Epilogue
“Do you want a veggie burger?” Poppy asks me from the kitchen.
I’m sitting at a dining table purchased from IKEA with some of the money Waring gave us for destroying the codex. (Well, for getting it out of Hades’s hands.) It’s a drop-leaf, so we can make it long enough for everyone. At least, once I get enough chairs.
CJ is back in the rickety director’s chair. Ezra brought over a barstool. Tolliver is in Dante’s gaming chair. They’re all chowing down on the burgers we ordered.
Poppy’s head pops out of the kitchen. “Veggie burger?” she asks again.
I sigh, despondent. “I guess. Since the blood of the innocent is off the menu.”
She laughs like I haven’t made that same joke a hundred times already. I don’t tell her I’m only partly kidding.
“I think we’re looking at this layout all wrong,” Ezra says around a mouthful of hamburger, pointing at the schematics buried under hamburger wrappers and napkins.
“No shoptalk at the table!” Poppy says, setting a plate with my veggie burger before me.
“That has never been a rule,” I say.
“We can make it a rule,” she says, setting down her own plate and sitting on the one dining chair I have. “We can make the rules whatever we want.”
I pick up my burger to take a bite, and suddenly my fingers are claws and I’ve skewered my dinner into oblivion. My vision goes red.
“Goddamn it,” I mutter, throwing down the burger.
I close my eyes and count to ten, breathing heavily. When I open my eyes, my claws have receded.
Poppy looks at my poor excuse for a burger, now just lumps of fake meat and torn bread that Crowlene is surreptitiously hopping toward. “It’ll taste the same.”
I give her a tight smile. I’m determined to be positive about my recent changes.
After all, it was my decision. I knew the risks.
And at the end of the day, being a demon is really not that different from being a human—except for the horns and bloodlust. And the unrelenting urge to make misleading deals, but that’s always been there.
At least the horns are cute. I’ve got little ones that have a bit of a twist.
“I would like to again suggest—” Ezra starts.
Rage shoots through me, and I turn to him. “I WILL CONSUME YOUR SOUL!”
The words are pulled through me with the sound of a thousand strident voices. I am hunger, I am legion. I will destroy these pathetic excuses for…
The room is quiet. Everyone is staring, muscles tense.
I breathe deeply as the rage passes. I feel the claws and horns receding, the black veins and eyes fading.
When the demon in me is tucked neatly away, I give the others a weak smile.
“Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.”
The joke doesn’t land, but they laugh anyway.
Because they’re all afraid I’ll accidentally murder them if they don’t.
“A bit gauche!” Crowlene squawks, and the tension breaks. The others go back to eating.
“No,” I say carefully, levelly. “I don’t need his help.”
Ezra throws up his hands. “I’m just saying, it’s not like we don’t know a guy.”
What he wants is for us to find Rook. His reasoning is that if Rook could keep his human form the entire time we knew him, he would be able to help me keep mine.
If I’d had my way, it wouldn’t even be an option.
As soon as I’d banished Hades, I’d turned my wrath on Rook. I was in full demon mode. Horns, claws, pits for eyes, veins to match. And an all-consuming rage lit by the fire of a thousand suns.
He’d stared at me from across the turret. “You won’t kill me.”
“You don’t know me,” I spat back.
He gave me a pitying look. “Oh, Elle. I know everything about you.”
It took all of the others to hold me back as Rook snuck out of the mansion.
Which was on fire, by the way. Because of the hellfire.
My hellfire. That I had no idea how to extinguish.
So I ended up accidentally burning his house to the ground, and I’m only partly sad by all the historical artifacts that were lost in the name of BURNING AND SALTING THE EARTH ON WHICH HE—
See? There I go again.
We watched the house burn from the tennis court, and I could sense the flames reflecting in my eyes.
“Why didn’t you let me kill him?” I’d growled to the others. And it wasn’t even my demon voice.
They didn’t answer, but now that I’ve thought about it, I think they did it for me, not him.
It was one thing to banish Hades. It would be another thing entirely to make killing a habit.
And even though the rest of my life will be a slow descent into evil, I think being a serial killer would bother me.
Everyone is still watching me, so I delicately pick up a piece of veggie burger and put it into my mouth.
“I’m fine, guys,” I say, mouth full. “Look, Ma. No claws.”
CJ clears their throat. “Even when you have claws, we still love you.”
Everyone stops eating. Silence falls as we all turn to look at CJ.
They grit their teeth. “I’m trying to be more affirming to those around me.” Every word sounds like it was dragged out and it was the worst thing to ever happen to them.
“That’s very nice of you, CJ,” Poppy says.
Their eyes meet for a moment before they both look away.
CJ realizes Poppy never really betrayed us, but they’re mad at me for not telling them, mad at Poppy for working for the Phantoms in the first place, and mad at themself for some reason. But I think they’re always a little mad at themself.
They still have a few days before they have to go work for their family. I don’t think it’s forever. And I don’t know how Mafias work, but surely they get vacation time or something.
Besides, that’s our next job: Figuring out how to get CJ out of the deal with their family.
“So do you think you count as a zombie?” Ezra asks suddenly.
Tolliver whacks him in the arm. “Of course she’s not a zombie. She’s alive. Zombies are undead.”
I tilt my head. “I mean, I am kind of undead. I was dead, and then I undeaded myself.”
“That’s different,” Tolliver says. “Your flesh isn’t rotting. I can’t see your organs…”
“Maybe Crowlene is a zombie. And a demon,” I say, bouncing in my seat. “Oh, I forgot to tell you guys. Crowlene isn’t my familiar. She just hangs around because she loves me!”
Crowlene ruffles her feathers, making a clicking noise.
I toss her a bit of hamburger. “She hasn’t even abandoned me in my zombie demon form.”
“You’re not a zombie,” Poppy says. “You’re…whatever the girl version of a gentleman thief is.”
“But she’s not just that,” Ezra argues. “ ’Cause she’s also a demon.”
“And kind of a demigod,” Tolliver says. “Because of the whole Persephone thing.”
“And a witch,” Poppy adds.
“We’ve solved it,” I say. “I’m a demon witch-god gentleman thief.”
“Maybe zombie,” Ezra quips.
“Maybe zombie,” I agree.
I’m able to eat the rest of my burger uneventfully, and after helping with the dishes (only breaking one with surprise claws), I go hide out in my room for a bit.
I’m fine. Really, I am. This is just…an adjustment. People are always changing, growing, becoming something new. It’s just, most people don’t grow into a demon…witch-god-gentleman-thief-maybe-zombie.
But the crew is reunited, Dante’s soul is restored, if not resurrected, and I’m starting to piece my life back together.
I listen at my door for just a moment to make sure all is quiet before picking up my necromancer dress discarded on the bedroom floor. There are two big holes in it, and it’s caked in dried blood. I’m definitely going to throw it out, but first…
I reach under the bustle and pull out the grimoire.
Because, come on. I wasn’t going to burn the real thing.
After toppling over the pedestal that held the codex, I had just enough presence of mind to make the switch with the forged copy Poppy had made for the Gala Heist.
I sit on the edge of my mattress, laying the grimoire on my lap. There are secrets in here. More than just death and resurrection. Secrets that feel like my birthright. And, yeah, every time I use magic, I might lose a little bit of my soul. But come on. It’s me.
I open the book and turn to the first page.