Page 3 of Judge of Saints and Sinners

The Underworld was a part of me and each of my brothers. When our blood spilled, our world simply absorbed it once more, just as it always had done with our magic. Perhaps someday, I would simply be absorbed too.

I looked back to the painting.

“Goodnight,” I whispered. “My friends.”

I forced myself to walk away, to turn from the mural and move into my living quarters, a combination of rooms adjacent to the courthouse. Before I’d gone a stride into my private chambers, I was suddenly accosted with an enormous soldier in white, his dark hair swinging across his shoulders in neat braids. I clutched at his arms in an attempt to keep both of us standing then stepped back and released him quickly. Usually the Brotherhood members who served the courthouse stayed far from me. As the token peacekeepers of the Underworld, they were typically more occupied down by the bridge and the river, keeping the anxiously waiting souls in line.

“Atlas,” I grunted, squaring my shoulders against the warrior. He was their leader, and therefore had to interact with me, much to his obvious dismay. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The warrior dropped to a knee in an uncharacteristic show of submission. I raised my brows.

“My lord, we have a problem.”

My heart leaped in my chest. I mentally reached for the well of power in my soul. There wasn’t much remaining after the number of souls I’d judged today. Without the jurors, that task wore heavily on me.

“What is it?” Had the corruption finally reached my realm? Or was there another issue with Arafel's realm? My stomach bottomed out as I considered what might have happened to my younger brother and his little human mate, Lucia.

I did not form attachments, especially to humans, but the smart, peculiar female human nearly had me convinced that she was strong enough to survive in our world. Nearly.

It would serve Arafel right if she were hurt. Hell was no place for a human. I had learned that; it was his own stupid fault for not learning from my mistake. Leave the bonding to the humans in the living world or the creatures of the Underworld.

Demons were not fit for mates, let alone being paired up with a human. My mother had believed we were, but then again, maybe that was why she was gone, then. Even the King of the Dead couldn’t keep his mate safe.

What hope did my brothers or I have?

“My lord?” Atlas slowly stood once again. “I came to tell you that Cerberus has been missing for several hours.”

I blinked. “You lost an enormous three-headed dog?” Of course they had. Cerberus was older than the Brotherhood. He was older than nearly anything else here. The equivalent of a boy asking for a puppy, I had asked my father for a companion early on in our existence.

He had given me Cerberus. The dog typically lounged around the Underworld wherever he pleased, but he was particularly fond of my realm. Something that made me rather proud most days. I couldn't hold much over my brothers, but I did consider Cerberus mine.

Atlas didn’t meet my eyes but nodded just once.

I strode across the entryway to the office just beyond, raising my voice so Atlas could hear me. “Cerberus is a trusted companion, and he knows the Underworld better than most of its occupants. He will be fine. You are dismissed.”

I didn't need to look at him to know Atlas hadn’t left. Sighing loudly to be sure he heard me and my corresponding frustration, I turned to him.

“Yes, Atlas?”

“That’s why I came to you, my lord. We have reason to believe Cerberus is not in the Underworld any longer.”

That got my attention. I stalked closer to the warrior. “Rise.”

Atlas moved smoothly to his feet, unencumbered by the armor. This time, I made sure to get uncomfortably close to the warrior's face before I spoke again. Inside of his standard Brotherhood attire—a tunic and lightweight black-dyed leather armor—the male was sweating. My nostrils flared at the scent of his fear, the demon inside me uncoiling and roiling to just below the surface.

“You are telling me one of my creatures is wandering around the living world and I’m just now hearing about it?”

Atlas nodded again, eyes fixed on something across the room. I could see his neck tighten as I growled. There, right there, his pulse hammered. It would be simple, one slice of my claws, one snap of my jaws. Unlike my more sophisticated brothers, my tastes ran more carnal in nature. More like my father’s demon soldiers than the Prince of Hell. My exterior may be that of cool disinterest, but inner desires were as base as any demon in the Underworld.

With a growl, I spun away from him, forcing my heartbeat to even.

“Where?” I shook my head to clear the haze of fury that always accompanied my emotions. Fucking demon genetics.

“We think he’s somewhere near a place called Omaha, Nebraska.”

My feet skidded to a halt. And Atlas nearly bumped into me once again. He steadied himself, decorum faltering as he caught a look at my face. “Do you know it, my lord?”

“I do.” I yanked open the door to my chambers. “That’s where my soul bound was killed.