Vengeance (Burning Beliefs #2)

Chapter Four *edited*

SERENA'S POV

Murder is overrated.

Usually, people play it up like some big scandal. The media is all over it like dogs on bones. Court cases are publicized beyond infamy. The gruesome details are released, people get paranoid, and they lock their doors at night, install security systems, because the publicity makes people believe that everyone is dangerous.

I mean, yeah, it's awful and terrible and horrible, which is why it's so overrated. People don't understand it. Serial killers truly are insane, because you don't get a surge of power as you hold someone's life in your hands, you get a surge of sadness. Their eyes are pleading, fading to stonelike vacancy, and their breath is shriveling as you're trying to apologize, repeating that you're sorry over and over again... No matter who they were, no one deserves to go like that.

"Three down," Crowley remarks from across the table.

The cafe smells like vanilla wafers. The tables are made of plastic. Croissants are baked with butter, and after four o'clock, they serve gelato and ice cream.

"How many left to go?" I stare down into my whipped cream swirled coffee.

"Not sure. Depends on how well you do... I want to see how long you hold out."

I lower my eyebrows and stare up at him.

"You really are the King of Hell."

"All day, every day."

I sigh, twirling the mug with a stainless spoon, and stare out the window.

"Where to next?" I ask.

"There was a group of people who took down a whole army of my demons, right as they were about to break into the system... I suppose you could teach them a lesson," he places a finger on his chin.

"Whatever it takes to get back to my family," I state blankly. My stomach is hurting, from the caffeine, and from being sick of myself. "Where's this group of people?"

Crowley snaps his fingers.

Oh, great, the middle of a busy street.

I instantly walk with the huge crowd crossing in front of millions of cabs. People with small children, dogs, too many shopping bags and not enough hands, swarm into a small park with a fountain in the center. Crowley takes my hand, dragging me to the very edge of the sidewalk and sitting us down on a bench.

"The building right in front of us is the headquarters for a company that screwed me over a few years back," he explains. "Kill the owner."

"Should I just waltz right in and stick a knife down his throat?"

"Well, I was thinking, we should get you back into the business of pleasure, shouldn't we?"

"Pleasure?" I shake my head. "As in mine, or making other people feel good?"

"I've heard you have a bit of charm attached to the pseudonym Bella."

I sigh. Not this again.

"I've put all that behind me."

"Well, now you've got to put it in front of you. Show it off, make them sweat, before they burn to Hell. Literally."

This is a bad idea. This is a really, really disgusting, horrifying, stupid, annoying, perverted, did-I-mention-stupid idea, but...

"I'll do it."

Welcome back, Bella.

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