By destroying people's minds?"
"By making them PAY!" She's shaking now, rage and anguish mixing in her voice. "Your brother sold a mirror that made a fourteen-year-old girl see such horrible things she jumped off a bridge! He laughed about it! LAUGHED! So yes, I made him see what she saw. I made him feel what she felt. And I'd do it again!"
The pain in her voice cuts through my anger. This isn't just about justice for her. It's personal. It's every hurt she ever endured coming out as righteous fury.
"What happened to you?" I ask. "Before the deal. What made you this way?"
"That's none of your business."
"Humor me." I sit back down, deliberately casual. "You're here to kill Judge Brennan. I'm here to stop you. We're going to fight eventually. Might as well talk first."
She stares at me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, she speaks.
"Twelve years of bullying. Every day from sixth grade to senior year. They called me names. Pushed me. Broke my things. Made my life hell. And nobody helped. Teachers saw and did nothing. My parents said I was being too sensitive. The principal said kids will be kids." Her voice is hollow. "Then I grew up and saw it was the same everywhere. Bullies became bosses. Mean girls became corrupt lawyers. The system protects predators and punishes victims. So I made a deal to change that."
"And it's eating you alive."
"I know." For the first time, her voice cracks. "I can't taste food anymore. Music sounds flat. I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself. But I can't stop, Kael. Because if I stop, all those years of suffering meant nothing. Every victim I couldn't save dies for nothing."
My demon blood surges with an unfamiliar emotion—not rage or hunger, but something worse.
Sympathy.
I understand her. More than I want to. Because I've spent three hundred years fighting the same battle—trying to be good while carrying darkness inside. Trying to matter while watching evil flourish.
"There's another way," I say.
"There isn't."
"Work with me." The words surprise even me. "You want to stop evil? Fine. But do it smart. Do it right. Don't shatter minds—put them in prison. Don't become a monster—stay human."
"Why would you help me?" Suspicion fills her voice. "I broke your brother."
"I know." The pain is still fresh. "But maybe... maybe you were right about Marcus. Maybe I protected him too long. Maybe I'm guilty too." The admission tastes like ash. "But that doesn't mean your way is right either."
Sera studies me with those silver eyes. For a moment, I see the human she used to be—scared, hurt, desperate for someone to understand.
Then her expression hardens.
"No. You'll just try to stop me." She moves toward the bedroom. "Now get out of my way, or—"
"Or what? You'll break my mind too?" I stand. "Try it. I'm half-demon, remember? My mind doesn't work like a human's. Your power won't affect me the same way."
"Want to test that theory?"
"Actually, yes."
We stare at each other. The air between us crackles with power—silver and red, light and darkness, mixing in ways that shouldn't be possible.
Then Azrael's voice fills the room, coming from everywhere and nowhere.
"How touching. The monster and the hunter, finding common ground."
Sera spins, searching for the source. I bare my teeth.
"Show yourself, devil."
"In a moment." Azrael sounds amused. "First, I have a proposition for both of you. Kael wants Marcus healed. Sera wants to continue her mission. I can give you both what you want."
"What's the price?" I demand.
"Simple. Work together for thirty days. Hunt as a team. Sera judges who deserves punishment. Kael decides how severe that punishment should be. Balance justice with mercy. Prove you can coexist."
"And if we refuse?" Sera asks.
"Then Kael's demon father kills someone you both care about. Shall we say... Detective Maya Cross? Such a good woman. Would be a shame if Zuriel tore her apart tomorrow night."
My blood runs cold. Sera's face goes white.
"You're bluffing," she says.
"Am I?" Azrael's laugh echoes. "Check your phone, dear Sera."
She does. Her hand flies to her mouth.
"What?" I demand. "What is it?"
She shows me. A photo of Detective Maya leaving the police station. And behind her, barely visible in the shadows, a figure with burning red eyes.
My father. Zuriel.
"Thirty days," Azrael repeats. "Work together. Or watch everyone you love die screaming. Your choice. I'll be watching. Tick tock."
The presence vanishes.
Sera and I stare at each other in horror.
"We have to warn her," Sera says.
"It won't matter." I know my father. "Once Zuriel chooses a target, they're already dead. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless we do what Azrael wants. My father is his creature. He won't attack if Azrael calls him off."
"So we're trapped."
"Looks like it."
Sera laughs bitterly. "A devil's deal within a devil's deal. Of course."
My phone buzzes. A text from Azrael: "Oh, and one more thing—you have to live together. Can't have you plotting separately. I've prepared a lovely penthouse for you both. Address attached. Move in by dawn, or Maya dies. Sweet dreams! - A"
Sera looks at me. I look at her.
"This is insane," she whispers.
"Completely."
"I hate you."
"The feeling's mutual."
"We're going to kill each other."
"Probably."
Another text: "P.S. - The penthouse has one bedroom. Have fun! 😈 - A"
Sera's face goes from white to red.
"Oh HELL no—"
"Agreed, but—"
"There is no BUT! I'm not living with the man who wants me dead!"
"You broke my brother's mind!"
"He deserved it!"
"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"
We're shouting at each other when Judge Brennan starts screaming behind his gag, and we remember why we're both here.
Sera looks at him. Looks at me.
"What do we do with him?"
I think about Azrael's challenge. Balance justice with mercy.
"Your power," I say. "Can you control how intense it is? Show him his sins without shattering his mind?"
"I... don't know. I've never tried."
"Try now."
She hesitates. Then nods.
Together, we walk into the bedroom to deliver our first judgment as reluctant partners.
And I can't shake the feeling that Azrael planned this all along.