Page 29 of Mortis

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver crawling up the back of my neck. I couldn’t decide whether I liked hearing my name in that deep rumble of a voice or whether it was some deeply ingrained prey response.

Probably the prey thing.

Hopefully the prey thing.

“Okay, Kael. Pick up Mrs Robinson, and then follow me.”

I didn’t miss the way his expression brightened slightly when I used his name.

Interesting.

He crouched low and lifted the half-chomped body of Dorothy Robinson, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Part of me wanted to lecture him on showing respect to the dead. But he’d already partly eaten her, so the point was moot.

I led him over to the refrigeration unit. He followed my instructions, helping me store Dorothy’s corpse in the drawer. A problem I’d have to face tomorrow. Once she was secure, the fridge door closed and locked, I turned to open the second unit. Kael inhaled, and his eyes flashed ruby red before settling once more.

“He enjoys this scent,” he said quietly.

I glanced at him.

“The Beast?” He nodded, and I pulled out the tray holding Mr Cartwright. “He’ll enjoy it even more when I’m done.”

Kael’s gaze followed the body.

“Now do me a favour.” I pointed from the corpse to the embalming table. “Put him over there.”

Without hesitation, Kael lifted Mr Cartwright as easily as I might carry a shopping bag. I tried not to be jealous. Together, we crossed back to the embalming table, where he laid the body down with surprising care.

“Right.” I planted my hands on my hips and chewed thoughtfully on my lower lip. “How do we do this?”

Kael remained silent, watching as I tried to work it out. I had no idea what part of a human tasted best. Thankfully, I wasn’t the one planning to eat it.

People liked steak, didn’t they? That felt relevant.

Instead of looking at Mr Cartwright as a person, I forced myself to think like a butcher.

“Okay,” I said eventually. “Turn him onto his front.”

While Kael followed my instructions, I grabbed a pair of gloves and my instrument tray. He frowned at the collection of clamps, forceps, scissors, and scalpels.

“You intend to torture him?”

My hand froze halfway to the scalpel. “What?”

“They resemble instruments of torture.” He reached out and flicked one of the angled forceps. “I briefly considered gifting one to my master.”

I blinked. “The Prince of Hell?”

Kael nodded. “Mammon. One of the Seven.”

“Right.” I picked up the scalpel. “That’s definitely a conversation we’re having later.”

The number of questions I had was becoming physically painful. Unfortunately, we were currently racing a demon-imposed deadline.

Curiosity would have to wait.

I positioned the scalpel against Mr Cartwright’s backside. A rump steak seemed like a reasonable comparison. Dense muscle. Plenty of meat. Mr Cartwright, may he rest in peace, possessed an abundance of both.

Still, I hesitated.