DAUGHTER OF SMOKE

A GIRL AND HER HELLHOUNDS BOOK TWO

NICOLE ZOLTACK

Copyright 2021 by Nicole Zoltack

Cover Artist: Cover Design by JervyBonifacio|Phoenix Design Studio

ISBN: 9798513169741

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

To my dad

CONTENTS

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Other Books By Nicole Zoltack

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Author’s Note

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CHAPTER 1

“I am engaging in war with you, Father. I’m at war with Lucifer himself.”

My words echo in Lucifer’s throne room.

And his reaction?

It’s not rage.

It’s not fury.

It’s nothing resembling anger at all.

He laughs.

He has the audacity to throw back his head and laugh like he has a bowl full of jelly for his belly, and he's some kind of dark, twisted Santa.

Before I can do anything, say anything, react to his reaction, Lucifer waves his hand, and he banishes me away to another part of Hell, the spot where I play with my hellhounds often.

They’re here now, Demonfang and Shadechomp, playing—well, fighting—with each other. At least the two of them are happy. Happy-ish? Kind of.

They rush up to me, take one look at me, and immediately turn right back around.

Even they don’t want anything to do with me.

Completely deflated and demoralized by Lucifer’s reaction to my declaration of war, I hunch my shoulders. When did I revert back to my human self out of my demoness form? I’m not even sure. That’s how out of it I am.

My head is throbbing as if someone crescent-kicked it. Not fun. I wearily make my way over to a huge red boulder and sit down on it, rubbing my temple.

“You’re crazy,” a soft voice says.

I don’t bother to lift my head. My stomach is starting to churn, and I’m afraid I’m going to be sick.

Larissa crosses over to me. I can hear her even though I’ve shut my eyes to try to block out some of the blinding light that’s hurting me.

“You can’t just go to war against Lucifer,” she adds.

My eyes open. Larissa is kneeling before me. For once, her face is open and eager. She's almost passionate about this, which is so unlike her. Apathy is her middle name, after all.

“I can, and I will,” I say stubbornly. If she thinks she can change my mind, she’s wrong, and she’s wasting her time.

“Really?” She throws out an arm. “Go on then. Hunt him down in his throne room. Slay him. I’m waiting.” When I don’t do anything, she adds, “Come on, Lydia! You know you can’t kill him!”

“That’s not the end goal,” I mutter.

“So what is?” She tilts her head to the side. Her hair is cut in an asymmetrical bob, probably because it’s a minimal care hairstyle, at least in her case. Just wash and go. At least, I hope she takes the time to wash it…

I’ve been opening and shutting my hand, conjuring and extinguishing the same energy orb over and over again. It’s a pointless endeavor, but my declaration of war won’t be as meaningless.

I will see to that personally.

“Why do you want war?” Larissa murmurs. “You aren’t Leo.”

“No.”

“And you aren’t Lance. You aren’t envious of Lucifer’s power, or are you? Do you want his throne?”

My lips slowly curl into a half-smirk. Oh, how different Hell would be if I were in charge! But that will never happen. Hell is Lucifer’s domain. Here, he is king.

But on Earth… Yes, he has power there. Yes, he’s been spreading darkness and disease and anger and hatred across the planet, but the Earth is not his, not entirely.

Maybe that’s where I should lure him. Maybe on Earth, he won’t be quite as strong, and I can…

I can do what exactly? Stop him? Capture him? Kidnap him? It's not as if I can hold him for ransom. No one wants him.

Especially not as a father figure.

“Do you want his throne?” Larissa asks pointedly.

“What do you think?” I snap.

“I think I don’t recognize you anymore, little sister.”

“As if you ever knew me at all.”

“Whose fault is that?” Larissa challenges. “You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with any of us. You don’t exactly strive to spend time with us. No, you prefer the company of your hellhounds.”

“Maybe that’s true,” I say slowly, “but—”

“There’s no maybe about it.” Larissa shakes her head so emphatically that her dark hair flies across her face, whipping her. “You don’t care for any of us, and now, you don’t even care about Lucifer.”

“Does anyone?” I snort. “Can anyone care for him? I don’t think so. He’s Lucifer! He’s the Prince of Darkness, the Father of Lies! No one can trust him, and without trust, you can’t love.”

“Do you trust anyone?” Larissa asks, her tone very soft, so soft that I can hardly hear her.

“I…”

“Do you trust me?” Larissa asks.

I rub my eyes and then wipe my hands down my face. “How can I? I’m not even sure you’re really you, Larissa. You aren’t acting like yourself—”

“Neither are you!” she bursts out. “You aren’t like the rest of us. You aren’t driven by dark, base emotions. You don’t have dark inclinations like the rest of us. War, conquest, famine, death… None of those appeal to you—”

“Wrong. I’ve declared war, haven’t I?” I point out with a wicked smile.

Larissa’s mouth drops open. “You aren’t… You have to repeal that. Take it back. Convince Lucifer it was a joke. If you don’t… I don’t want to think about what he might do to you.”

“He doesn’t scare me,” I boast.

“He should, and maybe you are too proud. What’s that saying?”

I say nothing.

“Pride comes before a fall, right? And you’re going to fall hard, and no one will be there to catch you.”

“Geez, thanks,” I say sarcastically. “I always wanted to know if I could count on any of my siblings for a trust fall thing. Turns out, I can’t. No surprise there, though.”

“You’re insane,” she says. “Can’t you see that? You’re going to get yourself killed, and if you drag any of us into the middle of it—”

“Didn’t you just hear me? I can’t trust any of you. Why would I ask for your help? You all are more likely to stab me in the back.”

“You might not drag us into it, but if you’re serious, if you do this, if you go to war against… our father…” She shudders. “He will include us, even if you don’t.”

I say nothing. She has a point, as much as I hate to admit it, and I don’t like that thinking. Not at all.

Not the part about her having a point. The point itself. I've always thought that Larissa's being apathetic to everything might've been just an act. She's highly intelligent. She just doesn't like to get involved, and she's lazy, but that doesn't mean she doesn't watch, doesn't listen.

Honestly, she would make for a perfect spy, a snake in Daddy-O’s camp.

But trust is huge, and I don’t trust her or any of the others. I can’t.

Because Lucifer has planted seeds of doubt in all of our minds since we were little. He used to always pit us against each other, encouraging us to cheat and to do whatever it takes to win.

He’s bred us to be sinners, to be ruthless, to be cunning.

He’s going to rue that.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm the youngest, twenty in Earthling years. I'm not sure how long I've been alive if you go by time in Hell. Time's so much slower down here, although, at times, it seems to be much faster. It's strange, but then again, my entire life is strange.

“You’re going to die if you go up against him,” Larissa states. “Don’t you realize that? And it won’t be just death either. It’ll be worse than that. So much worse. The things he does to those who wrong him…”

“But what about those he’s wronged? We’re just supposed to grin and bear it?”

She shakes her head. Her dark eyes look sadder than normal.

“You’re talking to me like it’s goodbye already, like it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m going to die,” I spit out bitterly.

Larissa averts her gaze, but from her eyes, it’s clear to see that’s exactly what this is.

“Yeah, well, it’s been nice knowing ya,” I say. “So grateful for everything you’ve done for me over the years.”

“Because you’ve done so much for me,” she says. “Oh, yes. Breakfast once or twice. Some coffee. You act like you’re so much better than the rest of us, but honestly, you aren’t. You’re just like us, and besides, what even is that? Being nice? Why bother?”

“It doesn’t bother you that none of us have friends? That we use people who we meet instead of… I don’t know…”

“What? Hanging out? You’ve barely gone up to Earth ever, and now, you want to pretend that you’re a human? Seriously? Hell’s fire, I know you’re young, but I didn’t realize you were stupid too.”

“And here I was, thinking you’re highly intelligent when all you are is vicious and cruel.”

Larissa flinches and licks her lips. “Father—”

“Lucifer,” I spit out. “His name is Lucifer.”

“And to think that he, the Light Bringer, calls you his Bright One. No more.”

My nostrils flare. “He’s not the Light Bringer. He’s the Night Bringer. His name should no longer be Lucifer but Noctifer.”

Larissa shakes her head. “If you dare to call him that, do you know what he’ll do? He won’t be Light Bringer or Night Bringer. He’ll be Death Bringer, and he’ll bring you death. Is that what you want?”

“He would prefer Mortifer, wouldn’t he?” I muse bitterly.

“You know he would. Just let this go.”

I stare at her, deep into her eyes. They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and I can see that this truly is Larissa. Something’s gotten through to her somewhat, enough to get her to actually care about something.

Someone.

Me.

“You don’t want me to die,” I murmur. “Is that why you came here?”

“Is it that hard for you to realize I don’t want you dead?”

“But Lucifer…”

“Yes, he plays us, and yes, he’s tried to encourage us to make poor choices. We aren’t him, though, and we have our own minds—”

“And we have free will.” I bite my lower lip. “Right?”

“Do you think Lucifer wants you to go to war with him?”

“I don’t know.” I blow out a breath. “Maybe he does.”

“Come on now. Does that make any sense?”

“Does everything he does make sense?” I counter.

“Even if we don’t understand why he does what he does, I’m sure he knows why, and there’s a reason behind it. If you think he somehow wants you to go to war with him… He wants you to lose. You will lose. He’s playing you. Can’t you see that?”

“Guess not. I can’t even see why you care. You’ve never really cared about me before.”

Larissa straightens and shakes her head. “You think you’re better than us,” she says again, “but you aren’t. You aren’t any different than we are. You’re just as stubborn and terrible.”

“We’re what Lucifer molded us into, but I, for one, am going to crack that mold.”

“No,” she says softly. “You’re what’s going to get cracked. Your head will get cracked open like an egg.”

With that, she teleports away.

I turn to the side, watching my hellhounds. They’re not fighting or playing with each other. They’re just whimpering softly as they lay there, watching me. Maybe they’re sensing my inner turmoil.

In my hand, I don’t conjure an energy orb. No, I conjure a bright ball of fire.

Yes, my father used to call me Bright One, but no more. I’m not bright, and I’m not his daughter. I reject him and all of his promises, empty or otherwise.

Instead of being his daughter, I am the daughter of smoke, and he is going to rue the fire I’m going to blaze.

Hmm. Maybe I’ll be bright again after all.

CHAPTER 2

I’m trying to shove aside my worries and doubts. Declaring war on Lucifer maybe shouldn’t have been my first step. I probably should’ve had an entire plan laid out, but I’m more impulsive than I ever thought. Maybe it’s better to be a fly as you go kind of person, but when you’re playing a dangerous game with the Prince of Darkness, you might want to actually have a game plan.

But the way Demonfang and Shadechomp are staring at me, their four combined heads all giving me puppy eyes… It’s enough to want to make me want to ignore all of my problems and play with them.

In fact, I cock back my arm, readying an energy orb, about to fling it so they can go chase after it when Lance appears.

Lance. My oldest brother.

He has the same yellow glowing eyes that I do, but all the rest of our siblings have eyes as black as their souls. His hair is as dark as theirs, though, while mine is blond. No wonder I’m the odd man out, and they don’t even realize the truth.

Yes, my mom is a descendant of Lilith, the first demoness, but I also have a valkyrie ancestor somewhere up on the family tree.

A little-known fact about valkyries?

They’re angels of death.

Yeah, the angel part still throws me whenever I think about it.

“Did Lucifer send you?” I ask, not looking at Lance, throwing the energy orb after all.

My hellhounds, though, ignore it, one of each of their heads eyeing me, the other staring down Lance, their upper lips curled back in a nasty snarl.

“Do you think he did?” Lance asks.

“I don’t know. You’re the brownnoser, so maybe you came here by yourself, hoping to stop me so that I won’t go to war with Lucifer after all. Or… maybe because you do always try to do Lucifer’s bidding to the point that you don’t even think for yourself, maybe Lucifer really did send you. Which is it?”

He flares his nostrils and stands stiffly. “You really don’t know me at all.”

“Or I know you better than you care to admit to yourself.” I shrug one shoulder. “Either way, I’m not interested in what you have to say. Larissa already talked to me, told me I was crazy. Heard that spiel, so I’m done listening to any of you. What did you do? Cast lots to see who has to come and talk to me next? Because I’ll be damned before I have to listen to you all.”

He snorts mirthlessly. “You are damned.”

“Yes, but I can teleport out of here.”

“For now.”

“Yes, and maybe I will go do that,” I say coolly.

“And let your temper dissipate while you’re at it.”

“Oh, that’s not likely.”

“So you want to be like Lani, then? A ball of uncontrollable wrath all the time? I never would’ve thought you would take after her.”

“No…” I finally look at him. “Who did you think I would take after?” I ask curiously.

“Honestly, I thought you would be just that.” He nods to me.

I furrow my brow, confused. “What do you mean?”

"Curiosity." He waves a hand. He's tall, so very tall, and built well. I'm sure a lot of human females would like him. His looks, at least, when he's in his human form. His demon form, though… that's another story.

“Curiosity is hardly… It’s nothing.”

“By itself, yes, but I wouldn’t exactly say that any of the lot of us is ambitious,” Lance says coolly.

Ah, of course Lance would feel threatened by my declaration of war. First of all, he tries to be Daddy’s perfect little son.

Gag me.

Second of all, Lance’s main vice is envy.

Big shock there, right?

Leo longs for war more than anything else while Lucas is conquest after conquest… or you would think he would be if he actually did anything.

Logan and his pride go hand in hand, and Lara and Lena are opposites, the former all about famines and starvation, the latter gluttony. Lola is the one you would think has the valkyrie blood in her considering she’s all about death. The succubus, Lily, obviously is lust. Rounding out the last of them is Landon and greed and Lani and wrath.

Oh, and Larissa and her sloth ways, although honestly, despite their vices, Lucifer has to be rather peeved off with them all, considering they don't do nearly enough. Lack of motivation, maybe? I mean, Lucas talks a big game about wanting to start this conquest or that one, but he doesn't actually do it. Leo and his wars? Yeah, he hasn't started one in years, and it's been maybe a decade since he actually fought in a battle during a war.

Lucifer. Knowing him, he’ll try to use this war of mine to his advantage somehow. Maybe he’ll try to use it as a spark to get my siblings to get into gear and start walking the walk instead of just talking the talk.

"So you think I'm curious and ambitious," I muse since Lance clearly isn't going to leave any time soon. "A real twofer."

“You can act all cute and innocent as much as you want, but I got my eye on you.”

“Oh, yeah? You don’t want me to cut Daddy down to size? You mean to tell me you never once thought about his throne and sitting there?”

He gapes at me. “You mean to say that you have?”

“You honestly haven’t? Geez. I guess green isn’t your color after all. How can you not be jealous of his power?”

Lance scowls, the glow in his eyes dimming some with displeasure.

“You do realize that all of his power stems from his seat, right?” I ask dryly.

“No one else can sit there.”

“No? I can’t just go poof! and teleport there and be okay?” I rub the back of my neck and shrug one shoulder. “Yeah, Lucifer has got to have that thing boobytrapped, don’t you think?”

“If you think that the source of his power stems from that throne—”

“Oh, give me a break!” I airily wave my hand, put my hands on my knees to push up to standing, and waltz around him. “Please, Lance. I’m not a dunce, no matter what you may think of me. Believe me. I know. He uses fear, intimidation, threats, empty promises… Whatever will get the job done, he’ll do it. There are no limits to how low he will stoop.”

“And this is the person you just declared war upon,” he unnecessarily reminds me.

“I did?” I mock-gasp, clutching my hands to my heart. I’ve never wished I wore pearls so badly in my life, although if I did wear pearls, it would have to be the fake kind because I would clutch them so many times a day they would break all the time.

“Yes. You’re lucky, I suppose.”

I roll my eyes, certain I won’t like what he has to say. When he doesn’t say anything, I fight the urge to roll my eyes again and grumble, “Why am I lucky?”

“Father clearly either doesn’t believe you, or else he doesn’t think you’re a threat. Otherwise, he would’ve dealt with you already, right there in his throne room in front of us all.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want an audience,” I point out.

“Then he should’ve portaled right here after he sent you here.”

“Larissa showed up almost immediately,” I point out, “and now you’re here, so… not alone.”

Lance stares upward, shaking his head. “You really think that’s all it is? That I’m saving you, that Larissa saved you? Lucifer will not bother to fight you. Your attempts on his life… You aren’t really going to try and kill him, are you?”

I start to pace in a circle around him. Immediately, my hellhounds race on over, not nipping at my heels like they normally do. No, they’re far more dignified than that, as if they’re attack dogs.

“You wouldn’t be here unless you were nervous,” I remark coolly. “Isn’t that the case?”

“Lydia, you’re…”

"Insane? Larissa already told me that." I stop walking, pivot to face him, and shake my head a few times before poking him hard in the shoulder. "You think you're so big and bad and tough, that you're the one who will always be in Lucifer's good graces, but just you wait. Didn't he just send you to Earth because he wasn’t happy with you?”

“He’s Lucifer,” Lance spits out. “He’s never happy.”

“So why bother to try? Why do anything that he wants? You want so badly to do what he wants, but half the time, you don’t even know what that is. Why don’t you do something that you want to do?” I cross my arms and tilt my head to the side, not at all shocked by the confusion flashing in his golden eyes.

He says nothing, looking from side to side.

“Let me guess,” I say dryly, “you don’t know what you want to do, huh? Never thought about it because all that matters is what Daddy wants.”

Lance huffs. “You need to stop talking.”

"It's a free country," I say with a smirk and a wave of my hand. "You're more than allowed to leave. I didn't ask for you to come, and I didn't ask for your opinion either. Buh bye." I start to walk away, my hellhounds coming with me.

“You really mean to do this, don’t you?”

I halt and turn my head to say over my shoulder, “I don’t do things in halves.”

“Well, sometimes Lucifer will see to it that a person is given a half death and then a full death on top of it, so halves are done in this family.”

“This family.” I snort. “This isn’t a family. This is a joke. No one loves one another. No one cares about one another. Who could love one of us? Come on. Lucifer tainted us not just with his mind but with all the twisted games he used to force us to play. He groomed us, don’t you see? I mean, you have to realize that there are seven deadly sins, right? Envy, sloth, pride, gluttony, lust, greed, and wrath. You, Larissa, Logan, Lena, Lily, Landon, and Lani. Oh, and there are the four horsemen of the apocalypse—war, conquest, famine, and death. Leos, Lucas, Lara, and Lola. Seven plus four equals eleven. That’s all of my wonderful, darling siblings.”

“And you’re the odd one out.”

I smirk. "Maybe I am ambitious. Maybe I'm curious enough to be all of the deadly sins and the four horsemen. Maybe I’ll bring about the apocalypse. How does that sound? Think Daddy will be happy with that?”

Lance gapes at me.

“Don’t bother to try to stop me. I don’t do what anyone else wants. I march to the beat of my own drum, and it’s pounding might fiercely right now. I suggest you get out of my way, Lance, because if you don’t, you’ll get caught in the crosshairs. You wouldn’t want your enviable dark locks to be ruined, do you?”

“Lydia, seriously, you’ve gone off the deep end. You have no chance to—”

“To what?” I ask calmly, amused more than anything that they don’t realize that winning the war won’t mean that Lucifer is dead. If he’s dead, then there is no more Hell.

There will be no more demons.

There would be no more sons and daughters of Lucifer.

Lucifer and Hell… They need each other to survive, and once the apocalypse is over, once there is a new Heaven and a New Earth, Hell will be gone forever.

The end goal isn’t Lucifer’s death.

It’s to be Lucifer’s puppet master.

CHAPTER 3

“You have no chance to fight Lucifer and win.”

My upper lip curls into a scowl. Leo’s come to join the party.

I haven’t forgotten that they came at me and fought me before Lucifer summoned us to his throne room. What’s more, I fought with everything in me, and I barely hung on.

Leo’s right, as much as I hate to admit it.

Not that I plan on fighting Lucifer, not if I can help it. That’s not quite the goal.

I’m going to have to outwit and outplay the master of wit and games.

Never do anything by halves is right.

“I’ve been trying to tell her this,” Lance complains, flinging out his arm as if to say she’s helpless, brother, so utterly stupid.

I can’t stand my brothers at times.

Lily’s shown up, too, just watching me. I’m not sure why she came, but I’m not sure I like the glint in her eyes. She’s plotting something, and that can’t spell good news for the guy in her sights, but she’s eyeing me….

Landon appears so close to me that Shadechomp has no choice but to move away. With both heads, my hellhound snaps and chomps at him.

“Call your hound off,” Landon bites.

“Why? You’re the one invading his space. Mine, too, for that matter.” I lift my nose into the air.

“You’ve really gone and done it this time,” Landon states. “Lucifer’s ready to burn Hell to the ground.”

“What do I care? He’s been talking about me since he sent me here? You all been told by him to gang up on me? Not to fight me. We’ve been there, done that, right, but this…” I wave my hand around to encompass all of this. “This isn’t happening. Sorry.”

And I escape with my hellhounds to Earth.

The air here is so much more refreshing, so much cooler, and I tilt my head to allow the sun’s rays to touch me. I should be worried about everyone seeing us, and I do take a few moments to ensure anyone who looks in our direction doesn’t see two two-headed fiery dogs, but I can already feel some of my stress ebbing away.

My mother. Is she alive? Dead? Is there any way I could find her? Maybe she could give me some advice…

Maybe she is alive but in hiding, staying away from Lucifer. I mean, I would imagine that any woman who entangles with him regrets it.

Did she even hold me once before he took me away? Did she even fight for me?

Banishing my troubling thoughts aside, I glance around. Where am I? In my haste to get away, I just teleported to Earth. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t end up at the bottom of the ocean. That would’ve killed my pups instantly. I really need to be more careful next time.

Hills in the distance, mountains farther back, no buildings in sight, no roads… Can’t hear anything but the sounds of nature, no cars, nothing manmade at all.

So utterly refreshing.

I lie down on the grass, sprawling out. My more placated mood allows my hellhounds to be playful again, and I can hear them yip and yap and howl like normal. As peace settles over me, I close my eyes, living in the moment, actually enjoying myself for once.

A smile graces my face.

Until it turns upside down.

The air’s changed slightly. Someone’s arrived. I can feel the presence of another person, and I can already feel judgment.

Great. An angel.

And I just know which one.

“Why are you here?” I ask shortly, my eyes still closed.

“Funny,” he says. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“No angels allowed here.”

“Actually, it’s more like no demons are allowed here.”

“No. Angels shouldn’t be here.”

“You don’t know where you are, do you?”

With a sigh, I open my eyes and stare up at the nice blue sky. A few fat clouds in indistinguishable shapes float on by.

The insufferable angel says nothing, so I huff as I sit up, bending one leg and hooking an arm around the knee. “Where am I?”

“The Golden Expanse.”

“Golden Expanse,” I repeat. “Never heard of it.”

“Why am I not surprised? You aren’t exactly the most educated of demons, are you?”

“I thought angels weren’t supposed to be judgmental,” I say dryly.

“You should go.”

“I find it peaceful here.”

He inhales slowly and exhales just as methodically. I bet he counts each stroke when he brushes his hair. Maybe when he brushes his white teeth too.

“You don’t deserve peace,” he says.

I shrug one shoulder. “You want me to leave? Then, you have to tell me why.”

“This area is the site of where the angel Gabriel first came down to Earth.”

“Ah. So, this is hallowed ground, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.” He scowls at me. Somehow, even with that look of displeasure, he still appears beautiful. Angels always look amazing. It’s unfair, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen an ugly demon. Er, well, in their human form. Their demonic form can be an entirely different matter.

“And I’m… defiling it with my presence?” I ask, having to avert my gaze because the way the sun is hitting his short, curly blond hair makes him look even more angelic than normal. He has a halo here on Earth. It’s nauseating.

“You are.”

“How so? Tainting it?” I make a show of running my hand over the blades of grass closest to me.

His scowl deepens. “Your presence is enough to—”

“Did you forget that I have a valkyrie ancestor somewhere? Probably far back, I know, but… maybe dial it back a knock, okay? Besides, you should love me.”

“Love you?” he sputters, his blue eyes wide. “Why on earth would I ever do that?”

“Oh, well, maybe because I declared war on Lucifer.”

“You declared war…” The angel gapes at me. “You are crazy. You should be locked up.”

"Okay. Ouch. Someone forgot to teach you manners. I've already been told I'm crazy, but to add that locked-up part? That's just harsh."

“Maybe it was,” he admits, “but—”

I wave his almost apology away. “It’s hilarious that you think I’m crazy, though. You think I’m the crazy one when you think my presence is going to foul up this place. I’m not diseased. I’m not going to spread sin everywhere I go just by touching things. Touch, touch, touch.” I touch the grass, teleport over to touch a tree touch, and then teleport to Christopher’s side and touch him, placing my elbow on his shoulder.

He grimaces and jerks his shoulder away. I start to fall, just to prove a point, and he lets me, so I recover—because, of course, I don't want to fall down—and I narrow my eyes at him.

“You know, you really don’t act like an angel,” I say dryly.

Christopher throws up his hands. “That’s the entire point I’m trying to make!”

“I’m forcing you to act like a terrible person? No, no, dude. That’s on you, buddy. Not me. You’re the one with hate in your heart.”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“Nah. I don’t know you enough to hate you.” I tilt my head to the side. “I don’t care about you enough to hate you.”

“Caring and hate don’t go hand in hand.”

“Ah, that’s what you would think, but…” I wag a finger at him. “That’s not the case. If you don’t care, then you’re apathetic, and if you’re apathetic, then you just plum don’t hate.”

“So basically, it’s not worth your time to hate me,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, that’s about right. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You’re annoying—”

“Me?” he exclaims.

“See? You’re always trying to make things about you!” I throw back my head and laugh. It’s really far too easy to get under his wings.

“What are you doing here?” He spreads out his wings, all white and feathery. I’m not sure when he assumed his angel form. Maybe he’d been in it all along. I haven’t been paying him much attention.

“Why do you care if I’m on Earth or in Hell? Is it just this specific spot that you have an issue with? Which, by the way, of course, makes me want to stay all the more. You do realize that, right?”

“Such a spiteful creature,” he spits out.

“So much venom for one who is supposed to rise above all that, aren’t you?” I ask, my tone sickeningly sweet.

“If you really meant what you said, if you aren’t lying…”

"Oh, about the war. That's what you mean? You want me to hurry up and rush matters, so I'll die. Wow. Would you go to my funeral? So long as you don't die in Hell, you might be able to leave it again."

He eyes me silently a moment. “You really want to fight your father. Do you know what his death would mean?”

“Without Lucifer, there is no Hell. There will be no demons. It would mean the end of this world.”

“For a new one would be reborn,” he breathes.

“Yes, but I’m not ready to die yet, and I won’t be able to kill Lucifer.”

“What, then, is the point of your war?”

“Hmm.” I tap a finger to my chin. “I would answer that, but then I would have to kill you. Ya see, that’s the kind of question I should discuss with those on my war council, and since your type doesn’t do wars… Oh, wait, that isn’t true, is it? You all hide your wings away to fight in the Crusades, didn’t you?”

He stiffens to the point that his back has got to be hurting him. “You should not proceed to judge—”

“I shouldn’t judge? I? That’s all you do. In fact, I’m going to call you Judge Christopher. Judge Chris. You like the sound of that?”

“Must you mock everything?”

“No, I don’t have to do anything. That’s the beauty of life.”

His eyes narrow. “Do you even have free will?”

"Do you think Lucifer is controlling me? That he wants me to declare war on him? Maybe he wants me to unite my brothers and sisters against him so that he can kill us all in one fell swoop. You'd like that, wouldn't you? But then he would just find other women to give him children. He'd start all over again. Why he bothers to even have children in the first place, I don't understand. He just turns around and kills us eventually. From what I've been told, all of his children do this at some point, rise up, fight him. Why would he want that?"

“What else does any demon want? Any excuse for carnage, killing, depravity…”

"You think all demons are the same, don't you? We're just servants and minions of Lucifer, who only ever do what he wants." I lift my chin. "There has been at least one demon and an angel who came together and had a child, and she's a fierce one, isn't she? She's the best of both sides, isn't she? That's why you watch over her."

Christopher looks away.

“A guardian angel, huh? That’s all you are. You asked me if I have free will. Do you?”

“Of course I do,” he snaps. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t.”

I hold up my arms. “You want to save the world from me, huh? I’m not a threat to this world. Not a threat to you.”

“You aren’t a threat to Lucifer either.”

I smile knowingly at him. “And that’s why I’m here on Earth, Judge Chris. JC! Yes! So, that’s why I’m here. I know I’m not a threat yet, not to him, but I will be. I will be.”

CHAPTER 4

The angel says nothing, and for once, I can’t tell if he’s judging me. His normally easy-to-read face is impassive, emotionless, expressionless.

“Until then…” I continue. “Until I’m a threat to Lucifer, go ahead. Lay it at me. Tell me some of your beliefs about demons, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

“Demons can’t tell the truth.”

“That’s absurd. The best lies contain the truth, but that’s easy enough to disprove.” I wink at him. “You’re actually somewhat handsome.”

“That’s subjective,” he sputters.

“Fine. The sky is blue.”

He rolls his eyes. “A deep truth.”

I throw up my hands. “Because telling you about Lucifer killing his previous children isn’t a deep truth!”

“That happened before you were born.”

“Fine. A great personal truth about myself…” My gaze falls on my hellhounds. They’re rolling around in the grass, creating tiny, mini fires all over the place, their playing around putting out most of them. “I care about Demonfang and Shadechomp more than I do my siblings.”

I watch them a minute longer before turning my gaze to JC. He’s observing my hellhounds, a curious expression on his face.

“What other demonic beliefs do you have? Excuse me, other beliefs that you have concerning demons?” I ask, my tone saccharine again.

“It is impossible for a demon to die of old age because your kind is so violent and wicked that they are killed before that can happen.”

“Actually… I don’t know if that’s true or not,” I admit with a shrug. “I don’t know a lot of old demons.”

“You’re the daughter of one.”

“I’m not his daughter,” I growl.

JC lifts his eyebrows. “Are you willing to renounce him?” he asks, his blue eyes wide.

I burst out laughing. “What part of going to war with him doesn’t suggest renouncing?” I ask.

“You really don’t consider him your father anymore?”

“I don’t want to be associated with him anymore, no.”

“You do realize that…” He makes a face. “Being his daughter…”

“Affords me certain protections? Yes, I realize that. Why do you think I’m trying to think here on Earth?”

“Why this spot, though? Out of any of the spots here on Earth, you came here. Why?”

“I didn’t have this spot in mind. I just grabbed my pups and came here. Drawn to it, maybe. I’m sure you think I’m lying, but… I didn’t know this place ever existed, and until you showed up, I thought it rather peaceful.”

He harrumphs.

“What? Didn’t think a demon could know peace?”

“No,” he says, a ring of honesty in his tone.

“Well, I don’t just know it. There are actually times when I… gasp!” I cover my mouth for a moment before touching my cheek. “I actually crave it!”

“Demons can’t crave peace. Peace is the exact antithesis of what you desire.”

“Not me and not all the time,” I say smugly. “You can’t believe we’re just mindless minions of darkness.”

“I’m surprised you don’t burn in the sunlight.”

“Not a vampire, and besides, that’s not true, is it?”

“They’re weak in the sunlight.”

“Not the same for demons. I’m sure that truth plagues you.”

His nostrils flare.

“My turn to ask you a question.” I jut my chin toward him. “You ever fight a demon? Ever kill one?”

“I fail to see how that is any of your concern,” he says stiffly.

"So… either you killed one and feel guilty about it, which is why you don't want to talk about it, or you didn't, and you feel guilty that you haven't. Which is it?" I tap a finger to my cheek a few times. "If I have to guess…"

“You don’t have to concern yourself with me,” he says, still just as stiff as ever.

"Yet, you keep concerning yourself with me and my business. Why is that? It's not as if Earth is your domain. Heaven is. Go on, Fly Boy. Head on home to all the other angels before I corrupt you."

“You couldn’t corrupt me if you tried.”

“Hmm. You better not tempt me,” I tease. “You really should consider who you’re talking to.”

“I know exactly who I’m talking to.”

“So you claim, but… You don’t even know the truth about demons. I bet you think demons can’t feel empathy either.”

“There’s no way demons can feel empathy,” he protests.

I smirk. “Turn around.”

“I’m not going to have my back face you.”

“Do it. Pick an emotion. I’ll sense it. I don’t want you to claim that I’m reading your facial expression.”

“I don’t—”

“I know you don’t trust me,” I say softly. “You aren’t a fool, and you clearly don’t trust me, which is why you’re keeping tabs on me when I come to Earth, but seriously, aren’t you the least bit curious as to whether or not I’m telling the truth?”

“Demons…”

“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “We lie when we have to.”

“No one ever has to lie,” he protests.

“You’ve never told a friend his or her haircut looks great when it really doesn’t? No little white lies?”

“No.”

“Liar,” I tease.

“You think you’re funny.”

“I think you should do this.”

“I don’t know why I’m bothering,” JC mumbles to himself as he turns around.

“Let me know when you…” I trail off as I try to sense his emotions. He’s a range of them—annoyance, confusion, doubt.

But slowly, a sense of peace fills him, probably stemming from the quiet stillness of this place, and even though I can’t see his face, I know he’s smiling.

Without any warning, Leo is here. Well, not quite here. He’s beyond where the light of the field is, and my gaze shifts from my brother to JC, who whirls around. The angel is scowling, his nostrils flaring, and my stomach sinks. What if Leo’s over there because he can’t set foot on sacred land? And I clearly can… maybe because of the valkyrie blood in me.

“Come away from this place,” Leo calls. “It’s time for you to get started.”

“Ah, of course. Why does it not surprise me that the warmonger wants to encourage the war between me and Lucifer?” I ask dryly. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Naturally.” Leo flashes his teeth. They’re sharp, not like a vampire’s but not quite a human’s either. “What are you waiting for? An open invitation?”

“You don’t have to worry. It will all come together.”

“Who’s this?” Leo juts his chin toward the angel.

“This?” I wave a hand toward him. “This is JC.”

“Do not call me that!” JC fumes.

“But it’s perfect for you! You’re so judgy and—”

“You can’t go to war with Lucifer.”

I’m not sure which shocks me more—that JC doesn’t like my nickname for him, which is so perfect, by the way, or that he doesn’t want the war.

“Are you scared for me?” I ask, snorting a laugh. “You don’t have to be. I know you hate me. You don’t have to pretend that you care about my immortal soul.”

JC—er, Christopher—narrows his eyes. “You shouldn’t go to war with Lucifer, and if you insist on that, you shouldn’t be here on Earth at least.”

“Hmm.” Leo flies over without bothering to make his wings visible.

I exhale a sigh of relief. That he’s able to fly above this land means it’s not warded against demons.

Although he hasn't landed at all, so he hasn't set foot on the sacred ground, so maybe that's just a loophole…

Before Leo can continue, because I’m sure that “Hmm” of his means he has something to say, I blurt out, “You’re the warmonger, Leo. You want to encourage this war? Fine. Pick a side.”

“That’s a very dangerous game you’re playing,” he warns me. “Why should I side with you?”

“Why shouldn’t you? Just think about it. Think about what you could do if you didn’t have to worry about Father’s hot breath breathing down your neck. You could do anything, start any war… You know he’s been discouraging certain wars you’ve wanted to start.”

He flares his nostrils. “All he gives me is the Middle East, and honestly, they don’t need any nudging on my part to keep up those quarrels.”

“Boring, right? But imagine what you could do—”

“Are you trying to encourage—” Christopher starts.

“This is demon talk,” I say shortly.

The angel’s fuming. It’s adorable. If he were a cartoon, his face would be even redder, and smoke would be coming out of his ears. The mental image makes me grin at him, which might soften my words accidentally, but then I throw in a wink, and he huffs and crosses his arms. He’s as strong as any of my brothers. As much as angels like to think they’re above fighting and wars, they clearly must have a gym in Heaven because he’s stacked, all muscular and strong, powerful enough to thrust a sword straight through bones to reach the heart.

Hmm. Heartbreaker might be a better nickname for him.

“You’re encouraging another war! On top of a war that will spell doom—”

“Spell doom for who, Heartbreaker?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “Me, most likely, if we’re being honest. And you don’t really care about me, so… no sweat off your back, right? Do angels even sweat? I bet you prefer the term dewy, don’t you?”

Leo looks between me and the still-fuming angel and slowly shakes his head.

“What?” I snap, agitated enough that Leo came here in the first place and is interrupting my conversation with Christopher. I don’t like the angel particularly, but I also don’t want him to think badly of me. He’s been fed to hate demons since he was first given wings, and so beliefs are probably comical. I want to dissuade him of them.

Actually, I would prefer for them both to leave so my hellhounds and I can return to our peace.

A demon who wants peace and quiet.

But only because that demon wants to plot war.

Christopher flares his nostrils. “You have no idea what you are doing.”

“Aw! Are you concerned for me?” I clasp my hands and slam them to my chest. “That’s so sweet. You’re gonna break my heart, aren’t you, Heartbreaker?”

“Will you stop calling me that?” he snaps.

I smile innocently and bat my eyes. “You disagree with my nickname? Why? You haven’t broken a heart yet? You hate that you broke someone’s heart? Or someone broke your heart or…”

“My heart is none of your concern, Demon Spawn,” he says.

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “Nah. You need to work on your originality, bub.”

“Because Heartbreaker is so original!”

“We can go back to the first one. JC.”

Christopher’s face clouds over, but then, he visibly brightens. “Fine, Brynhild.”

I still. My face has to go ashen white. No, he didn't. He didn't just call me one of the most famous valkyries of all time.

Leo coughs. “Did you two forget that I’m here? Or do you two want to get a room or something?”

Flirting. He thinks we’re flirting. Good. Kind of. A lot he’s not reading too much into the valkyrie name thing. I am not ready for my siblings to find out about that part of me, not now and maybe not ever.

“If you care for this… being…” Leo rolls his eyes before his expression turns serious. “You should keep him away from Lily.”

I just roll my eyes. “Get lost, Leo. I’ll do my thing. None of you have to worry about me, got it? Go ahead and tell the others that, too, for me, will ya?”

Leo smirks. “As if any of them listen to me or you or anyone.”

But he gives me a wave, ignores the angel entirely, and poof! he’s gone.

CHAPTER 5

I turn to Christopher. “Boy, am I glad he’s gone! Now, where were we before he so rudely interrupted us? Ah, yes. The exercise in empathy. You—”

“Lydia, you have to stop this. All of it.” His eyes are flashing, but his gaze shifts away as if he’s afraid someone else is going to appear. “I don’t want to meet any more of your family.”

“Good. Fair warning, though, Lily, the one he mentioned, she’s a succubus, so if you don’t want to be corrupted…” I shrug one shoulder. “You might want to avoid contact with her.”

“I don’t want to have to do that.”

“You don’t want to avoid contact with her?” I ask.

“I don’t want to have to avoid contact with her because I don’t want any contact with her or your family.”

“Or me either, right? Even though you were able to feel a sense of peace in my presence earlier, before Leo came, right? That’s what you felt.”

Christopher shakes his head.

“You know you did. Don’t deny it just because you don’t want to admit that I’m right!”

“It’s this place,” he mutters. “It’s the place. It’s calming. It… Nowhere else would I feel like this. Nowhere else with you.”

“So, I was right, huh?” I wink at him. “Go on. Say it. It’s only fair.”

“I’d rather not.”

“But…”

Christopher stares up at the clouds. “You weren’t wrong,” he mutters, “but it’s not true now.”

“No, now you feel…” I blow out a breath. “You distrust me.”

“That’s a no-brainer.”

I throw up my hands. “It’s not my fault your emotions are so basic.”

He glowers at me. “Are you really trying to pretend that that whole thing with your brother didn’t happen? Did you even hear yourself? Encouraging war as if it’s nothing? So many lives are lost with every war!”

“You have no idea what I have planned.”

“I thought you came here because you don’t have one!”

“Okay, true. I don’t have a plan entirely formulated yet, but I know what my end goal is. I just need that plan, and… I came here because I sought a place where I could form a plan in peace. Maybe subconsciously, I knew about this place, or maybe my blood—”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I snap. “Oh, and that whole nickname thing you tried to pull… Don’t you dare call me that ever again.”

“Fine, damned valkyrie.”

I wince. “That’s not any better.”

He appraises me silently for a long moment. “Your siblings don’t know, do they?”

Wordlessly, I shake my head.

“And you want to keep it that way.”

“They would… They wouldn’t even think about joining me if they knew,” I mumble. “I might need them—”

“You can’t go to war. It won’t stay in Hell. You’ll see to that.”

I roll my eyes. “Just because I want to try to figure things out here on Earth doesn’t mean that the war will bleed over to Earth.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means. You’ll destroy everything, and you’ll start the apocalypse.”

I smirk and bark a bitter laugh. “You have to realize that’s the last thing I want.”

His gaze shifts to our surroundings, and his posture shifts, more standoffish, as if he’s gearing up for a battle. “You need to go.”

“No. You go.”

“Now.”

I follow his gaze and suck in a breath. The light shining through the clouds streams down to form a perfect starburst at a particular spot on the ground. It’s a brilliant light, dazzling, blinding, and the sight of it takes my breath away.

“That’s the exact spot where Gabriel’s feet first touched the Earth, isn’t it?” I ask, approaching it, walking toward it as if in a daze.

“Lydia, go to Hell.”

The angel grabs my elbow, forcing me back a step.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap, bringing up my left hand, not forming an energy orb, not yet at least.

“You aren’t welcome here.”

“You want me gone to Hell? Drag me there yourself,” I hiss. “I’m not leaving unless I want to.”

"You think you're so self-important, don't you? Like you can do no wrong. You have no idea how the real world works, and you don't know the ramifications of your actions. You're… Your entire family… You're a blight, a sickness, a disease."

"You know what's just as dangerous as sin and vices? Having a stick up your ass and not realizing that people can't be perfect all of the time. People make mistakes. They fall down time and again, but they keep on going. They keep trying time and again, and they learn, and they grow, and they survive, and they adapt. But sometimes, that's only possible because of hitting rock bottom first. Without the failures, most success can't ever happen."

“You act as if that excuses everything—”

"People sin, but it doesn't mean they're evil. It means they're fallible. That doesn't mean they're terrible. People are complicated, but you know who isn't?" My smirk has to be huge. "Angels and their pompous, judging ways. You want to tell me angels haven't ever avenged anything? Yeah, right. Sure. You can't look like you do unless you're training for something. You're training for war, aren't you?"

“The apocalypse could happen at any time,” he states coolly.

“And you’ll fight and kill every demon that you can because you want Hell destroyed. I get it. I do, but…” I roll my eyes. “You won’t believe me, but not all demons are evil, and I’m willing to bet that not all angels are good.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hisses.

“Hmm. I’m pretty sure there had been a girl… a vampire with some demon blood in her. She died, went to Hell, all of that, but she managed to leave Hell. She’s alive again, isn’t she? Or did you and your winged avengers go out and kill her because she shouldn’t have been given a second chance at life?”

“You’re talking about…”

“Romelia? Rumelia? Romilda? I don’t know. Something like that.”

“She fell in love with a werewolf,” he muses.

I blink a few times. “Whoa. And I thought a demon and an angel were a strange match.”

“You can do your thinking elsewhere, Lydia.”

“Yeah, yeah. You told me to go to Hell. I don’t have to take orders from you.”

It’s only now that I realize he’s still holding onto my arm. The hellhounds have stopped playing. They’re watching us with interest, but they aren’t approaching us, so I doubt they’ll help if this turns dark and deadly.

And I have a feeling it’s heading that way.

I step closer to the angel. "Do you think you can go toe to toe with me? It might be a good warm-up for the showdown with Daddy Dearest."

Christopher flares his nostrils.

“What is it?” I mock. “You don’t fight women? Valkyries fight. They don’t just guide dead souls to Heaven. They can kill, and they’re legendary fighters, better even than angels and the… What’s the name of your army?”

“Heavenly host.”

“Hmm. Just how righteous are the angels if they have a name for their army.”

“The hordes of evil demons—”

"What? We need the angels? We have to repent in order to be saved?" I grab his white shirt that's only half-buttoned, yanking him to me. "Save me, Christopher!"

With a laugh, I go to shove him away, but his grip tightens on my wrist as he brings my arm up, trying to force me down.

I go down, just a little, and then I shoot in, grab him around the back of his knees, plowing ahead and driving him to the ground. Before I can take the mount position on top of him, his wings flare out, and he’s flying, holding me up by the straps of my bodysuit.

We’re so close that I can see that there are gold flecks in his eyes. Of course there are. Angels and their stupid good looks.

“You need to leave,” he spits out.

“You’re too concerned about the earth and its people,” I say, “when you should be concerned about yourself.”

And I shake my shoulders a bit, allowing my demonic wings to burst out of my back. In doing so, his hold on me is loose enough that I'm flying near him instead of him holding me up.

“You leave me be,” I say evenly, “and I’ll ignore you and yours.”

“I can’t allow that.”

“It’s not your choice.”

“You have no place here.”

“Not your call.”

“You’re Lucifer’s—”

“I’m not Lucifer’s anything. I’ve denounced him.”

“Not good enough.”

“Not. Your. Call.”

I can’t say why I do it, why I don’t just blast him with my magic, but my hand’s already curled into a fist that strikes his perfect, strong, angular jaw. Shock flashes in his blue eyes until his head’s turned around, and I don’t see his eyes anymore.

Before I can gloat, though, he launches himself at me, and I just manage to duck from his hook punch, and I uppercut right into his belly. I can feel a whoosh of air leave his lungs, but that doesn’t rightly matter because he grabs my shoulders and slams his knee right into my gut, returning the favor.

“You’re lucky I haven’t eaten recently,” I wheeze as I pull away, staggering as I fly around him warily.

He spins about to follow me as I circle him. “You aren’t any different than any of the others to come before you. You’re ambitious and—”

“I don’t care what you think.”

“You may have Clarissa fooled—”

“You’re the fool if you can’t see that people—humans, angels, demons—we’re all complicated. We’re all good and evil—”

“You were raised by your father, right? Your father is—”

“He is not just a demon. He’s a fallen angel.”

“He has nothing angel about him now.”

“Of course you would think that.”

“If you thought there was good in him, you wouldn’t want to overthrow him.”

“I don’t want Hell to be destroyed.”

“Hell is wicked. It’s a terrible, vile place. It’s…”

“You’ve never been there, so you don’t know what it’s like.”

“You need to stop.”

“Stop what? Stop making sense? Afraid we’ll become friends? That cohorting with me will darken your soul? That one day, you won’t be able to get through the Pearly Gates?” I tilt my head to the side. “Is the Pearly Gates thing real? Or is that just an expression?”

“You’ll never know,” he says evenly, “and we aren’t friends.”

“Right. Maybe if you were a little less judgy.”

“And maybe you aren’t enough Brynhild.”

I snort. “Do you even know about Brynhild?”

“You do?”

“Her story is tragic.”

“She killed with reckless abandon and was punished for it.” Christopher’s still breathing heavy, but I am too. He’s strong. Incredibly so.

“She had to marry a human, but she still held out for love. Too bad she’d been tricked.”

“She had some kind of game for a guy to come to her to win her heart. He accomplished that.”

“But she wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to try to be a hero or some such.” I roll my eyes. “He ran afoul of a witch, I think, who stole his memories, and he married someone else. When Brynhild found out, she was furious and had him killed. She married some other guy who did it, right? And then she killed herself.”

Christopher wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I didn’t make him bleed, did I?

“How do you know all of that?” he asks.

"Where do you think Brynhild ended up?" I murmur. "Once, my hellhounds ran off to fetch the stick I threw, and when they never came back, I followed after them to bring them home. She was there, and she told me her story." I eye Christopher. "Angels are all about love, or so they say, but love isn't everything. Even love can be twisted, ruined, wronged."

“Love is pure. What Brynhild felt—”

“What she felt had been real,” I snap. “It’s been how long since she lived, but her pain is still real, and it’s not because she’s in Hell. Her love was and still is real. It was that human who hurt her.”

“If his love had been real, then that witch’s spell should not have lasted. Once they met again—him and Brynhild—the spell should have been broken.”

“Wouldn’t it have needed true love’s kiss?” I ask, zooming up to Christopher, my lips inches from his.

At the same time, our hands grab each other’s throats, and our battle begins again, as before only with our bodies, not with swords or daggers.

Hmm. Since I have valkyrie blood in me, maybe I should get a spear. And a shield. A demonic shield-maiden. I like the sound of that.

CHAPTER 6

I'm bruised and bleeding, but so is Christopher. His lip is split from the first punch or the fifth, I'm not sure.

He gears up to throw another hook punch. Seriously. He swings them way too wide, telegraphing them all the way, and I duck under and shoot around to his back, wrapping my right arm around his throat, but he digs his chin into my elbow, grabbing my arm with both hands, and bending at the waist, flipping me over his back. I keep my arm around his neck as best as I can, but it’s being bent the wrong way, and I have to shift so I’m facing him or else it’ll snap, which means releasing him.

“Enough!”

The voice is familiar, male. Another angel.

Christopher backs off immediately, listening like a good, little boy. Just for fun, I punch him in his stomach, but he had his muscles tightened as if he expected the attack. He hadn't felt it at all, but I sure did. His abs must be seriously impressive. Not that I would be impressed by them.

“Marlon,” Christopher says stiffly.

Marlon stands on the grass beneath us. The dazzling light that had highlighted the spot where Gabriel first touched down is gone. In fact, twilight has fallen. My hellhounds lay sleeping on the grass, their heads all entangled, casting more light than the stars starting to appear above our heads.

Christopher lowers down, but I remain flying, not willing to… I don’t know. I’m not sure what Marlon wants from me, what I’m willing to do. Not fighting is one thing, but I like it here in this spot. Well, I did before Christopher showed up. And Leo. His appearance didn’t help matters any. If only he would’ve agreed to be on my side… I planted the seed, though, so maybe he’s thinking about it. I can hope.

Yes. Demons can hope. I bet that’s something Christopher doesn’t think is possible.

“You should leave,” Marlon says to Christopher calmly.

“I’m not,” I declare.

Christopher glares at me. “You…”

“I have free will, and I don’t have to do what you say.” I blow him a kiss. “Ciao!”

If looks could kill… Who knew that angels have mastered that look?

Christopher flies off, and I eye Marlon, hoping he’ll leave. He won’t give me grief for being here, will he? Marlon’s a half-angel, so maybe he’s not as uptight about everything.

Marlon motions for me to land, and I warily do.

“Why are you here?” I ask sharply.

“Because you are.”

“So even if Christopher hadn’t come to bother me, you would’ve?”

“Yes, actually.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Why?”

“To talk to you.”

“To judge me, you mean.”

“Why are you here?” He glances around. “I’ve never been here before.”

“According to Christopher, it’s the spot where Gabriel first touched down on Earth.”

“That would explain a lot.”

I shrug and say nothing.

“You want to be here, why? You need peace?”

“You didn’t overhear my conversation with Christopher at all, did you?”

“No. I don’t make it a habit to drop eaves.”

I roll my eyes. “Who says that? Come on, man.”

“What are you worried about my overhearing?” he asks.

“I’m not worried about anything.”

He tilts his head to the side, appraising me. “You can tell me anything.”

I snort. “I don’t really know you, buddy.”

“You can trust me.”

“Why? You’re a half-angel. That means you’re half-human.”

"So you're assuming that I'm lying? Is that what you're saying?"

I shrug one shoulder and make a face.

“You shouldn’t judge,” he says with a wry smile.

I narrow my eyes. “You did eavesdrop!”

“Or maybe it’s a bit obvious what a demon wouldn’t like from an angel.”

My nostrils flare a bit. “I don’t understand what you want from me. You want me to, what, confess everything? Why?”

“Maybe I can help you.”

“Why? Why would you want to? You don’t know me.”

"You care about Clarissa, which proves that you aren't a typical demon."

“Because demons never care about anyone but themselves.” I huff and cross my arms.

“Let’s just say that you intrigue me, and I have a feeling you aren’t the kind to just do whatever your father wants.”

I swallow hard. “You got that right,” I admit. “I don’t… I declared war on Lucifer. He doesn’t think I’m serious, and I don’t have a plan yet, but… I… I’ll…”

“Do you want some advice?”

I make a face. Seriously? Who is this guy? What is he doing here? Trying to talk to me as, I don’t know, a father figure of some kind? But he’s only seventeen years older than I am. Well, I guess that’s technically old enough to be my dad, but it’s weird.

“I just want to have some time here. It’s nice and peaceful. I mean, look at them.” I gesture to my still-sleeping hellhounds. They never sleep like that. It’s adorable.

“Clarissa’s talked to Lucifer.”

“I know.” But I shake my head. “She has to stay in Bethlehem.”

“She doesn’t like to be told what to do.”

“Yeah? I’m not sure there’s a girl alive who likes to be told what to do,” I say with a smirk. “But if you want to go and talk to Clarissa…”

He shakes his head, ruefully smiling. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Why not?” I whine. “This doesn’t affect you at all.”

“Have you thought about what might happen if you win, though? It very well could affect me.”

“You think… You think I have a chance?” I ask suspiciously. He’s playing me, right? What’s his angle? What’s he hoping to get out of this?

“Depends on your end goal,” he says calmly.

“And you want to know everything I’ve been thinking about.”

“That’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”

“I think I need more time to think first,” I say sweetly. “So if you could just go ahead and let me have some time to think… I’ll get back to ya.”

“You can’t go after him alone,” he says.

Yeah, like I didn’t know that already, but I say nothing.

“You’re going to have to watch your back. There’s a chance—a good chance—that he’ll try to trick you, will backstab you, maybe literally.”

“He won’t get the chance, but, ah, thanks for telling me stuff I already know. I think I might know Lucifer a bit better than you do,” I say dryly. “But, ah, nice chat. See you around.”

If he won’t leave, then I will.

I head over to the hellhounds. I’ll have to wake them. They don’t like being teleported while sleeping.

“You need to—” he starts.

“Hold up.” I hold up a hand. “You need to know that I do not like being told what to do, and I’m not sure why I should trust you. I trust Clarissa, yes, and I know you saved her, so maybe I should, but what if you’re playing the long game? What if you aren’t even Marlon at all? You just need to bugger off, okay?”

“No,” he says simply.

“No?”

I roll my eyes. Why am I not surprised that he’s refusing to listen to me? No one ever listens to me or takes me seriously, and they’re going to pay for that, especially Lucifer.

“You can’t be too hasty,” he starts.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re concerned I’m going to get myself killed. Got it. You think I’m a baby, that I have to be watched. Got it. What you need to get is that I don’t need your concern, and I don’t need you or anyone else to watch me. I’m going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure you feel that way, but allies—”

"Why would you even want to align yourself with me? Don't you realize that you might as well paint a huge bulls-eye on your back if you do that? You should stick to Bethlehem, where it's nice and safe."

His nostrils flare, and he crosses his arms. "Maybe I'm tired of doing that while the world around me is falling apart every year, it seems."

“Yeah, a lot has gone on, hasn’t it?” I eye him. “I heard about that human, Rebel, who put together a legion. Clarissa was a part of that, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“You weren’t, were you?”

His scowl is only there for a moment, so fast that I almost didn’t think I actually saw it.

“Huh. You’re used to being the babysitter, huh? Is that what this is about? Clarissa ran off and got to be a hero, and you had to make sure things stayed all hunky dorky in Bethlehem, am I right?”

“You aren’t wrong,” he says.

I throw up my hands. “Why is it so hard to just say, ‘You’re right, Lydia.’”

“Might as well ask people to say, ‘You’re amazing, Lydia.’”

“Well, everyone knows that’s true, so it doesn’t have to be said,” I say with a wry grin.

“Are you hungry?” he asks abruptly. Maybe he’s sensing that I’m about ready to leave since he clearly isn’t going to. “I know this place that has amazing cheesesteaks. It’s not too far from Bethlehem.”

I eye him. Yes, actually, I am hungry, but I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to get me to cave, to continue talking to him.

Why? Does he think it’s not safe for me to be here on Earth? Does he think I’m incapable of handling things? That I need to be babysat?

I mean, yeah, he’s probably a good guy. He saved Clarissa’s life, and I have to give her a lot of credit. She’s the half-angel, half-demon, and she made a deal with Lucifer and survived. Seemingly has a good end of the deal, too. Lucifer and no other demons can set foot into her city. She’s saved Bethlehem time and again, I’m sure.

So, I kind of trust Marlon. Well, as much as I trust anyone, which isn’t a whole lot. People only ever let you down. You can only count on yourself.

Well, and you can also count on your hellhounds if you're lucky enough to have any.

My heart bursts with pride as I bend down to touch their sleeping heads. They aren’t fully grown yet, and they’re the runts of their litters, which is why they only have two heads each instead of three, but I love them. For me, they’re proof that demons can love.

“I’ll buy,” Marlon offers. “Of course. I suggested eating, after all, and… Can your hellhounds handle cheese? I know some dogs are intolerant of cheese.”

“They can eat cheese. I mean, they prefer to gnaw on bones…” I say, just to get a rise out of him.

Marlon merely smiles. “I’ll buy them cheesesteaks too. How does that sound?”

“Fine,” I grumble. “Do they have fries? I like fries with my cheesesteaks.”

“Ah, so you’ve had cheesesteaks before, huh?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Honestly, Lydia, I’m not sure there’s anything you could say that would surprise me.”

Hmm. I’m sure I can think of something.

CHAPTER 7

My hellhounds are cranky. They’re tired yet, and they don’t want to leave the Golden Expanse, and honestly, I don’t blame them. I don’t want to leave here either. Honestly, I have to wonder if this is another spot on Earth that Lucifer can’t traverse, but no. He can come here, I think, but I also think he hasn’t come here ever.

“Are we going to teleport there?” I ask.

“Well, unless your hellhounds can sprout wings…”

I grin devilishly. “Maybe they can.”

Marlon shudders. “I don’t think I would like to see flying hellhounds.”

“Why not? Little bundles of flying dogs raining fire down. Could be kind of cute.”

We teleport there, my allowing Marlon to guide us to the destination. We arrive in the parking lot, behind the place. I can hear a lot of cars driving by the street out front.

“Will they be all right out here?” I ask Marlon.

“You would know better than me.”

“I’d rather take them inside with us, but I doubt that they’ll be happy about it.”

Demonfang tilts his head in opposite directions looking at me. Shadechomp is panting and giving me puppy dog looks.

With a grin, I wave them ahead.

Yipping, they bang into each other, racing up a ramp to the door. Marlon and I trail behind them.

Marlon goes to open the door, but I shake my head and kneel down.

“Demonfang, Shadechomp, listen,” I say as they lick my face with their tongues. “There are humans here. Can you pretend to be like dogs? It’ll only be for a bit. That way, you can eat with us. Otherwise, you would have to wait until we’re done, and I don’t think you want that, do you?”

They stare at each other’s four heads and then back to me, and each head barks their acquiesce. Immediately, they act the part of docile, perfect little doggies.

I meet Marlon’s gaze and smirk at the flicker of surprise on his face.

With a shrug, he opens the door for us. My hellhounds wait for me to enter first. I don’t bother to change the appearance of my clothes, wearing my boots, cape, and bodysuit like normal, but my hellhounds not only are behaving like dogs, they look like them too.

The waitress walking by tilts her head to the right side of the place. "Go ahead and find a…" She stares at the dogs at my feet.

“They can stay with me,” I tell her firmly, using a bit of demonic influence.

“They can stay with you,” she says, not in a robotic tone, but her normal one. Hmm. Maybe I didn’t need to convince her magically after all.

I move to the side so Marlon can pick a spot. Honestly, the lighting is a little dim when you come in, and I wonder where the stairs right by the door lead to, but I follow Marlon to the right. He picks a booth in the back right beneath a massive blue fish on the wall. At least it’s brighter over here.

The waitress comes over, and Marlon orders four cheesesteaks and two things of fries that I bump up to four. She asks about sauce—yes, please—and pickles. No for me, but yes for everyone else.

“Drinks?” she asks.

Marlon glances at me.

“I’ll just have water,” I say.

“The dogs too?” she asks.

“Please.”

Marlon blinks a few times, and I just give him a look that says, what else would they drink?

“A pitcher of water would be fine,” he says.

She walks away.

I lean toward him. “What else would you drink?”

“I have been known, on occasion, to drink alcohol at times.”

“Really? Must be the half-human side of ya.”

The place isn’t empty, but no one is paying us any attention. Marlon doesn’t react at all to my saying that. Does he know no one overheard, or is he just trusting me? I can’t tell, and honestly, I don’t know if I want him to trust me. That’s… strange and a bit unsettling.

The waitress brings over the pitcher, two glasses, and two bowls. She fills the dogs’ bowls first and sets them on the ground.

Before she can walk away, I say, “You better tip her well.”

The waitress laughs, and so does Marlon.

She walks away, and I glance at Marlon’s left hand. “Why not ask for her number too?” I suggest.

“No.”

“Why not? Do you know her? Did you date her before and it not work out?”

“Some people are meant to be alone.”

“What? You just want to be a lazy bachelor your whole life?”

“Being a bachelor doesn’t mean that I’m necessarily lazy. I’m a detective.”

“Yes, yes, a big, bad detective.” I wave my hands as if I’m frightened. “Have you ever gone out on a date? You’re, what, thirty-six? Thirty-seven?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Please tell me you—”

Without warning, the ground starts to quake. My hellhounds stop slurping up their water and stare at me, waiting for me to tell them what to do, but I just stand, placing my hand over the top of my glass so it'll stop rattling and won't spill.

“What’s going on?” another customer asks.

“An earthquake, clearly,” Marlon states. “Everyone, stay away from the windows and any glass.”

The waitress rushes back over. “The tables aren’t sturdy enough—”

Another quake shifts the ground beneath us. This is turning into one horrific earthquake. Glass shatters from the windows, spraying glass everywhere.

Lucifer. I grind my teeth. I have no doubt at all that it’s him. He’s trying to get to me. As irritating as the angel can be, no wonder Christopher didn’t want me to be here on Earth, and I guess I get that, but I also don’t really know how to wage war against my father.

Except to try to stop him.

“Marlon,” I bark as I stand.

My hellhounds immediately come to stand as guard dogs on either side of me.

He just gives me a look.

Right. As if I need to tell an angel that we have to save the people here.

The customers are screaming. One’s crying, and I can smell blood. Marlon heads over as I guide the others outside.

When I come back in, clanging has me making my way to the kitchen. A quick glance around reveals that no one is stupid and remaining inside, but the ground is shaking again, even harder and longer than before, and pots and pans are falling everywhere.

A scream from above me has me fleeing the kitchen—probably the worst place to be doing an earthquake—and I pound up the stairs I saw when we first entered Crossroads. Seems to me this place is or was a hotel, and I direct them all down the stairs, only one woman won’t go.

“My son,” she cries, pointing beneath the bed.

"We're not supposed to leave when there's an earthquake," he wails. He's maybe six, clinging to a bedpost.

“Get out,” I growl to the mother.

She shakes her head, trembling from head to toe. “I… I won’t…”

I grab her shoulders. “Trust me. I’ll get him. Leave.”

The woman is strong-willed and fiercely protective, and she struggles against my compulsion, but she’s only human, and my glower has her inching back toward the hallway.

I bend down. “Either you come out, brat, or my dogs are going to help me.”

“Wh-What dogs?”

I let out a low whistle, and my hellhounds bound up the stairs to me.

“You’re scaring your poor mama half to death,” I say. “It’s not fair to her.”

“But we were taught in school…”

I glower at him, just as I had his mom, and he scrambles out from beneath the bed, but he doesn’t rush down the stairs. Instead, he plows into me, and I’m so shocked that I almost hug him back before I realize what I’m doing.

“Go on downstairs,” I demand.

He listens, thankfully, and I nod to Demonfang to go after him while Shadechomp and I double-check the place. Another earthquake causes most of the remaining windows to shatter, but I don't see anyone.

Swiftly, I make my way down the stairs and double-check every room before heading outside.

Chaos creates me. It’s almost like I’m back in Hell with all of the screams and people crying. The building across the street has its windows blown out, too, and the traffic light is out. Cars are driving through it as if they’re afraid the ground is going to split open at any moment, and two cars almost hit each other, and down the street, I spy that two already have, so hard that they can’t be taken apart and aren’t able to be moved to the side.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I jerk away.

“It’s only me,” Christopher mutters. He points to a house across the street. “There are people inside.”

“On it.”

Unsure if he’s going to follow me and tag along because he doesn’t trust me, I race across the street, forcing a car to slow down. The driver shoots me the middle finger, and I so want to blast him with an energy orb, but I recall where I am just in time and hold back.

Christopher’s right. There’s a family inside, and they’re huddled in the basement, but the foundation of their house is starting to crack.

“The whole house is going to come crashing down on you if you don’t leave now!” I say urgently.

They don’t have to be told twice, but I can feel the house, the wind, the earth itself. They’re not going to have enough time to go.

“Hustle!” I shout, rushing into their basement around them, and I don’t look behind me to see if they’re watching me as I conjure enough wind to fight back and keep the house upright. My arms are shaking from the physical toll of exhorting so much magic so soon after fighting my siblings, but I hold on. The walls are starting to crack, but I keep the house upright, the walls not falling down, the ceiling not crashing down. I’m not going to last much longer. They’re out of the house, aren’t they? They have to be. They…

“Lydia.”

The word is a whisper on the wind, and I choose to take it as a sign, and I maintain hold on the house only as long as it takes for me to rush out of there.

The entire house comes crashing down the moment I’m outside. The family is still huddled together, but now, they’re staring at the pile of rubble that had been their house.

“Our home…” the mom mutters.

I glower at her. “You’re lucky to be alive,” I snap.

“What about Rex?” the boy asks.

“Rex,” I repeat dully.

“My dog.”

“Your…” I close my eyes a moment and then give a loud, clear whistle.

Demonfang and Shadechomp come running.

I whistle again, and a dog that's half-dead whimpers as he staggers toward us, dragging one paw, keeping another one in the front off the ground.

The boy collapses to hug his dog tight to him, and I can feel a charge in the air. There's going to be another quake and another, all because I'm here.

So even though it means leaving Marlon and Christopher to clean up the mess my father made.

The mess he only made because of me.

I’m just as responsible.

If anyone died, my father could rightfully argue that I’m to blame.

And the ones I tried to save before, the ones Lola killed for the sake of her death cult or whatever reason…

No matter what I do, it seems everyone around me is hellbent on turning my soul darker and darker.

As if they want to wipe out the valkyrie part of me even if they don’t know that part of me exists.

Too bad. I am me. I am the daughter of smoke, and they’re going to cough and choke on me.

They’ll be the ones to die next.

CHAPTER 8

Crossroads is in Hellertown, a spot that’s less than a mile from Bethlehem, and I head to the border between the two, hoping that’ll cause my father to give up the earthquakes, at least for now, considering Bethlehem can’t be touched by him.

I’m not at all surprised to see a police car parked there, and Clarissa climbs out.

She approaches without a warn and removes sunglasses to reveal eyes that are a bit bloodshot.

I hold up a hand before she can leave the grounds of her city. “How are you?”

“You look like you’ve been through a war.”

“Between fighting my siblings, declaring war on my father, his retaliating by causing earthquakes in Hellertown…”

“I had a feeling that was because of you,” she murmurs.

I flinch. “Indirectly. I didn’t mean…”

“You can’t control your father’s actions.”

“Only I can. He clearly doesn’t want me on Earth.”

“But if you go to Hell, that’s his domain, and you won’t have a chance there.”

I snort and roll my eyes. “As if I have a choice.”

She takes a step forward. “I can help—”

“No.” I hold up my hands to… I don’t know. I don’t want to fight her, and I wouldn’t be able to anyhow unless she left Bethlehem Proper, and I don’t want that to happen.

“I’m not going to be a prisoner in my own city,” she spits out through gritted teeth.

“Sorry.” I set my jaw. “I’m not going to let you leave because you need to be protected from my father. You probably have a large bulls-eye on your back.”

“Probably, yes,” she admits, “but I have left before—”

“Before, Lucifer wasn’t thinking about Bethlehem and you.”

“What thinking when the whole thing with Cain went down?”

I bite my lower lip. “He actually wanted Cain to be brought down.”

“Really? Why?”

“Can’t guess?” I scoff.

“Probably because he didn’t like the idea of there being a big, bad walking on the Earth.”

“Specifically one that had been raised from the dead. Lucifer kind of hates when that happens.”

“But Cain was evil,” she protests.

“Competition. There were some humans who learned about what happened and had started to worship him. Lucifer is a complicated being, but he can also be very basic.”

“He was jealous.”

“You betcha.” I eye her. “I just had to transfer some of my demonic life to a dog without touching him so a brat wouldn’t lose both his house and his dog. I’m weaker than I’ve been in a long time, and I don’t know if I can save you, so you just need—”

“I don’t need to be saved,” Clarissa says, her tone almost angry. Yeah, look at that. Her hands are curling into fists. “I can handle myself.”

“You do that. Within Bethlehem.” I wave my hand around to encompass the city.

“Guess what? In three years, Diego and I are going to be celebrating ten years of marriage, and I want to go somewhere exotic to celebrate. I don’t know. I’ve never been to Europe…”

“Yeah, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

"Well, I'm not going to live my life in fear."

“Fine. Be stupid. You can’t just do what you want. Not when you’ve outsmarted Lucifer. He allowed you to leave before because it suited him, but I guarantee you…” My nostrils flare. “We aren’t friends, but there’s a mutual level of respect that might, maybe, just maybe, might be forming between us.”

“I don’t respect you.”

“You can’t separate who my father is from who I am, can you?”

“I did some research,” she says.

“On?”

“That earthquake in Easton.”

I stiffen. “I saved the people.”

“And they all died horrific deaths.”

“That wasn’t me!”

She lifts her eyebrows.

“One of my sisters,” I grumble. “I only just found out about that. I… That’s not what I wanted to happen. Clearly! I’m not like them.”

“Yet you’re going to war against your father. Think that’s smart?”

“How about I worry about what I’m doing—”

“And I worry about me and where I’m going?” she asks pointedly, crossing her arms and tapping a foot.

“Clarissa… Lucifer told me that not all demons can have children.”

She stares at me for a long moment. “Why are you telling me that?” she asks stiffly.

“If you can’t… If you want to be a mom… I think you would make a great mom. You should adopt.”

"Let me guess," she says, her tone nice and dry. "I should hurry up and get the ball rolling, so we adopt a child before our tenth wedding anniversary? But if we don't adopt a baby or even if we do, a baby can leave the country."

“That would just be flat-out irresponsible!”

Her nostrils flare. “You are not going to tell me what to do or how to live my life. I’m not afraid.”

“Then you’re stupid, and I wouldn’t have thought a stupid woman would be able to outsmart Lucifer himself.”

“You’re being deliberately terrible.”

“And you’re being deliberately obtuse,” I spit back. “You act as if you can just go ahead and live your life without any fear, but that’s not how it is. That’s not how it goes. You’ve had Lucifer in your life. You’ve talked with him, and you got him to make a vow, and now, he’s pissed.”

“You had to go and come here and bring me back on his radar, didn’t you?”

“Actually, he sent me to Bethlehem on his own,” I say coolly.

She glances away and sighs, her shoulders hunched a bit. Her hand rubs the back of her neck, and then she rubs her forehead.

“Headache?”

“I don’t feel well,” she murmurs.

“Are you sick?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles.

“Go see Marlon.”

Clarissa’s eyes bore into me. “He’s a little busy in Hellertown right now.”

I grimace. “It was his idea to go to Crossroads.”

Her expression changes to one of almost panic. “Is it all right?”

“The windows will need to be replaced, but it was structurally sound when I left.” I glance away. “Did you happen to hear if there were any fatalities?”

“I don’t know,” she says softly.

“It’s my fault,” I whisper.

“Because I’m sure you heard of Crossroads before. Marlon’s idea?”

I nod. “I never did have a bite of the cheesesteak. Neither did my boys, and they earned it. They helped to save… Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Lucifer has a list of all of those people who were in the buildings affected, and he’ll probably send my siblings in to go and claim their souls.” I rub a hand down my face. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

“You want things to change.”

“Yes, but I don’t see how I can possibly win.”

“You have to pick and choose your battles.”

“Spoken like a true mother.”

Clarissa glowers at me. Why does she look so furious? I don’t understand.

“Which battles should I be picking then?” I ask.

“The tiny ones. Ones that will make a small difference.”

“How can that possibly do anything against the might of Lucifer?”

“It only takes a spark,” she says with a smirk.

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” I add, grinning. “I like the way you think, but…”

“You’re worried that your siblings will undo everything.”

“They will. I have to assume that now, which means…” I bite my lower lip and shake my head.

Getting them to side with me against my father is just not going to work. Lance will never pick me over Daddy Dearest. Larissa is too lazy.

Leo, though… Maybe even Lara…

Lola, I want nothing to do with her. I’m so furious with her I could spit. She’s the backstabber, the betrayer, the true brownnoser. She’s the one who has undone the most of what I’ve done.

All of this means that going to war against my father means going to war against my entire family.

I’m doomed. I might as well give up now because I have no chance at all to survive this.

“I’ll start a fire, all right,” I say, infusing a lot of cheer I don’t feel into my voice. “Don’t you worry about that. You stay as snug as a bug in a rug in good ole Bethlehem while I—”

“No.”

I grit my teeth. “What do you mean no? Do you want to die?”

“We all die eventually.”

“Yes, I know that, but there’s a chance you could die in your sleep peacefully when you hit old age in twenty years.”

“Fifty-seven’s old age now?”

“Well, yeah…”

“And how old are you?”

“In human years?”

“How about demonic years?”

I grimace. “I don’t know,” I admit.

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“My father has you marked for death.”

Her face blanches. “What exactly does that mean?” she asks. She’s side-eyeing her arm as if the mark is something tangible, something that can be seen.

“He’ll kill you,” I say. “I’m sure he’s just waiting for the moment you slip up. I’m serious—”

“Is there an actual mark on me?”

I hesitate.

“There isn’t, is there? You’re just lying.”

“I’m trying to protect you!” I protest. “He will kill you—”

“He’s welcome to try,” she says grimly. “Do you know how many different creatures have tried over the years? Tried and failed?”

“Lucifer doesn’t fail. When he has his mind made up, he gets his way.”

“That so? Then how come he’s a fallen angel?” she asks wryly. “He doesn’t always get what he wants.”

I swallow hard and shake my head. “Clarissa, he’s killed almost all of his children. He has twelve of us right now, but… it’s only a matter of time before he kills us too.”

“You’re just trying to scare me.”

“I have no reason to lie about this.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Gah, can she be more pigheaded? Does she want to die?

"Fine," I snap, "then maybe I'll talk to your guardian angels about all of this. I'm sure they won't dare leave Bethlehem, won't leave your side, and won't let you do whatever you want because you're too stupid and foolish to realize that people actually want you to live. From what I gather, you've done a lot of good in the world. You really want to just throw it all away because you want to be free to do whatever the Hell you want? The literal Prince of Hell wants you dead."

“I don’t care what you say,” she says stubbornly. “I won’t live my life like I’m seconds away from dying if I set foot outside of Bethlehem.”

“You really want to risk it? You have a husband, don’t you? What do you think he would say about it?”

“You leave him out of this.”

“Fine. I won’t talk to him, but I know Marlon. I know Christopher. You think I’m kidding? I really will rat you out, and I’ll be able to sleep like a baby about it.”

She grits her teeth. “You never should’ve come into my life.”

“Yeah. Taking your advice really did help the lives of the people, especially the ones you deliberately sent me after, those politicians. Oh, wait… That didn’t happen, now, did it?” I tap a finger to my cheek.

“You can…”

Clarissa trails off as another cop car pulls up. She ignores me and walks over to the car. The driver rolls down the window, and they talk a bit before Clarissa leans inside, kisses the guy, heads over to her car, and then drives away.

I eye the guy. Dark hair and eyes, tanned skin, clearly Hispanic.

He must be her husband.

And I grin.

CHAPTER 9

“Excuse me!” I call, waving my hand. “Can you come here, please, sir?”

He eyes me a moment, visibly shakes his head, but then climbs out of his car.

“Are you Clarissa’s husband?” I ask.

“You must be Lucifer’s spawn.”

“I see Clarissa’s told you about me. The name’s—”

“Lydia, right?”

“Ah, nice to know she shared that detail about me.” I lift my chin. “What’s your name?”

“Diego.”

“Nice to meet you. I would shake your hand, but you’re a bit too far away for me to reach. My arm’s only so long.” I shrug one shoulder. “Look, I know you have the most stubborn wife in the world—”

“That’s an understatement,” he says with a chuckle.

“You have to try to keep her inside Bethlehem as much as possible. I mean, like every second of every day.”

“For how long?” he asks suspiciously.

“For the rest of your lives.”

“Because that’ll be easy.” He rubs a hand down his face and then strokes his scruffy chin. “Why do we have to be so concerned?”

“I think Lucifer… He definitely has his eye focused back on Bethlehem again. He hates that he can’t set foot in there. No demons can.”

“That’s amazing,” he murmurs.

“Yes and no. It’s made him furious, and when he’s furious, people die.” I furrow my brow. “How did you get Clarissa to leave? Where did she go? What’s she up to?”

“You’re the nosiest demon I’ve ever met.”

“How many demons have you met?”

He looks off into the distance. Counting? Remembering? I’m not sure, but he shakes his head. “I appreciate the warning, but Clarissa’s been fine, and—”

"You should probably stick around in Bethlehem, too," I blurt out.

Diego stares at me without blinking his dark eyes.

“Think about it. If Lucifer can’t get to Clarissa, what’s the next best thing? Her husband.”

“Or her unborn baby,” he mumbles.

I go still and force a painful swallow down my throat. “What do you mean?”

“She’s had several miscarriages over the years,” he murmurs. There’s pain etched in the lines on his forehead, swimming within his dark orbs.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Maybe… Maybe Lucifer is somehow to blame. He told me once that he touches every demon… Her child would be part demon…”

Diego shakes his head. “I don’t know when exactly he would touch… the demon baby… in utero or…”

“He can’t get into Bethlehem,” I remind Diego.

“I know. Gracias Dios. Thank God, but the first miscarriage happened when she hadn’t been in Bethlehem.”

I'm confused. What happened? Why hasn't she been able to carry a baby to term? Does it have something to do with her being a half-demon, half-angel? Can her body not handle carrying a partial human child? But there are half-angel, half-human babies, and there are half-demon and half-human babies. And half-demon, half-werewolf and…

None of this makes any sense.

Maybe there isn’t even a magical explanation for this. Some women just can’t have babies.

"I'm so sorry," I murmur. "I even told Clarissa I thought she would make a good mother. I feel terrible."

“You didn’t know.” Diego drops his gaze to the ground. “I… I have a large extended family. I always wanted kids. Multiple. But we’re nearing forty now—”

“I suppose you’ve talked about adoption?”

“We’ve talked about it, yes, but…” Diego lifts his head, but he’s not looking at me. “Clarissa doesn’t like to give up. Yes, she’s considered advanced maternal age now that she’s thirty-five, but she doesn’t want to stop trying.”

My heart feels as if it’s weighed down by a mountain of sadness. Clarissa’s fought vampires, werewolves, sirens, and more to keep Bethlehem safe. She even made a deal with the devil, one without a loophole.

Only there is one. She's left Bethlehem a few times, and he hadn't smote her, but I have no doubt that he will strike the next time she does.

After all, that car accident when she headed to Allentown to see me hadn't been a true accident. I'm certain of it.

She got hurt because of me.

She almost died because of me.

Yes, she's half-angel, half-demon, so she has magic, but she also ingested vampire blood a few times. Apparently, that means she can't heal herself like she should be able to.

Maybe the vampire blood is why she can’t carry a baby to term.

I’m not going to mention that, though. Clarissa and Diego have both been through too much, and she hates vampires enough as it is.

I rub my throat. “Diego, if there’s anything I can do…”

“The earthquake in Hellertown…”

I flinch. “You want me to leave Earth.”

“Did you cause it?”

“I’m sure that was my father’s work, but he did it because I was there, yes. I… Has Clarissa told you? I’ve tried to make a distance, tried to help people… my siblings, they undid everything. My father, he undoes everything good in the world, and I’m sick of it!”

Diego wordlessly watches as I slam a fist into my open palm.

“It’s why I declared war on him,” I say firmly. “I came to Earth so that I could try to think of a plan to actually go ahead and do that, and what does he do? He hurts innocents. He might’ve killed innocents, all just to get to me. I…”

My hellhounds whine, rubbing against my legs. They’re trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that so very much, but nothing is going to make me feel better.

“I need an army,” I murmur. “You can’t go to war without an army.”

Slowly, my gaze focuses on Diego.

"Not you," I continue. "No offense, but Lucifer would be all too eager to kill you to hurt Clarissa."

“You already mentioned that,” he says dryly.

“No, I need to recruit those that Lucifer would rather use against me, but if I can turn them on my side…”

“Are you referring to your siblings?”

I give him a wide, terrible grin. “Why, yes, I am,” I say sweetly as if we’re talking about tea and biscuits. “I need to try to convince my siblings to work with me against my father.”

“And the chances of that happening is…” His gaze focuses on me.

“Not all that good,” I admit.

I don’t bother to mention this detail, but it’s probably as likely as it seems that he and Clarissa can have a baby naturally.

"But I have to try," I say, doing my best to sound a lot more confident than I feel. "Together—not you and me and them, just me and them—that's the only way we'll be able to get anywhere. No, we can't defeat him. We can't risk killing him and starting the apocalypse. Hell can't come to an end, I'm afraid. I'm not ready for all of that. Defeating him isn't the end goal. That's not how it's going to end."

“And how will it end?” Diego asks skeptically.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” I eye him. “Clarissa isn’t going to want to listen to you at all, and I get that. She’s strong and fierce, and she’s probably the kind of person who if you tell her to do something, she’ll do the opposite even if she really wanted to do the thing before you said anything to her about it.”

He laughs softly. “Yes, that’s Clarissa. I also think she doesn’t care for you telling her to do anything. Honestly, she’s very confused by you.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” I mumble. “Sometimes, I confuse myself. I just… I want… The world… I never came up to Earth, not until recently, and I… What did I do? I caused an earthquake, and then I came up and saw the destruction. At times, I’m reckless and impulsive, and then I rushed into a burning building that my hellhounds accidentally set ablaze, and I tried to save the people. No. I did save them, but then my sister…” I exhale a deep breath. “It’s not going to be easy to convince them all to join my side, but that’s for me to worry about. You have your hands full with Clarissa.”

“Remind me how this is different from any other day in my life?” he asks with a chuckle.

I grin. “I’m glad you can laugh about it, but seriously, this is life or death.”

“Does she know you plan on going to war against Lucifer?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah. Why?”

“She’s going to want in.”

“No way.”

“She might be able to help.”

“You shouldn’t encourage her. She’ll only get herself killed.”

“She’s a fierce fighter.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“There was a time when demons came to Bethlehem.” Diego strokes his chin. “After the sirens and the djinn but before leprechauns and angels.”

“Leprechauns are terrible blokes.”

“That they are. Never realized… How is it that so many humans think of them as tiny small Irishmen who like gold coins?”

“Pixies.”

“Pixies?”

“They’re tricksters, and they used to torment the Leprechauns something terrible. It’s because of them that humans think of the leprechauns the way they do. It’s a long story, but the two species even went to war with each other a long time ago.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I lie about this?” I wave my hand and get back on track. “I understand she’s done so much for Bethlehem. It’s her home, right? She needs to stay home.”

“She doesn’t… She’s not that much of a homebody,” he protests.

“For right now, she needs to stay put. If we’re lucky, if things go the way we want them to, then we’ll be able to go wherever we want, and that’ll include you and Clarissa.”

“And if things don’t go the way we want?”

“I’ll be dead, and once you two leave Bethlehem, you’ll be dead too.”

“Awesome,” he grumbles.

“I know. Not what you want to hear, but I can’t help that. The world… it’s a mess. Hell is uncomplicated. There’s torture and screams and blood and gnashing of teeth and wails. So many wails. Tears too.”

“No wonder you don’t want to be there,” he mutters.

“Not the place for a permanent family home, no,” I admit.

“So why not come to Earth earlier?”

“Honestly, I didn’t see the need. I hadn’t realized about the tiny sliver of valkyrie blood in me, and I was too wrapped up in Demonfang and Shadechomp.”

My hellhounds perk up their ears, and I pet their combined four heads.

“Okay… Why does it seem like you’re petting four heads…”

I grin and release the magic so he and only him can see them for what they are.

To his credit, he doesn’t react at all, not shocked or alarmed at least. “Are they hellhounds?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… kind of crazy.”

“They’re my best friends,” I inform him. “I’ll do anything for them, so no, I didn’t leave Hell. I think… I think a part of me always knew that I wasn’t like my siblings, that I wasn’t as dark as any of them. I knew I was different, so I stayed in Hell, maybe hoping to turn darker? I don’t know, but you focus on Clarissa. I’ll go and do my thing.”

“Good luck,” he murmurs.

“You too.”

Diego waves, climbs inside his car, and backs away.

I bend down and hug my hellhounds. “No,” I murmur. “We can’t defeat Lucifer, but maybe we can get him to respect us, to meet a few demands. A truce, that’s all I want.”

But a truce would mean making a deal with the devil, and how many of those ever work out?

CHAPTER 10

There’s only one sibling so far who I talked to about picking a side—Leo. I sense his signature swirling mass of darkness—in Hell, of course.

With a great deal of trepidation, I head there. For whatever reason, he’s standing on a massive boulder overlooking a bubbling brook of magma-like blood. He points at bubbles right before they pop as if he’s some kind of twisted maestro.

“What are you doing?” I ask, coming up behind him.

He doesn’t answer, and I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. Lucifer wanted me to leave Earth, and I have, but I don’t know if he wants me in Hell to kill me or… I gulp, not certain I want to know what the other options are. So far, at least, it seems that Lucifer will leave me alone if I leave him alone, but I know it won’t stay that way for long.

“You’re just going to ignore me?” I ask.

My hellhounds are starting to snap at one another. They’re hungry and crabby and tired, and honestly, so am I. I keep thinking about those cheesesteaks Father cheated me out of.

“What do you want, Lydia?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I sidle up beside him and flash him a big grin.

He grunts. “Do you think I’m—”

“I think you’re going to pick a side, yes, and I think you’ll side with me. I really do. Because you know I’m right. Lucifer wants to control you. He wants to control all of us. Why won’t he just let you unleash any ole war that you want on Earth? Why does he have to have a say? Why should you be limited?”

Leo snorts and rolls his eyes. He holds his hand out as if reaching toward a massive bubble that should’ve already popped but keeps growing and growing.

“You’ll limit me too,” Leo finally says.

“Now, why would I do that?”

“You care too much about the humans for whatever reason. You don’t want them all to die.”

My grin only grows. “I’ve discovered my calling. I’m ambitious to a fault, and I think that using humans while they’re alive is much more… profitable.”

“Profitable?” he questions. His hand still hovers, that bubble so massive that when it pops, it’s going to cover us in blood.

I wave a hand. “It’s far better in the long run.”

“You’re thinking of using them as servants, maybe. As slaves.”

I flinch inwardly but can’t afford to react negatively where he can pick up on any hint of hesitation. “The longer they live…”

"The more we can feed on their misery, their suffering. That's why I long for war. So much misery and suffering and pointless, endless agony."

“You’re twisted, you know that, right?” I ask dryly.

“You haven’t directly killed anyone yet, right?” he asks, lowering his hand. The bubble lowers, too, until it’s nothing at all.

I ignore him. “Everyone has a price. Go on, Leo. Tell me yours. Tell me what I have to do so you’ll pick a side. You haven’t picked Lucifer’s yet, or else you would’ve ratted me out or captured—”

“Or killed you,” he says coolly, but he nods a few times. “All right. Color me intrigued. If you incite a war on Earth, I’ll join your side.”

“Any war?” I ask sharply.

“Any war. A war—”

I’m already gone before he can make any stipulations, like how many casualties there have to be for it to count.

Because I’m going to launch a war that won’t require any deaths at all.

It’s a bit of a risk, but I head back to Earth and find a hotel to sleep in for the night. My hellhounds remain in Hell for once, and I miss them terribly, but I don’t know if my returning to Earth will cause there to be more earthquakes or something else even more nefarious, and I don’t want to risk their getting hurt.

When I wake, I head to the diner across the street. I’m not sure what city this is, what country either. One of the perks of being Lucifer’s daughter is that I was taught every language that was ever spoken on Earth, even the dead ones.

The structure of the houses seems different from Bethlehem. There's water nearby, and the city seems to have been carved out of a mountainside, the buildings the color of sand. It's beautiful, and I ask the waiter to just bring me something good. He returns with something that more or less seems like a dessert, and I eye him.

“Only the best for you,” he assures me. He bows lowly and walks away to serve someone else.

Hmm.

I take one bite. I’m not sure what it is, but it is decadent, delicious, tantalizing my taste buds.

Every last bit ends up in my stomach, every crumb, and I have to stop myself from licking the plate.

As soon as I swallow the last of it, he approaches with a smug smile.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks.

"Not at all," I lie easily.

He chuckles. “It’s all right. I understand it can be a bit sophisticated to American palates.”

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms as I lean back. “Excuse me?”

The waiter blinks a few times. “Pardon me. I thought… You aren’t from around here…”

“No, I am not, but you assumed I’m American? As if that is something to put down?” I wrinkle my nose. What does it matter where I’m from? And I’m from a place that this bloke might end up if he doesn’t learn to stop putting on false airs.

“I’m sorry. My apologies,” he says smoothly, but I roll my eyes and shoo him away with a wave of my hand.

“If I may…” he starts.

“I would rather you not,” I say coldly.

“It’s only that I think you should…” He hangs his head. “I am very sorry. Please. Do not pay for your treat. I will cover the cost of your breakfast.”

“You think you can pay me off?” I ask, more amused than annoyed.

“No, no,” he says in a rush. “I merely wish to make amends. I offended you, and I did not mean…”

I stare at him, through him, clear to his soul. It's a bit black around the edges. He cares about himself first, and he'll flatter women, dates around, doesn't love anyone but himself. It suits his purpose to be a waiter so he can flirt shamelessly and not have to pay for anything.

He’s not an overall terrible guy, but he does have opinions, some of them nasty, but there’s one that I find rather comical.

“Do you like chocolate?” I ask.

"Yes…" He's clearly confused as to why I bring this up.

“And the best chocolate around is…”

"Ah, yes." He beams. "There is a plant for the factory not that far away. Cocolote. You can go and have a tour there if you like. At the end, they offer you some free samples. I used to go every week with my father when I was young."

"Isn't that delightful," I murmur, "but I prefer Divine Delights."

The waiter blinks a few times. “Ah. Yes. If you prefer artificial—”

“They do not use artificial anything,” I say even though I have no idea if that’s the case.”

“Their chocolate tastes like cardboard.”

“You taste like cardboard,” I retort.

The waiter's back to blinking. "Ah, yes, well, your breakfast is on the house. If you could perhaps leave to free up the table…"

I wave to a couple strolling inside the joint. “You don’t want everyone to know you gave me breakfast for free, huh?” I ask loudly.

He winces.

After a nod, I stroll out of there but only so far as to sit in a chair outside the bakery next door at one of those small tables out front. On my phone, I'm able to figure out where I am as well as details concerning both Cocolote and Divine Delights. Although they both are well known for selling chocolate, the two haven't really crossed paths too much.

Leo wants a war, huh? I’ll give him one.

Cocolote's the one to offer the two, but I—cough—convince a guy to drive me over to the plant for Divine Delights. I wave to the driver and skedaddle into the plant.

It doesn’t take long at all for a guard to come up to me.

“I’m afraid you can’t be here,” he says.

He’s gruff and tall, muscular too, but those muscles are covered by fat, and I’m not impressed.

“I’m here for the tour,” I say with a wide smile.

The guard grimaces. “We don’t have a tour.”

“Why not? You should. Can I at least have free chocolate?”

“No. Why would we do that?”

"Cocolote does." I shrug. "Aren't you guys better than they are?"

“We are,” he says. “We’re so good that we stand by our product. You have to pay if you want to eat any.”

“Ah. Okay. So you only care about your own pockets. Gotcha. All right, so I’ll just be—”

"Hold on there," an older man says from the metal stairwell. This entire place is all metal and sterile. Rather impersonal if you ask me, but maybe it's efficient.

“Yes?” I ask, turning to face the man.

"Here at Divine Delights, we don't care about our pockets. We care about…"

I tilt my head to the side, waiting.

“We care about your stomach,” he finally says.

“Our taste buds,” I supply.

“Exactly!” The man beams at me.

I shrug. “Don’t know. Still think you should have a tour and give out chocolate.”

"We aren't going to just copy Cocolote," he protests.

“Oh. Of course not.” Laughing, I wave my hand. “You just have to do what they do better.”

The man’s eyes widen, and I wiggle my fingers and leave the place.

Seeds planted. Time to go plant some more.

At Cocolote, I finish the tour. It's boring if you ask me. You can't even smell the chocolate as it's being made because we're on the other side with thick windows and walls between us.

And the piece of chocolate at the end? The size of my pinky nail.

“Is this it?” I ask as I wait in line for my portion. “That’s not even a mouthful. I won’t have to take a bite. Won’t even have to chew!”

The woman holding the tray of samples forces a smile. “I’m sorry if your free sample—”

“It’s not free, though. It comes with the tour, but the tour isn’t free. Man, though, but you get what you pay for.” I nudge the man in front of me with my elbow. “Right?”

The man nods.

The woman purses her lips.

"Yeah, you know what? I'd rather pay for Divine Delights' bars. At least I know it'll be money well spent."

I wave to them, step to the side, and put my hand inside my duster’s pocket.

"What's this?" I ask faux innocently as I remove a Divine Delights candy bar. "Want a bite you'll actually have to bite into?" I ask the man.

And I proceed to pass out chocolate to everyone else in line, much to the woman’s dismay.

Posing as a news reporter, I call up Divine Delights to find out the latest scoop. Instead of a tour, they're going to partner with an amusement park. You show them a wrapper of a Divine Delights bar, you get a discount on your ticket, and Divine Delights will provide most of the desserts you can find in the park.

When Cocolote finds out, they hit up the schools. For every wrapper you turn in, they'll make a tiny donation to the neighboring schools.

And so on and so forth.

Not a week later, I hunt down Leo and shove a newspaper into his face. Yes, some places still do print out newspapers yet.

The headline on the page declares a chocolate war between Cocolote and Divine Delights.

Leo barely glances at it. “What do you want, Lydia?”

“Here’s your war.”

“There’s been no…” He trails off as I emphatically tap the paper several times. “Oh, come on, that does—”

“It counts. A deal’s a deal, right?”

He grumbles a bit under his breath, but he finally shakes my outstretched hand.

“A deal’s a deal,” he repeats, “but next time…”

“You’ll get a real war soon,” I promise. “We just need a few more on our side. It is our side, isn’t it?”

“It is, Lydia. It is.”

“Good.” I grin at him.

Slowly, things are starting to fall into place. What’s that saying? Slow and steady wins the race? How about slow and steady wins the war?

CHAPTER 11

“I’ll be in touch,” I inform Leo.

“You will ask me for battle strategy, won’t you?” he asks.

“How about we increase our number some first, yeah?”

“That’s all you.” And he teleports away.

I’m ready to go and see my hellhounds, but there’s someone else here already.

“Lani,” I say warily.

She stares at me, her face emotionless, impassive.

"Um… are you okay, Lani?" I ask, a bit freaked out. Lani's always all squinty-eyed, shooting daggers, glowering, glaring, curled fists, as angry as can be. To see her like this is a bit of a shock.

“You’re going to war against Father,” she says.

“Yes, you heard me. I declared it in front of you all.”

“I’ve taken some time to think about it.”

“Oh, yeah? And?” I know my sister. I know better than to get my hopes up.

Or I should, but my stupid hopes are up anyhow.

“I want to know what I would get out of it if I were to join you.” She tilts her head to the side.

I’ve never really noticed it before, but her eyes are wholly black. You can’t see the pupil. That’s how dark they are. It’s kind of interesting. No other color at all.

I consider her words. Honestly, I got nothing. I have no idea what I might be able to offer her if we win, mostly because I haven't allowed myself to even contemplate that next step. It probably won't happen, but having someone so filled with wrath all the time on our side would be a huge boost. Lani is a creature of lust, and she's not a barbarian or a berserker, but she can still enter berserker-like states where she will kill and destroy and suffer from bloodlust. It's… rather frightening, actually.

The first time I saw Lani in her bloodlust, I had been… maybe five Earthling years old. She had been six then, as she’s only a year older than I am. Here I was, thinking she was playing around with a bunch of harpies, but no, she jumped onto one of the winged creatures’ backs, launched at another one, ripped off the wings, forced one to claw another…

It gave me nightmares. Brimstone and ashes, I might have a nightmare about it tonight. I've tried to ignore that memory for so very long.

“Well?” Lani asks dryly.

“What is it that you want to get out of it?” I ask, turning the tables on her.

Lani’s eyes somehow turn even darker. “Revenge.”

“Revenge? On who? For what?” I wince and shake my head. “Never mind the why. Just tell me the who.”

Her lips curl into a wry smirk. “Why, sister? Afraid you’ll get nightmares?”

My nostrils flare. “Lani, just answer the question.”

“I asked you one.”

“Yeah, but I asked first,” I point out.

“So very juvenile of you. Fine. If you must know, there was a demon who promised me something, and he hasn’t delivered on his promise.”

I do my best to keep my face emotionless.

Her eyes narrow. “I know, I know,” she mumbles. “Demons don’t make promises to keep them. They break them.”

“Why haven’t you broken that demon?” I ask.

“I’ve thought of a hundred different ways to have revenge, of course.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I think it’ll be more fun and unexpected if it comes from us. You and me both.”

“Just what did he promise you?”

“He promised me the soul of an angel.”

I blink a few times.

“Yes, of course, half-angel,” she grumbles. “Better than nothing. I mean, my goal—as any good demon—would be to corrupt an angel wholly and entirely by myself, and I will do that eventually, but…”

“Why would you ask this demon for the soul of a half-angel?” I ask, baffled.

“He offered it to me,” she explains.

“Offered?” I shake my head. “I’m so confused right now.”

Lani smiles at me. She’s almost too patient, and it makes me worried that it’s not actually Lani, that Lucifer is trying to trick me, but then I see a flicker of wrath flash over her features.

"His name is Slade," Lani says. "He's tall and dark, as dark as night, and just looking at him makes me so very happy."

“Uh…”

“He wanted to kiss me,” she continues, “so I told him I would, but only after he gave me the soul.”

“So… you want my help convincing him to get the soul? You want Slade and me to get the soul? You want to kiss him?”

“No. I don’t want the kiss anymore. I’ll get the soul myself. All I want is revenge.”

“Because he’s taking too long?”

“No. He gave me a soul, but not the right one.”

“What kind of soul?”

“That of a drow.”

A dark elf.

“About as opposite as could be from a half-angel,” she continues, “so you can see why I won’t be kissing him and why I don’t trust him to deliver the proper soul.”

“And you want my help to do what exactly?” I ask slowly. “I mean, you should be able to handle a demon by yourself…”

“Yes, well, Slade’s father is Baal.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah.” Lani grins. “Don’t worry. We can handle all of that after we handle Lucifer.”

I gulp. Baal is one of Lucifer’s oldest friends. Baal’s another fallen angel, and he’s almost as old as Lucifer and almost as powerful.

The idea of dealing with Baal and Slade after Lucifer is too much for me, so I shake my head.

“No, you want real revenge?” I ask, thinking quickly. “You get Baal to deal with his son. Obviously, Baal won’t care about a drow’s soul. I mean, it’s a bit tame, but whatever. If we can convince Slade to do something his father wouldn’t approve of…”

Lani’s eyes dance with angry delight. “Oh, you are devious! Whoever thinks you’re the runt is wrong.” She rubs her hands together as if she’s freezing and needs the friction to warm up. “What would make Baal absolutely furious with Slade?”

“If Slade did something to help save a soul without realizing that was what he was doing.”

“I like that,” Lani says, “but how do we get Slade to do that?”

How to trick someone into doing something good for someone else… How to trick…

“Give me a moment,” I tell her. “Watch after…” I point to my hellhounds, wait for her nod, and teleport to Earth.

I’m not sure where I am, but there’s some kind of large metal pointy thing stretching up high that people are pointing to and taking pictures, but it’s a couple who is arguing somewhat quietly that captures my attention.

As I approach the table out front of a small café, the man grabs the woman’s wrists. There are tears in her eyes, and the man almost throws her arm away. He storms off, and I can still see marks on her arm from his fingers.

Swiftly, I take his spot. She’s sniffling, wiping her nose and face with a handkerchief.

“That guy seems like he should lose about one hundred and twenty pounds,” I tell her.

She blinks and gapes at me. “What do you mean?’ she asks.

Hmm. She has a bit of an accent compared to Clarissa.

“I mean, that you shouldn’t be with him,” I explain.

“No. He’s my fiancé. We are to be married. I am sure he will change—”

“Oh, he’ll change, all right,” I say flatly. “He’ll be even worse.”

“I have been with him for five years—”

“You wasted five years on a… on that guy,” I amend. There’s no need to call him names and risk making her feel even worse. “DO you want to be tied with him for the rest of your life?”

“There are other men.”

“None who will be interested in someone like me.”

“Why not?” I challenge.

“I am overlooked constantly for promotions at work. I have nothing and no one but Louis.”

“Oh, I doubt that. You can have a new guy. If you aren’t appreciated at your job, then either find a new one or else you need to find a way to get your boss to see you for the bright, intelligent, hard worker that you are. You need to become indispensable, but more than that, you must make your boss realize just how irreplaceable you are. Doors can be opened for you, but sometimes, you have to create the door, and other times, you have to drive a tank through it.”

“A tank,” she murmurs, looking a bit frightened.

“Can you stay here?” I ask. “I’ll be right back.”

“Ah, okay. Oui.”

I wait for her to look away to teleport back to Lani in Hell.

“Where’s…” I trail off as I see Slade.

He's a good-looking demon. I'll give him that. He takes one look at me and smiles real wide.

“I have someone I need you to kiss for me,” I tell him. “Since Lani here won’t be kissing you.”

“Her loss,” he says, his voice a bit higher than the bass I expected. “You want to pucker up, sweet stuff?”

I hold out my hand, grabbing Lani’s and his, and I bring them to that café. “Kiss her,” I say, pointing to the woman.

Slade doesn’t have to be told twice.

As he marches over, Lani crosses her arms. “You sure about this?”

“It’s a bit poetic that a kiss will save her and doom him, don’t you think? Considering if he hadn’t lied to you, he would’ve been kissing you?”

“I do like poetry,” Lani says.

“Your poems are all about things burning down to the ground.”

“Anger and fire go hand in hand,” she remarks hotly.

Slade sidles up to the woman. From this angle, I can’t tell if words are spoken, but his arm snakes around her. He draws her close, and he plants a big, fat kiss on her lips.

Her hands go to his arm, and she looks to be resisting until she gives in, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning into him.

I smirk as the terrible fiancé comes over. That’s my cue.

Swiftly, I head on over as the fiancé shouts at Slade, who is just laughing. While the male egos duke it out, I snatch the woman’s hand and tug her away.

“Dump him,” I say. “There are other guys out there.”

She glances over her shoulder.

“Not either of them,” I say.

“But he’s such a good kisser.”

“Slade?”

“Is that his name?”

“Trust me. He’s actually with someone else.”

“Of course he is,” she mumbles. “If you can kiss like that…”

“But you should be with a good kisser. I take it Louis isn’t?”

“At first…”

“At first doesn’t matter. How does he treat you now?”

Her nostrils flare, and she nods to me, whirls around, and marches up to Louis. “Here’s your ring.”

She flings it away.

Louis gapes at her. “That was the ring from my gramere!”

“Then go and find it,” she snaps. “Maybe your next woman will make you happy enough that you won’t ever hurt her!” She lifts her arm. The marks from his finger are still visible on her pale skin.

Louis blanches and takes off, most likely to look for the ring.

Slade goes to move after him, but Lani’s there, and then the two demons disappear.

I turn back to the woman.

“I’m Adalene,” she says. “I wish to thank you.”

“Thank me by finding a guy who appreciates you and getting a promotion or a new job.”

“A promotion and a raise,” she returns with a smile.

“Enjoy your life,” I tell her.

She inhales deeply, closing her eyes, and I wink out of there.

“Good job,” Lani is telling Slade.

“You wish I would kiss you with these lips,” Slade says, towering over her.

“Nah. I don’t want lips that help to heal a woman’s soul.”

“What are you talking about?” Slade asks.

“Saving a woman from an abusive relationship,” I remark. “How very angelic of you.”

Slade’s eyes widen. “You two—”

“Better not let your father hear about this,” Lani says, tapping a finger to her cheek. “If he does… I doubt you’ll be kissing anyone for a very long time.”

Slade looks ready to kill us, but then he promptly disappears.

Lani grins. “I can feel his father’s presence. He’ll be after Sable. We did it.”

“Oh, I doubt Baal will care that Slade will rat us out.”

“Definitely not. If anything, Baal will be even more furious that two demon girls made a fool out of him.” Lani gives me a huge hug. “Consider me an eager fighter for you.”

“Sweet. Thank you.”

Lani winks, and she’s gone.

I whistle to my hellhounds, but before they’re all the way over, I have an idea. Swiftly, I feed all of us a huge meal to the point that I’m ready to burst. Lena would be proud.

Then, I have us all head home. It's dinnertime now, and all of my sisters are around. Lani grins at me. Larissa doesn't acknowledge me, but I'm heading straight for Lara.

“So… you know how I’m going to war with our father, right?” I ask Lara.

“Yes,” she says, staring at her empty plate.

Lani, the sweetheart, hands me a plate. I'm not sure who made the meal, but there's a huge steak on my plate with a baked potato smothered in butter and corn on the cob.

Lara wrinkles her nose. “You want me to be on your side, don’t you?”

“Yes.” I lean close and whisper in her ear, “I’ll go on a hunger strike.”

Her eyes widen. “Yes!”

With a grin, I shove the plate toward Lena, who is sitting on my other side.

Lena reaches for the corn on the cob, but I cough slightly. “You can have this if…”

"Yes, yes, I'll join you." And Lena digs into my plate and hers.

I shake their hands, and it's done. Just like that, five of us are all against Lucifer, and Lara never did say how long my hunger strike has to last.

Fire-rific. Things are finally going my way!

CHAPTER 12

I'm feeling very happy as I leave my sisters to finish their meals, or in Lara's case, to sit around and talk and enjoy their company if they aren't fighting. I'm not sure who to target next to see if they'll join me, and I find myself heading toward the guy's place.

Leo’s leaning against the open doorway as if he’s waiting for me. “I knew you would be coming around.”

“What’s up?” I ask.

His gaze drifts down to my hellhounds. There’s something about his posture that has me up in arms.

“What’s going on?”

“You might want to find out what Lily’s up to,” he murmurs.

I blink a few times and jerk my thumb over my shoulder toward my place. “She’s with…”

“Is she?” he asks, meeting my gaze.

Slowly, I shake my head. She wasn’t with the others. I only just realize that now.

“She’s not anywhere in Hell, is she?” I ask, my heart sinking for some reason. My stomach’s churning, and I wish I hadn’t eaten so heavy a meal in anticipation of the hunger strike I would have to go on for Lara.

Leo’s silence is answer enough.

Hadn’t he warned me…

Christopher.

Maybe it’s ridiculous, but I pick up my hellhounds, one in each arm, needing them close so I can feel a measure of comfort because I have a feeling my wrath is going to rival Lani’s soon enough.

I'm not sure if I seek out him or her in order to find them on Earth, but I locate them just the same, and sure enough, they're together. They're walking on a path of some kind, a trail maybe. People walk it. Some are jogging while a few are running. A couple of bikers ride on by, and there's at least one family with a stroller. The one pushing the stroller is the mom, and it's not until she passes right by me that I see she's very pregnant. Why isn't her husband pushing the stroller? I suppose she might want to do the pushing to set the pace. Her husband is a lot taller than she is, and now, he's forced to walk a lot slower to stay with her.

Christopher and Lily haven’t noticed that I’m here, and my hellhounds are quiet, but they are struggling in my grasp, so I set them down. Their backs are arched as if they’re part cat, and I motion with my hands for them to calm down.

After a deep inhale, I slide over to fall into step behind them, and yes, I drop eaves.

Wouldn’t Marlon be so pleased?

“I never realized an angel could be so… You’re really something, you know?” Lily says.

Gag me.

“You’re so strong. Do you lift weights?” she asks, reaching for his bicep.

Christopher moves out of the way so she can’t quite touch him.

She just laughs and does her patented hair flip. “I don’t lift weights personally. I’m more of a cardio bunny. I like to run laps around poor suckas.” She moves her arm, and I bet she’s covering her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that. Your poor, virgin ears.”

Why is Christopher here? Why is he walking with her, and why isn't he with Clarissa? I never did tell him and Marlon that they should keep her in Bethlehem. Everything's all messed up. Why is he talking to her? Well, I haven't heard him say anything yet, but she's sure talking his ear off, and he's letting her.

What is this cold feeling in my chest? I’m not sure, but it might very well be jealousy, and that’s not something I want to feel. Why would I feel that? I mean, there's nothing for me to be jealous about. Christopher is Christopher, a pompous angel who thinks his winged feathers don't stink, and Lily would flirt with any guy, every guy. She has no boundaries. Nothing and no one can stop her.

And Leo, he sent me to find her. He thought I wouldn’t want this.

And I don’t. The sight of Christopher and Lily together irks me to no end, and I’m just so baffled as to why I feel this way.

Why do I care that she’s talking to him?

Why did Leo think I would care?

Is Leo really looking out for me?

Heartbreaker. Isn’t that what I called Christopher.

Ugh.

“You’re the big, silent, strong type, aren’t you?” she asks, cooing.

I hate when she coos like that. It’s not as if she’s a dove. Only doves should coo, and doves are white and good and everything she isn’t.

There’s definitely something brewing inside of me. It can’t be the jealousy, though. That just doesn’t make any sense. It has got to be something more than that… Hatred? Toward who? Lily? Christopher? I mean, I shouldn’t hate Lily. She’s my sister, and she’s just being her succubus self. As for Christopher, yes, he can be a bit of a stick in the mud, but I also enjoy teasing him, probably more than I should. It’s just fun to get a rise out of him.

Is that what Lily’s doing? Is she trying to get a rise out of him?

Is she trying to get a rise out of me?

If she is, she’s succeeding.

“I think that’s exactly what I need,” Lily continues. “A guy who will listen to me, who is big and strong. Not that I need protection, but what girl wants to be with a scrawny wimp of a guy?”

Because wimps don’t deserve love. I mean, it’s not as if every guy can be tall, dark, and handsome. Not all wimps stay wimps.

Am I a wimp? Is that why I never picked and settled on any vice until now? Because the more everyone says I'm ambitious, the more I realize that I am, but can you be ambitious and not be evil? That's the question, and honestly, I don't know. I'm confused, and frankly, I'm frightened. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I'm terrified about what to come.

Okay, so yes. I’m a walking oxymoron. I’m an ambitious wimp.

But there is strength in numbers, and if I can somehow convince Lily to fight with me…

Christopher… no. I don't want him to have any part of this. He should stay in Bethlehem, too, until the dust settles. Maybe even after.

Honestly, I know how this all is going to end. I’m going to be dead, and Lucifer will continue onward, and everything will be as it has always been.

Why not stop then? Save my own skin? Turn things around so that I don’t have to worry about any of this? Just crawl back to Hell, beg for forgiveness, and spend the rest of my days playing with Demonfang and Shadechomp?

Because that’s not enough for me. I had my time when my head was buried in the sand… or the bloody magma of Hell. I have friends with only one head and two legs instead of two heads and four legs, and I’ve inhaled the fresh air that is Earth. I’ve felt the sun’s rays touch my face.

And I want to be on Earth.

I want there to be a future for my friends.

I want there to be both dark and light in Hell and on Earth, whereas my father wants only complete and utter darkness. He's pure evil. The things he's done… I know he's tortured before and will again. I know he's killed and incited wars. I know he's possessed people and caused them to commit acts of serial killings. Not all serial killers, but a good number of them have actually been possessed by a demon. Those souls, the ones stripped from murder victims… those souls can grant demons immense power.

No more.

Maybe it’s the valkyrie side of me finally coming into the light, and honestly, I know that’s the case. Lucifer’s lifted whatever veil he had on me so that I didn’t realize it was there, but deep down, I always knew I was different from my siblings. It’s why I befriended hellhounds and spent most of my time with them.

I’m not just a demon. I’m more than that.

I am me.

“Have you ever kissed a woman?” Lily asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

That’s it. I’m done.

Without first checking to make sure no one else is looking, I teleport in front of them.

"Lily. Hi. A word, please?" I ask, tilting my head over to the other side of the trail.

Lily just has eyes for Christopher, though. “I’m a little—”

“I don’t care.” I literally drag her away from him.

“What is going on?” she asks, rubbernecking around me to look at Christopher. It’s as if she can’t bear to not see him.

Gag me with a spoon.

“What are you doing with him?” I ask.

“You mean him?” She giggles as she picks up the pace so that she can still see Christopher, who has continued on his way, walking the trail.

I grab her arm. “Lily.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” She yanks her arm free. “I think I love him. He’s not like the others. He’s… I really do, Lyd. I think I love him.”

CHAPTER 13

I can't believe my ears.

Lily.

The succubus.

In love.

With an angel.

It’s not possible. She’s pulling my leg.

She looks around me at him, biting her lower lip, her gaze traveling up and down him, and I can’t tell if it’s love or lust, and honestly, I don’t want this. I don’t want her to love him, and I don’t want her to lust after him either.

“You love him?” I murmur.

She stops in her tracks and faces me. “You do believe me, don’t you?”

I sidestep her question by asking a different one. “You know what to do about that, don’t you?”

She furrows her brow. “I don’t know,” she murmurs. “I was thinking about maybe… It’s different, though. He’s an angel, and I love him, and… What should I do?”

“You need to play hard to get,” I tell her. “You know the game.”

“I do,” she murmurs. “But Christopher… Chris…”

I wince. Does he want to be called Chris? Does she call him that?

“Definitely hard to get.” I nod emphatically. “Trust me.”

“You’re probably right,” she whispers. “Okay.”

She jogs up to Christopher.

"Hey, Chris. Something's come up, but I'll see you around. Maybe we can go flying sometime."

She glances over her shoulder at me, and I shoot her daggers. That is so not playing hard to get!

"Er, I mean, you wish we could go flying sometime." She goes to do her hair flip and then just teleports away.

Christopher takes a few more steps and then stops.

I march up to him. Only now do my hellhounds make a reappearance from wherever they had gone. They're back to acting like watchdogs. They glower at Christopher…

And then proceed to rub against his legs.

Seriously? Shouldn’t they hate him by sight? By smell?

“What the Hell, Christopher?” I ask, fuming.

He eyes me for a moment and shakes his head. “Can’t a guy go for a walk in peace?”

“You do realize who that was, don’t you?”

His blue eyes are dancing. He’s amused.

I hate him.

“So you do know that was my sister, huh? Lily. You want to know what she is?”

“I know what she is,” he says.

I throw up my hands. “Why do you think this is so funny?”

“Why do you care who I talk to?”

“Weren’t you the one who told me that you didn’t want to meet any more of my siblings?”

He tilts his head to the side. “I do seem to recall saying that.”

“Well then? Why were you walking with her?”

“It’s a free country.”

I snort. “What? Did she tell you that when she came up to you? How did you two even meet anyhow?”

“As if you care what I do.”

“You hate us all, or at least you made it clear that you hate me.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Actually, I’ve done my best to try to talk to you and get to know you some.”

“You haven’t. You don’t know me at all, and I don’t know you either, but… You know what Lily is. You know what succubus do. Do you want her to suck your soul—”

“I don’t have a soul. When I die, it’s all over for me.”

I swallow hard. “Demons…”

“A part of them can survive and be bound to Hell, unable to leave ever, yes, but that is not the case with true angels.”

My heart begins to pound. I didn’t know that, and for some reason, this makes me terrified for him.

“I… I don’t want you to…” I swallow hard. “Brimstone and ashes…”

“You don’t care.”

“You can’t tell me what I do and don’t care about,” I snap. “You hate us all. My family especially.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you so angry with me? Yes, your sister was flirting with me, but I know what she is, and I’m not worried about losing my heart to her or anyone else. I’m not looking for love.”

“Isn’t that when love finds you?” I counter. “That’s what all the songs say.”

“You listen to music in Hell?” he asks.

And he’s right back to being amused.

I swear I don’t understand him at all, but the most frustrating part is that I think I do want to understand him because I’m worried he and Marlon and Clarissa are going to be the key to everything with the war.

I’m terrified my father will realize I’ve befriended Clarissa. Marlon wants to be a mentor even though I don’t see him that way, but he’s pretty cool, I guess. Still owes me cheesesteaks.

As for Christopher… I want to keep him safe too, and I do want him to realize that not all demons are evil. We shouldn’t all be tarred and feather with the same broad strokes. We shouldn’t all be banished to Hell, unable to leave.

Not all demons prefer Hell, and that’s always been the case.

“Yes, I listen to music in Hell,” I finally mutter.

“What kind? Country?”

“I’m sure that’s what you prefer, but I… If I could, I would listen to the war drums of the warriors of old.”

“And since you can’t…”

“Classic rock.”

“Really? I would’ve taken you more for a bubblegum pop kind of girl.”

“I’m not a girl,” I snap.

“So you deny that part but not the pop.”

"Some pop isn't bad, and besides…" I lift my chin. "You didn't deny that you like country."

“It tells a story,” he explains.

“And rock songs don’t?” I counter.

“Are we really going to argue about everything we talk about?” he asks. “That hardly seems productive.”

"You want to talk about productivity? Fine. Let's talk about productivity. You and Marlon need to stay in Bethlehem and make sure Clarissa doesn't leave. I'm afraid that Lucifer will target her if she leaves. Diego shouldn't leave either. It's just not safe."

“You want them to be trapped in a city for the rest of their lives.”

“Well, it’s the best way to ensure that she can live to have gray hair and more wrinkles—”

“She’s only thirty-five. Does she even have wrinkles?”

“She does when she smiles.”

“I’m surprised you’ve seen her smile.”

“Contrary to what you may believe, some people do like me and enjoy talking to me.”

“That is hard to believe.”

Is he teasing me? I can’t tell. We hadn’t really been fighting about the music, even though he said we were.

“Will you go and do that for me?” I ask. “Keep her safe? I would if I could, but I can’t so…”

“How convenient,” he mutters.

“Actually, how utterly inconvenient that is for me, don’t you think? If I could, I would, but there’s nothing I can do because of a vow Lucifer made for Clarissa. She’s honestly lucky that she lived the times she left Bethlehem.”

“I’m sure that’s not what Clarissa wants to hear.”

“Doesn’t matter. She needs to hear it from you. She already heard it from me. I’m sure that if she’s given time, she’ll be able to come around to the idea that we really just want her to be safe, that it’s a small sacrifice she has to make, that’s all.”

Christopher appraises me. “You really do care.”

“Why are you so shocked?”

He glances away.

“Why are you here on a walk?” I ask, glancing around. Other people have walked around us. Most don’t give us a second look. It’s rather relaxing here, yes, but I also feel a little boxed in for some reason. Maybe because this is a trail, and I can’t see the end in either direction. People are just walking one way or the other, and it’s not even that crowded, but I want to leave. Now. I don’t even know why.

“I like to go for walks to clear my head sometimes,” he states.

“Actually, I do that a lot with Demonfang and Shadechomp.”

My hellhounds bark once with each head in response to their names.

I grin at Christopher, but he just shakes his head and starts to walk.

It's not hard to match his pace, even if his stride is a little longer than mine is. He doesn't slow down any, and he doesn't look over at me.

“This the way to Bethlehem?” I ask.

“Do you know where we are?”

“Not Bethlehem.”

“So you don’t know.”

“Clearly.” I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

“I don’t know why you all won’t leave me be,” he grumbles.

I shouldn’t feel hurt, but I do.

“I came here…” I hesitate and lower my head.

“You didn’t want me to be talking to your sister even though, if you were eavesdropping as you clearly were, then you clearly know that she was talking to me, not the other way around.”

“Don’t encourage her.”

“I wasn’t talking to her,” he reminds me, “so how exactly was I encouraging her?”

“You need to make it clear that you want nothing to do with her.”

“And what makes me think that she’ll listen to me when you don’t?”

A pit forms in my stomach. "Fine. I'll go. I can tell when I'm not wanted. Don't say I haven't done you any favors. What if somewhere up the family tree you have someone who wasn't a pure angel? What if you aren't? You might have a soul after all, and she could suck it out of you and leave you with nothing at all. You'll be gone, wiped from existence. You'll be nothing, but that's fine. You do you, and I'll just go about my business and hope that when Lily actually uses her succubus wiles, you don't succumb to it because I'm willing to bet that some angels have."

“You really don’t know me if you think I’ll—”

“You really haven’t spent a lot of time with succubi, have you? But, whatever. You don’t need to be warned. You’re an angel. You know everything.”

Christopher stiffens. “I never claimed—”

“You’re as omniscient and all-knowing as—”

“You are not going to disparage—”

“Oh, believe me. I’m not disparaging anyone.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty now, don’t you? All because you have a bit of valkyrie blood in you. Valkyries… Yeah, they’re tough. They’re strong, but they also have another job to do, something you’ve never done.”

“Angel of death.” I smirk at him. “I bet you think it’s real fitting that it wasn’t a pure angel who fell to be with my ancestor, huh? Because I can’t possibly be any good, not really, not the kind of good that actually matters. There are degrees of goodness, isn’t there?”

“There are degrees to goodness, yes, but…”

"What? Afraid I'm wasting your time by asking you about this?" I mock. "I mean, you were ignoring me when I begged you to—"

“Begged? You didn’t beg. You told me what to do.”

I throw up my hands. “I thought you live in Bethlehem! I thought you did so partially because of Clarissa! Is it really that much of a problem for you to go home?”

“Maybe I don’t like to be told what to do,” he says.

I exhale through my nose. “I don’t either,” I admit. “And Clarissa doesn’t either, but I thought maybe you and Marlon could just like… keep her there without telling her what to do because I messed up there.”

“For the most part, Clarissa doesn’t want to leave Bethlehem, not really, but there are times when she’ll want to go shopping outside of the bubble—”

“Or to a bakery in Allentown,” I mumble.

“Exactly. She feels trapped.”

I shudder. If I lose the war with Lucifer, I’ll be trapped or even worse.

“You want what’s best for her,” he says.

“Yes.”

“And your hellhounds.”

“Don’t mess with a girl and her hellhounds,” I say with a wry smile.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

CHAPTER 14

I pick up Demonfang and hold him up to Christopher. “Do you like being called Chris?”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s as bad as JC.”

“But not as bad as Heartbreaker?” I tease.

He makes no comment, but he does look a little… unsure.

“Why don’t you pet Demonfang? He won’t bite,” I assure him.

“I don’t want to be burned.”

“Can’t you heal from burns?”

“Of course.”

“Well, then? What’s there to be afraid of?”

“I’m not a fan of pain,” he says.

“Only some people are,” I murmur.

Christopher’s face is priceless.

"Yeah, I bet no female angel ever said anything like that to you, huh? What's it like to live in a human city? Do you miss angels? Or are you happy to be away from them so you can feel free to do whatever you want to do without fear of judgment?"

“I don’t fear judgment.”

“No? I guess that’s more a thing for humans, though, huh?”

“You judge a lot for a demon.”

“Really? ‘Cause I could say the same about you.”

“Just not the demon part.”

“It’s worse for an angel to judge, don’t you think?” I tease.

Christopher runs his tongue over his perfect teeth. “You might be right,” he concedes.

“No! There’s no might about it! You know I’m right. Admit it.”

“No.”

“Whatever. We both know it’s true.”

“You aren’t right.”

“So right, and it’s killing you. Your heart is beating slower and slower, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” he retorts.

Demonfang wiggles out of my arms, and I use that as an excuse to place my hand on his chest.

“Your heartbeat is rather slow,” I murmur.

He blinks a few times. “You can remove your hand now.”

“Oh, can I?” But I jerk it back as if I had been burned.

“I’m almost surprised your hand isn’t smoking,” he says.

“I’m not going to spontaneously combust because I touched an angel,” I say dryly.

“Yeah, but still. Thought I heard you were the daughter of flames or something like that.”

“I’m the daughter of smoke now,” I say.

“Of course you are.”

“You like?”

He doesn’t respond.

"Better than the daughter of…" I glance away.

“Do you hate him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love him at all?”

I hesitate.

“You don’t know?”

“I honestly don’t,” I say. “I think maybe, but it just might be because he’s my father, and he’s the only parent I have. I don’t even know if my mother is alive. I just know she’s from Lilith’s line but also has a valkyrie ancestor.” I exhale through my nose. “And my siblings are all pure demon as far as I know, and they think that’s the case with me too, so you cannot call me Brynhild.”

“Okay, Brynhild.”

“What did I just say?” I all but roar.

Christopher grins. “I assumed you meant in front of your siblings. They aren’t here, are they?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even look around to check.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You have a darkness radar, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it might be a bit faulty.”

“Why do you… I don’t want to know why you think that, do I?” he groans.

I wink at him. “No, you really don’t,” I say sweetly.

Just then, Christopher’s eyes grow wide, and I swear he stops breathing. His face turns white.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“It’s…”

Something tells me he’s about to teleport somewhere, and I grab his arm to stop him.

“Tell me,” I demand sharply.

“You don’t need to know,” he says, his tone just as sharp.

“Look, bud, I know you don’t care for me, but—”

“You’re right,” he says flatly. “I don’t.”

He steps back, yanking his arm free in the process, and he disappears.

A young girl, maybe two stares where Christopher had just been standing. She gapes at the spot and then gapes at me.

I grin at her, wink, and close my eyes, concentrating on sensing his goodness out in the world. As soon as I find it, I teleport myself and my hellhounds there.

Fortunately, he’s still not in Bethlehem.

Unfortunately, I smell blood.

So do the hellhounds. They’re antsy, jumping over each other, and I snap my fingers to get them to still. They comply instantly, although they snap at each other a few more times.

Christopher’s standing over someone lying on the grass, and I rush over, having teleported to a spot a few feet away.

“What are you doing here?” Christopher snaps.

“What happened—Marlon.”

The bleeding half-angel looks from Christopher to me. “I was…”

“You were clearly attacked,” Christopher says dryly.

Marlon opens his mouth and then closes his eyes.

My blood turns to ice, a most uncomfortable feeling when you’re used to living in a place that’s known for being the hottest place ever.

“You can’t die, Marlon,” I blurt out. “You still owe me cheesesteaks.”

“Seriously?” Christopher’s look is positively demonic. “Are you that selfish that you only ever think about yourself?”

“It was a joke,” I say weakly.

“A terrible one. Get out of my way.”

I hadn’t realized I was in his way, so I take a step back, but he doesn’t move around me. No, he just falls to his knees right where he had been standing.

I’m not amused.

“What happened?” I whisper, hoping one of them would tell me.

Marlon’s eyelids flicker. “Demon,” he mumbles before slumping over.

“Of course,” Christopher spits out. “One of your kind.”

“I didn’t do this!”

“You might as well have. First Clarissa, now Marlon. Who’s next? And will they be able to survive it?”

I swallow hard. “I—”

“You brought this on them.”

“Why isn’t he in Bethlehem? You should be there too.”

“That won’t save us,” he says. “If Lucifer truly wants us dead, he will find a way.”

“I’m sure that any possessed person wouldn’t be allowed in the city, and if he worked out a deal with a werewolf or vampire, they wouldn’t be able to enter either, so as long as you—”

“We have to be a prisoner.”

“Small price to pay to be alive and safe.”

Christopher snorts. “As if you know anything about being safe. As if you know anything about being alive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

He grumbles something under his breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite get that.”

“You might as well have cut him yourself. Do you see this?”

Christopher holds apart the ripped slices of Marlon’s shirt so I can see the wound. Three long slashes, jagged edges. Not from werewolf’s claws or anything like that. Not a demon’s claws either.

No. Those were made from a blade forged in Hellfire. The heat is so immense in Hell that the blades can’t possibly be perfectly straight. They always have that jagged edge, and the heat seeps into the blade itself so that the wound is burned and cauterized all in one blow.

And most Hellfire-forged blades are also poisoned.

“You did this,” Christopher says.

“I did not. I was with you!”

“Maybe you had someone else—”

“I wouldn’t do that, and you know that!”

“I don’t know you.”

“You would if you would stop being so stubborn. Why can’t you be willing to know me? Just because I’m different—”

“You aren’t different. You’re evil.”

“And you’re just as evil because you won’t bother to get to know me all because of who my father is.”

“You need to go. You aren’t helping any.”

“I’m here because I want to help. I feel terrible that this happened to Marlon.”

“You’ve done enough,” Christopher spits out.

Fury laces through me, and I shove Christopher out of the way so I can try to do something, but outside of ripping the shirt more so that the wound is entirely exposed, I’m not sure what else to do. Washing the wound might not be a good idea if the blade had been poisoned, and I don’t really know what to do.

“What are you trying to do? Finish him off?”

For some stupid reason, my eyes are filled with tears, and the glower I give Christopher should make him fall back away, but no. He forces me aside, not letting me help.

But I don’t leave. He can want me to go as much as he wants, but I’m not complying. He has no control over me, and I’m frustrated and worried and frightened.

And I can’t help any. That’s the worst part of all. That’s all I want—to help heal him.

Angels should be able to heal.

But I’m not a real angel. I’m just a demon with a little more light than most.

So I do the only thing I can do—watch and try to learn.

Christopher’s hands glow as he places his palms on the wounds.

“How do you make your hands glow?” I ask.

“I need to concentrate.” His eyes roll in the back of his head, and his body begins to shake.

“Are you… Are you having a seizure?” I ask, horrified even though his shaking is more like tremors than convulsions.

“You need to keep your lips shut,” he grumbles.

My lips press together in a tight line. I’m kneeling beside him, but I shift closer to Marlon’s head, and I grab one of his hands and place it in my lap.

“I’m sorry, Marlon, for any role I played in this. Hang in there. You’ll be fine.”

“Because of me,” Christopher says.

“Because of a stuck-up angel,” I tell Marlon, still watching Christopher closer. The tremors have stopped, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. It’s taking so much out of him to heal Marlon. Why? Because of the poison?

“Why couldn’t Marlon heal himself?” I blurt out.

“He’s too weak from the poison,” Christopher says.

"Oh. Okay. I guess that's better… I was afraid it was because he healed Clarissa, and that took something out of him."

“Actually, you might be right there,” Christopher murmurs, his eyes opening. Marlon had said it took more out of him than it should’ve.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Christopher says.

“Here.” I hold out my right hand to Christopher, my left still holding Marlon’s.

The angel eyes my hand disdainfully.

“Draw some of my power. Don’t use too much of yours. Maybe… Let me help save him.”

“You might kill him.”

“He’s part human,” I say dryly. “He might as well be half and half like Clarissa.”

“That’s not nearly the same thing,” Christopher protests.

“Right because more people go to Heaven… no, wait, that’s not the case.”

“You can’t give up any of your power.”

"Why not?" I argue, growing furious. "You're an angel. Shouldn't you want my soul to become lighter and lighter?"

“You’re at war with Lucifer himself. If you aren’t at your level best—”

“Even at my level best, I alone won’t be strong enough.”

“Marlon and I won’t—”

“I never dreamed of asking you to. The only thing I asked of you was for you to remain in Bethlehem to keep Clarissa safe because I can’t. Please, let me help in whatever way I can. I can’t heal him myself, but you can through me.”

Christopher’s hand is a lot warmer than I thought it would be.

“Are you ready?” he asks grimly.

I squeeze his hand and nod, but before I can vocalize my agreement, he’s already siphoning from me so sharply that it stings. I don’t admonish him, though. If anything, I try to give him more and more.

The wound is black, but it turns even blacker as dark vapor rises up out of the wound, like a twisted snake-shaped cloud. More and more vapor comes, and I swear it’s constricting my lungs, and I release Marlon’s hand to conjure a gust of wind to blow about and destroy the vapor.

Finally, no more vapor rises, and the wound looks more like a typical wound. Still, I allow Christopher to draw more from me so that the wound could be entirely healed.

My gaze shifts to Marlon's face. Before, he had been passed out from the pain, maybe, or the poison, but now, he's sleeping peacefully.

I’m not sure what possesses me to do this, but I lean forward and kiss Marlon’s forehead before placing my other hand on top of Christopher’s hand that I’m still holding.

“Take him to Bethlehem. Please,” I murmur. “I don’t know why he wasn’t there, why he was attacked… Maybe it was Lucifer… because of me… I’ll find out.”

“Don’t find out,” Christopher says gruffly, staring into my eyes.

“You don’t want me to seek revenge,” I say stiffly. “Of course. Good angel boy that you are.”

“Not until you recover the strength you lent to save him,” Christopher continues.

And Christopher squeezes my hand before taking Marlon and teleporting them away.

Leaving me all alone and hating myself for wishing I had kissed Christopher’s cheek. It must just be because of how seriously drained I am because I am drained, so very drained that I have to rely on my hellhounds for me to be able to return to Hell.

CHAPTER 15

I sleep like the dead. I have no idea how to do anything like that, to give of myself like that. Draining life? That's not a problem at all. I can transfer the pain from one person to another, but that's not what I helped Christopher with. No, I gave my power so that he could channel my magic for healing purposes.

Deep down, I want to learn how to do that. It’s so very counter to everything I’ve ever known before, so I’m not sure I can actually do it, but it’s something I should learn. I mean, going to war with Lucifer… people will be hurt. People will be killed.

But I’m hoping both Marlon and Christopher are safely tucked in Bethlehem. I know Marlon looks completely healed on the outside, but ferrumalum is no joke. Evil blade is right. Not many know of that term anymore, but hell-forged swords have that name. They’re not easy to come by, either, which suggests a demon of power, one under Lucifer’s thumb most likely, had been the one to go after Marlon.

It’s almost enough to make me want to go and face Lucifer now, but I’m not willing to do that yet. Five against Lucifer and his hordes of demons… yeah. No thanks. As much as I wish it could just be the thirteen of us—Lucifer versus his twelve kids—I know that won’t be the case.

That demon… I’ll find him. Not right now, though, because if I go after him immediately, Lucifer will know that he’s touched a nerve, and he’ll be sure to have Marlon killed next time. He won’t hesitate to kill Clarissa, I’m sure. Diego would be a surefire goner too. Christopher… Maybe. I don’t know if Lucifer will go after him or not, especially if Lily has her claws in him. Lucifer always lets Lily have her way with guys.

Why? Why would Lily go after Christopher? A part of me still wants to know how they crossed paths in the first place, and another part of me doesn’t want to even think about the two of them together.

I hate feeling this way. I really do. And no, it's not jealous. It's bitterness, and I don't like it. I have no business feeling this way. It's not as if I even like Christopher. Why would I?

But I think that some of those times when he's being rude to me, it's more because he thinks he should be. Or maybe I’m reading into things. I don’t know. My mind’s in a bit of a fog, probably from the magical surge I gave up and still need to recover from, which is just another reason that demon is getting a pass.

But only for now. There’s no way I won’t have my revenge. That demon will learn not to mess with me or mine.

Not that Christopher is mine. I just want respect, that's all, and from all angels, not just him. Why their respect should matter is a mystery… No, it isn't. I'm not an angel, not fully, and I'm not fully a demon. The angels will never accept me, and if the demons ever find out that I have a sliver of valkyrie blood in me, it won't matter how small amount I am, they'll destroy me, rip me apart, limb from limb, until there's nothing left, nothing at all, not even a little bit.

Let’s see… me, Leo, Lani, Lara, and Lena. I’m not sure how to convince Larissa to pick a side. She could very well sit this out entirely. Lance might be too much of a brownnoser to ever join me, although if I could get him to start to turn his envy on our father…

I don’t feel like dealing with Lance right now, though, or Lily. I am so avoiding her right now.

As for the others—Lucas, Logan, Lola, and Landon—I don’t know. I just feel that if I’m going to engage in a war, then I need to have an army, and that means I’ll need to recruit people outside of my father’s children.

Well, isn't there an entire academy with students who are learning how to hunt, slay, and execute evil paranormal beings? Certainly, the horde of demons in legion with my father should fit that criterion.

Demonfang is still sleeping, but Shadechomp lifts his head when I rise out of bed.

“Do you want to come with me?” I ask him.

He stares at me with one head, the other focused on his sleeping brother. Then, he slowly lays his head on Demonfang’s back as if to say that he’ll watch over him.

I pet them both, change into my typical outfit because why mess with perfection, and head to Earth.

Even though I’ve never been to Magical Hunters Academy before, I’ve heard all about it. Demons don’t tend to like it, thinking that they’re being prejudiced against, but honestly, demons have got to be a large number of their targets just given their nature. Demons shouldn’t get up in arms about that. They are evil.

But they don’t have to be only evil.

I head there now, strolling onto the grounds as if I own the place, bypassing the guards as if they’re peasants, marching past the building that most likely has some receptionist who could help me.

It’s clear to me which mansion or castle, what have you, that houses the professors, and I’m approaching it when a woman wearing black and gold armor, wielding a spear, having heeled boots on that I so appreciate lands in front of me. Her wings fold behind her back, and her eyes narrow. She’s fierce and ferocious. With her long blond hair partially braided, she looks like a Viking shield-maiden, minus the shield.

“Why have you come here?” she demands.

“Why does it seem like you don’t want me here?” I return.

“I do not suffer insolence,” she says in a chilled tone.

I’m sure a lot of her students obey her immediately and without question, but questioning authority is kind of my thing.

“It’s insulting that you won’t hear me out,” I counter.

Her eyes flash. Her features are as sharp as her spear, and she points the weapon at me, aiming for my throat.

“You’re the headmaster, aren’t you?” I ask. “If you aren’t…”

“I am.”

“Good. I hate when my time is wasted.”

“Yet I feel as if you are wasting mine, daughter of—”

“Smoke,” I supply hastily. “Daughter of smoke.”

“Your father remains who he is regardless of your feelings for him,” she states firmly, her tone a bit dry.

“I reject him.”

“For now. Until…”

“Until he threatens my life? No. You do not know me, and that’s fine. You don’t trust me yet, and I don’t blame you for that, but I will say this. I am not as different from you as you would think. I—”

“A drop of valkyrie blood does not make you a valkyrie.”

I stiffen to the point that my back pains me. “I was hoping…”

Baby steps. She doesn’t trust me. I know that, which means I need to gain her trust.

How?

“I need training,” I blurt out. “Lucifer hid that part of me, and he doesn’t know it, I’m sure. Or maybe he does, being a fallen angel and all, but he’s never… He’ll never help me to learn any valkyrie skills and magical abilities, and I’m sure you’re a fierce fighter. Any training you could offer me—physically and magically—I would greatly—”

“I will not.”

“You can have a day or even a week to consider—”

“I do not need any time to consider this. I will not train you.”

“What is your name?” I ask coldly.

“Why? Do you have a list of people who have wronged you?”

“No. I prefer to know the names of those who I am speaking to, and in that spirit, my name is Lydia.”

“Headmaster Vanhylde,” she says evenly. “Lydia, if you consider my position, I am certain you… You seem as if you are a responsible enough… demon…”

“You’re too afraid that training me would pose too much of a risk of incurring the wrath of Lucifer, and you have a duty to your students. They can’t join me on the war against him, and you can’t train me either.” I lift my chin and nod. “Forgive me. Asking for your help in the first place had been shortsighted and ignorant of me, especially because my father has gone after others.”

The valkyrie appraises me for a long moment. It's as if she's trying to determine if I'm worthy or not, but what exactly she's wondering if I'm worthy of remains to be seen.

“A clear head,” she says.

“Excuse me?”

“You must keep a clear head at all times,” she says firmly. “Too often, demons will rely on their brute strength or else their impulsivity. Use that impulsivity against them, and do not allow anyone access to your mind.”

She’s doing what she’s willing and giving me tips at the very least. I’m torn between thanking her and keeping my mouth shut so she’ll hopefully keep going.

“Demons thrive with the fire and the heat. A change in temperature might help,” she adds.

Hmm. Water… cold… ice… freezing… All of that would affect me, too, though. Still, it’s a nugget to tuck away.

“I don’t know if you can manage it, but the feather of a pure-blooded angel—not a valkyrie—is an excellent weapon against demons,” she says. “I suppose you know that—”

“Are there any angel students here?” I can’t help but ask.

“No.”

“I suppose they might have their own school,” I mutter.

“I know it wouldn’t be easy for you to have access to one.”

My nostrils flare. Lucifer somehow made certain that demon feathers can’t be used on a demon. Our feathers are every bit as sharp as an angel’s, but it does nothing to harm a fellow demon.

“What about the valkyrie part of me?” I ask desperately.

“Look inside,” she says simply. “That is all I can offer you. Think, reflect, and accept who you are. If you do that, perhaps you might be able to do some of the things a valkyrie can, but even if that is the case, it will not be as powerful as a true valkyrie.”

I nod. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to heal?”

“Pain transference might be the most you can handle,” she states, “but you won’t ever know unless you try. I hope for your sake you don’t have to do that.

The thought of mediation comes to mind with her saying I should think and reflect, which makes me think of Christopher and his walks and my own walks with my hellhounds. I tend to do some of my best thinking when I’m walking or pacing.

Headmaster Vanhylde nods, and I can tell when I’ve been dismissed.

“Thank you,” I murmur, and away I go.

CHAPTER 16

As I reach the gates of Magical Hunters Academy, I overheard a young student say, “Welcome back, Calli!”

Curious, I glance over and do a double-take. This chick is like a perky cheerleader of a vampire. Not goth at all, no black at all. Blond hair. A ton of makeup so that she doesn't look like death at all. No paleness at all on her. The main reason I know she's a vampire is because of the huge, fang-filled grin she flashes at the one who greeted her.

“Do vampires become what they eat?” I ask.

Calli turns to meet my gaze. Her smile only grows instead of falling. “And just who do you think I eat?”

“Cheerleaders, of course. The blonder and the bigger the hair, the better.”

“Let me guess. You don’t consider cheerleading a sport.” She crosses her arms.

"I don't know. I prefer martial arts, honestly. Not really much of a reason to become a cheerleader when you live in Hell."

“Yeah, well, demon girl, you can go ahead and judge all you want, but I don’t kill anyone. Not ever. Not cheerleaders or anyone else. And, yes, cheerleading is a sport, and it actually helps a bit with martial arts. I’ve practiced myself, so if you ever want to spar a round or two, I’m game.”

“You’ll lose a fang.”

“Or maybe you’ll lose a pint of blood.” She shrugs. “You never know.”

I eye her, taking in her denim skirt with lace trim and her red shirt with a knot that reminds me of a naval knot somehow. Compared to all of the clothes of the female students wandering about, I have to make an assumption.

“You graduated from here,” I say.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just curious. I’m Lydia.”

“Calli.”

We shake hands.

“A living vampire, huh?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah.”

“How do you like having a demon for a dad?” I ask. “Incubus, right?”

“Yeah,” she repeats, her tone a bit more somber now. “Actually, I’ve been having a bit of a hard time with him lately.”

“How so?”

She shakes her head. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“It’s all right. I’ve got enough issues myself with my demon dad.”

“You want to talk about it?”

I make a face. “Not really.”

“Yeah, pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t help much, does it?” She flips her hair back. “I just let him do his thing for the most part, and I do mine. He tries in his way, but not lately, and he doesn’t listen, and… There I go, oversharing with a complete stranger.” She narrows her eyes. “You’re a bit too old to be enrolling here.”

“Not enrolling.”

“So why are you here?”

I shrug one shoulder.

“Ah, so you don’t suffer from word vomiting and won’t overshare with a complete stranger, not even a little bit. I get that.”

“Trust me. I’m doing you a favor. You don’t want to get to know me.”

“Of course I don’t. I don’t like judgmental demons.”

I smirk, thinking of Christopher.

“Yeah, you’ve heard that before, haven’t you?” she guesses. “Do you like being told that or something?” Her eyes widen. “Or do you like the guy who told you that before?”

“You know nothing,” I tell her.

“Sure I don’t. Is he cute?”

“A person’s worth has absolutely zero to do with their looks.”

“Huh. I’ll take Words I Never Expected from a Demon for five hundred, Alex.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, baffled.

“You never saw… You don’t get out of Hell much, do you?”

“My dad likes to keep tabs on me.”

“A short leash? Why does he care? My dad doesn’t care about what I do, not unless I defy him, that is.”

“Oh, trust me. My dad cares about what I do, but that’s only because he’s worried about the image he has.”

“Image? He one of the biggies, huh?”

“You could say that,” I mutter, uncertain how much I want to tell her.

But I did come here for recruiting purposes…

“Fine. You don’t want to be a stranger? I won’t be one. My father’s the biggest bad there is.”

“Whoa.” She nods a few times.

“You a paranormal executioner?” I ask hopefully.

“A slayer.”

“Have you had to slay in your line of work?”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“So you are willing to kill.”

“If it’s necessary,” she says slowly.

“So… What’s the deal with your dad?” I ask.

“I—”

“Calli! You are going to be late,” the student who first called the vampire by name murmurs. “I… I hate to interrupt, but…”

“I don’t mean to keep you. Sorry.” I hold up my hands defenselessly.

“You didn’t know. I’m here to give a presentation—”

“She did last year, and it was so amazing,” the student gushes. She’s an elf, shorter than most, shorter than I am at least.

“I’ll leave you to it. Maybe I’ll see you around, Calli.”

Calli gives me a look. I’m sure she’s thinking that I approached her for a reason. She might look like a cheerleader, but she’s not a dumb blond. Not that I think all cheerleaders are dumb. I don’t mean to suggest that. A lot of them are cunning, and cunning doesn’t have to have a negative connotation either.

"See you when you want to see me, I guess," Calli says.

I can’t help bursting out laughing. “You don’t want to see me again, huh?”

“I’m not about to tell the daughter of…” She trails off, glancing at the elf, and then shrugs. “You aren’t what I would’ve thought you would be like.”

“You thought about what a daughter of him would be like?” I ask with a smirk.

“Not until I met one. A bit of a cart before the horse kind of thing, I guess.”

"You aren't what I thought you would be like." I wave my hand to mean all of the vampires. "Never met one like you before."

"That's because there's only one me." She beams, flashing her fangs again, and winks at me. "Yeah, I'll see you eventually. Come on, Dalares. Let's go. Can't be late, or the headmaster will never invite me back again."

With a chuckle, I head through the gate to leave Magical Hunters Academy behind and then pause mid-step. Where am I going? If the headmaster of Magical Hunters Academy won't allow her students to take part in a war against Lucifer—an academy that specifically molds its students into hunters, slayers, and executioners—then what are the chances that the other academies around the world will?

I might be forced to recruit my siblings and my siblings alone after all.

A bit disgruntled, I return to Hell, intent on spending some time with my hellhounds. We can go for a walk, and I can try to clear my head.

Before I can do just that, a form materializes in front of me.

“Lance,” I say coolly.

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to fight you,” he says.

“No? Guess I should be thankful for that.” I roll my eyes.

“You’re the one with twin balls of energy ready to blast me.”

I glance down at my hands. I hadn’t even consciously conjured them. My fists close, and the energy orbs disappear, but I don’t apologize.

"What can I do for you, Lance?" I ask, even though I have exactly zero desire to do anything for him. Zero desire and a fat chance.

“I discovered something you might find interesting,” he says, his eyes glowing more than normal.

“Out with it,” I say, my tone as indifferent as Larissa’s on a good day.

“Our father has his eye on a particular demon who doesn’t dwell in Hell.”

I furrow my brow. “Really? Why? What’s the big deal with the demon? Why would Lucifer care about him or where he lives?”

“I don’t know all of the details, but I do know that Lucifer wants him dead.”

I narrow my eyes. “And you’re telling me all of this why?”

“Oh, don’t worry, little sis. I know you don’t have the guts to go ahead and kill him for Lucifer so that our father will be happy with you once again and call you Bright One.”

My nostrils flare. “No one is allowed to call me that anymore,” I spit out. “Not you and not him either.”

“Yes, well, we all know you won’t ever do anything to make him happy.”

“So why tell me?” I ask suspiciously. Lance has to be playing me in some way. I don’t trust him at all.

“His name is Riskel,” he says. “Riskel Cruorem.”

I shrug. The name means nothing to me.

“He has a daughter,” Lance continues. “Callidora.”

Callidora.

Calli.

I blow out a breath through my nose. “Spying on me?”

“I just happened to notice that you were talking to her when I was checking to see where her old man might be.”

“So you are going—”

“I said Lucifer was interested in him.”

“You said Lucifer was interested in his being dead,” I point out flatly.

Lance shrugs, and I can’t quite read his expression. Why is my father so fixated on this demon? Does it have anything to do with my talking to the demon’s daughter? Did I somehow put a target on his back indirectly? I wouldn’t put it past Lucifer to act on those grounds like that, but he would’ve been moving really fast to set this into motion. I only just returned from talking to her. She’s still doing her presentation, I’m sure.

Although time is a bit funny here in Hell compared to on Earth…

And Lance has been referring to our father as Lucifer. Lance hardly ever does that. Is he distancing himself from Lucifer? Maybe this is Lance’s way of trying to see my side of things.

But I’ll play things cool. I won’t dare do anything that might jeopardize things because I’ve thought from the beginning that Lance would be the hardest to join my cause. If he does, the others might all fall in line without question, and that would be a thing of beauty.

“Thanks for the tidbit, Lance.”

“You do what you gotta do, Lydia,” he says with a chin lift.

Hmm.

I teleport, not to Earth, but to my hellhounds. Only after I've fed them and played with them a bit, not quite going for that walk but tossing them some energy orbs to chase, do I return to Magical Hunters Academy with my hellhounds in tow. After all, I have to kill some time so Calli will be finished up with her presentation.

As it is, I have to wait for a bit because while I learn from a guard that the presentation has finished, she’s enjoying a meal with the students and the masters who teach there. Maybe they’ll consider her as a professor someday. At least that one student seemed thrilled to have Calli, and I think it had been for a second time, right? Everything is a bit muddled in my head. I feel like I’m pulled in a hundred different directions all at once, but my hellhounds being here with me helps to keep me a bit calmer.

I'm waiting just outside of Magical Hunters Academy, which is a bit of a risky proposition because Calli might teleport out of there from inside. Only a few vampires can teleport, and only living ones at that, and it's specifically because of their father being a demon that they can. Vampires can also transform to mist and travel that way even faster than they can move with their vampiric speed.

But Calli walks out of the place with a huge smile on her face that only grows when she spots me.

“Lydia. Had a feeling you’d be here. Walk with me?”

We fall into step. She seems to know her way around, whereas I don’t even know what state we’re in. At least I think we’re in the United States of America. Then again, she went to school here for three years, so she should know where to go.

Calli talks about nothing important as she guides me to a small café. We sit outside at a table for two under an umbrella. A waitress comes over and takes our order. I just let Calli order for us, and I’m pleased that she even asks for some rolls for the dogs. I pull over a chair from another table, and Demonfang promptly jumps up to claim it, but Shadechomp remains by my side. He’s a bit wary, I think, though I can’t tell why. There’s nothing sinister at all that I can detect from Calli. She very much wears her heart on her sleeve.

“You can spill the dish at any time,” Calli comments. She sips her drink, which to me seems rather, um, high maintenance. A venti iced white mocha with oat milk and no whip cream with an extra, extra amount of caramel drizzle and sweet cream foam on top. Oh, and chocolate cookie topping too.

Seriously. It's like she wants to be the first-ever vampire to have diabetes.

And what makes it even funnier is that the waitress made a comment about how someone else ordered a similar drink and said she was allergic to dairy, only the white mocha and the caramel both have dairy.

Ridiculous. I mean, I’m sitting here, drinking water with extra lemon slices squeezed to death over it.

Calli nods a few times, waiting for me to go on, and I sigh. This isn’t going to be an easy conversation at all, but she deserves a head’s up. After all, anything Lucifer wants, I don’t want.

But what if he is playing me? What if Lucifer wanted Lance to tell me. Maybe Lucifer doesn’t really want the dad dead.

I don’t know. Seems kind of convoluted, but then again, Lucifer can be very convoluted at times.

“So, you know how my dad is Lucifer, right?” I come right out and say it.

“Yes.” She tilts her head to the side.

“And your father is an incubus.”

“Yes…” She brings her cup up but peers at me over the lid, not drinking.

The waitress comes with our orders, and I let the hellhounds have theirs, but I don’t eat, and neither does Calli.

“Is he a good guy?” I ask.

Calli fluffs her blond hair. “Are any demons good?”

I just stare at her without blinking. “Is he good?”

“Define good,” she mumbles uncomfortably. “I told you, he tries. He wants to be a good dad. He’s just a bit… misguided.”

“And to those who aren’t his daughter?” I ask softly.

She guzzles down her drink, using it as an excuse not to talk. And then she slowly eats her food, using that as another excuse.

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” I say.

“What is going on?” Calli asks. “I don’t really do the whole beating around the bush thing, and I don’t feel like pulling teeth either. Being a dentist was never something I wanted to grow up to be.”

I flash her my teeth, but she’s not amused. With a sigh, I run a hand through my hair. “My father wants yours dead.”

There. Bomb dropped.

Calli sits there, unnaturally still, not blinking, not breathing. After a minute, she snaps out of her trance.

“Yeah, I’m not on board with that. I don’t want that to happen.”

I lean forward. “Neither do I.”

CHAPTER 17

Calli lifts a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“I’m not a fan of my father and his methods, and what he wants… I want the opposite.” This time when I smile, Calli returns it.

“That so, huh?” But she shakes her head. “How can I trust you?”

I hate that I feel so angry that she’s suspicious of me, but I get it.

“I can’t help who my father is,” I spit out.

“I know, but…”

“I don’t want your father dead,” I assure her. “Seriously. I’ve denounced my father, and I’m actually at war against him, so whatever he wants—”

“Why my dad? Why now? Is it because…” She narrows her eyes.

“Is it because we happened to bump into each other?” I huff a breath. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe. And if that’s the case, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but I will do this. I will go and be a bodyguard to your father, and nothing will happen. No harm will come to him.”

“You’re absolutely right. Nothing will happen to him.”

She stands and makes to leave.

“Where is he?” I ask.

Calli shakes her head, her blond hair flying everywhere. With a head flip, her hair's back off her face again.

“You don’t trust me, but if he’s not where you think…”

“I asked him to relocate from Allentown—”

“Near Bethlehem?” I ask, inhaling sharply.

“Yeah.” She eyes me curiously. “Not that long ago, he was dealing there.”

“Dealing what?”

She says nothing.

I lift my hands. “Not my business. Got it.”

“I haven’t seen him since. He was to clear out that night, get all the vampires out of there too.” She blows out a breath. “I’ll find him. I’ll keep him safe. You don’t need to worry.”

Translation? I’ve done enough by getting her family involved in my mess.

I nod, and off she goes, disappeared so fast I’m not sure if she ran off using her speed or if she used fairy dust to teleport away. Or maybe she inherited teleportation abilities from her demonic father.

Either way, she’s gone.

My stomach rumbles, so I finally start to eat whatever it is that Calli ordered for me. It tastes good, a bit too cinnamony, though.

Her drink sits across from me. There’s about a third left, and curiosity has me reaching over. I remove the lid and take a tentative sip. Um. Wow. Okay. There is a ton of caramel in it. Like, a ton.

My heart’s a bit heavy, though, and I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault. I have to do something.

Scrolling on my phone, I head to supes.com and try to find anything I can about Riskel Cruorem. There’s not a lot on him, which frustrates me to no end, but what can I do? It’s not much of a surprise.

But then, I find a message about his leaving Allentown and having a bounty out for any vampire’s fangs if they dare to set foot in Allentown. Hmm. Isn’t that interesting? Seems like Calli might be like Clarissa, doing what she can to keep Allentown safe.

Which means my meeting Calli has nothing to do with this. Lucifer really did pick Riskel Cruorem for his actions. Lucifer already lost Bethlehem so that no demons can ever go there. He’s not going to want to have another city that is protected from evil paranormal types.

I’m sure he hates Magical Hunters Academy and all it stands for. Why hasn’t he ever gone after the academy? I don’t think he ever had, but it is possible he has gone after HEX Unite.

HEX Unite—Hunters, Slayers, and Executioners Unite. It’s the company almost all of the graduates from Magical Hunters Academy works for. They work to ensure the paranormal community is both safe and secret. The humans don’t know about any of us, and we aim to keep it that way. Even us demons don’t want the humans to truly believe in us because it’s easier to operate in the shadows.

But, yeah, the more I think about it, the more I reason my father might’ve gone after HEX Unite. There had been that bit recently about the male oracle. There’s never been a male oracle before or since then, and when things go against the norm of nature, usually that means someone is tinkering with things, and that could either be the Big Guy Upstairs or the Big Guy Down Below.

Either way, HEX Unite is back and operational again. At least I’m pretty sure it is. Calli had taken time off for the presentation, but that doesn’t mean much since she said she’s a paranormal slayer.

Allentown, huh? I wipe my hands off, put some money on the table, gather my hellhounds, and off we go. It’s doubtful Riskel Cruorem is hanging around Allentown, but he might be nearby…

Before I can do much of anything, though, a flutter of fairy dust cascades over me, and I’m yanked away. I fall hard onto my rump. My hellhounds drop from my arms, and they’re barking madly as I stare up into the almost psychotic-looking Calli.

“You!” she spits out. “I don’t know what sick, twisted game you’re playing… That you would dare try to befriend me… That you could just sit there, pretending to be all ignorant…”

"What are you going on about?" I ask, scrambling to my feet, not bothering to look away from her. The vampire appears ready to attack me at any second, but I can see from my peripheral vision that we're in the middle of a desert somewhere. Sand all over.

She trails her tongue along her fangs. “I don’t kill often at all, not unless it’s necessary, and it’s necessary right now.”

“Calli, start talking,” I demand.

Her eyes flash a bright red color. “You had your… beasts… kill my father before you even met me. Admit it!”

“I didn’t—”

But she doesn’t listen. She’s already launched herself at me, trying to bite me while attempting to stomp on Shadechomp.

Oh, no. Hell no. You do not go after my hellhounds.

“I didn’t do it!” I finally get out as I duck beneath her wild punch.

I try to slip around behind her, but she’s too fast, and she yanks my legs out from under me. Instead of falling hard to the sandy ground, I teleport a few feet away.

“That’s cheating,” she says, but she’s already in front of me, gripping my throat.

“I don’t want to have to fight you,” I say.

“Then don’t. Die with honor, you wretched spawn of Satan!”

I dig my nails into her webbing until she relaxes her grip on my throat enough that I can pry her hand away. Using force on her wrist joint, I force her down to the ground, a knee on her chest, pinning her in place, but her other arm is free, and she rakes her claw-like nails down my arm, snagging on my armbands.

“I really don’t want to have to fight you,” I say.

The hellhounds are going crazy. They’re running around. I’m grateful they haven’t started to attack her, and that’s all the more reason for me to not want to either. They know if a person is Bad News, and they like Calli. Even though she’s fighting me, they still don’t want to fight her. That’s… Honestly, that makes me a little concerned.

Because here’s the thing—demons can possess people, and no, I don’t think Calli’s been possessed, but if she had been…

And demons can also take on the appearance of other people, but the hellhounds would know if this person wasn’t Calli.

So it’s Calli who wants me dead.

“I didn’t do it,” I try to assure her, “but I know who did.”

She shoves my knee off her chest, and she’s on her side and lunging for my knees. Her tackle brings me down, and we roll a few times before I end up on the bottom.

Her fist connects with my mouth.

“One. You got your one punch in, but now…” I grab her one arm, forcing it between our chests, and hook my ankle around that same side foot. Bumping my hips, I force her up and over so now I’m on top. “You listen. My brother—”

“One of Lucifer’s kids did it. You’re all one and the same. You, him… does it matter? A hellhound killed my dad. You can tell by the…” She closes her eyes as the fight visibly goes out of her.

“I know it won’t help any, but I’m sorry.”

“Just go,” she mumbles.

Slowly, I climb off her. My hellhounds rush over, and I teleport away, not to Hell. Anywhere but Hell.

I’ve never hated having siblings so much as I do right now.

Why? Why did Lance have to do it? Why did he have to mock me about it? Why try to pin the murder on me?

Why, why, why?

CHAPTER 18

I’m on an island somewhere. There aren’t any other people on the island, just a girl and her hellhounds. Maybe I should feel happy, but I don’t.

The wound on my arm, the gash from Calli’s nails, is already healing. I almost wish it wouldn’t, that I could bear the scar physically. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to bear it emotionally.

Because I do feel that scar. Not so much from Calli but from my brother. Lance. How could he do that to me? And to make it look like I did it by employing hellhounds to do his dirty work.

He really does want to be Lucifer's mini-me, and it disgusts me.

Guess that means I want the war to come down to Lucifer and Lance versus the rest of us because I just don’t see how I can trust my oldest brother, not after he pulled that horrific and despicable stunt.

My phone begins to ring. I take it out. Part of me wants to chuck it into the water, but I spy the caller's name.

“Now’s not a good time,” I grumble.

“It isn’t? That’s okay. You can call me when you get the chance.”

I blink a few times. “Clarissa?”

“Yes?” She laughs. “Why do you sound so surprised? Didn’t have my name programmed into your cell?”

“No, I did… It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this happy before,” I murmur and then shake my head. “Marlon, is he okay? He’s all perfectly better, right? Please tell me he is.”

“Marlon’s perfectly better,” she assures me. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Demons never worry,” I scoff.

She giggles.

Clarissa just giggled.

What is the world coming to? I never would’ve thought she would be the type of woman to giggle.

“Uh… Clarissa? Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m better than ever,” she assures me. “Why?”

“You seem… different.”

“How so?”

“It’s like you swallowed a happiness goon.”

“There’s no such thing as a happiness goon,” she protests. There’s a slight pause. “Wait, is there?”

“No, but something’s up. Spill.”

“You’re nosy, you know that?”

“I’m sure you’re used to being the one to give out orders, Detective, but this once, you can do what you’re told.”

“Yeah, even the lieutenant sometimes can’t get me to follow orders.” She laughs.

"You're stalling. That means it's something bad, and this happiness is just a cover, a front, an act?"

“No, no. No cover.” She giggles again. “I’m fourteen weeks.”

“Fourteen weeks,” I repeat.

“Yes,” she says excitedly. “I’ve never been this far along before. I know it’s still not halfway yet, but I just know this time, it’ll be different. This time, I won’t take any chances. Not that I took any chances with any of the others… Well, I guess that time when I fought in the legion… That…” Clarissa sniffles.

“It’s all right,” I rush to assure her, not wanting her to cry. Geez, hormones must be killer when you’re pregnant.

No thank you. I like to be in charge of my emotions, thank you very much. And I do realize that emotions can be unpredictable and uncontrollable, but I have a handle on mine. For the most part. Sometimes, I think I understand Lani and wrath more than any of the others.

“Do you prefer a boy or a girl?”

“A girl,” she says without hesitating. “I just think a baby girl is what I need, you know? I can teach her karate—”

I burst out laughing. “You can teach a boy karate too.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“What if she wants to learn ballet?”

“What if she does? I don’t get your point.”

“Are you going to let her?” I ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. Karate—”

“Karate should be taught to all kids,” she says emphatically.

“All kids, huh? That would include bullies, then.”

“A part of karate is learning to have humility and to help others. Karate is meant to be a last resort.”

“Yeah, but that’s not always the case.”

“You really like to be a Negative Nancy, don’t you?”

“I prefer Negative Nelly,” I joke.

Clarissa giggles.

“Diego’s thrilled, I’m sure,” I say.

Clarissa prattles on, and I make appropriate noises, but I’m not listening anymore, and there’s no way I’m asking if they picked out names yet. I’m terrified for her, and as much as I don’t want to because it feels evil, I have to try and temper her expectations.

“Clarissa, are you going to stop working?” I ask.

“Stop working?”

“It’s a high-stress job, isn’t it? And with your history…”

“Are you kidding me? Besides, do you know how much paperwork is involved in police work?”

“Nah, no idea. The police and I… I don’t really like any kind of authority.”

“To think I’ll be the number one authoritative figure in a baby’s life,” she murmurs.

“Yeah…”

“You never did say congratulations,” Clarissa says suddenly. “Not that you have to or anything, but it just… You… I don’t appreciate your lack of exuberance. Demons can have children. Don’t you want any?”

“No,” I say flatly. “Lucifer probably won’t let me get married, let alone have children.”

“What do you mean?”

"I mean, my father has killed most of his offspring. My eldest brother isn't all that old, especially not compared to Lucifer. We have other half-siblings who are all dead. None of us are married, and none of us have any children. Honestly, not one of us even has a significant other, and I bet our father is to blame for that."

“Guys are too scared to date—”

“It’s more than that,” I say. “I have to think that he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want any grandchildren. He doesn’t want a long legacy.”

“Why not?”

“He can be his own legacy considering he won’t die until after the apocalypse.” I shrug.

Shadechomp comes over and nuzzles me. Not to be outdone, Demonfang climbs into my lap.

Clarissa stays silent.

“Lucifer has definitely played a role in all of our love lives,” I continue, “and I think he might have been interfering with yours as much as he can.”

She’s still not uttering a word.

“I’m afraid he might be the reason behind all of your problems.”

Clarissa huffs a sigh. “Lydia…”

“I know you don’t want to hear all of that, and you won’t want to hear this either. I met a vampire. A living vampire.”

“A living…”

“Some vampires are born. Incubus daddy, vampire mommy. Anyhow, her father caught the attention of Lucifer because her father was trying to keep vampires away from Allentown.”

“Allentown, PA?”

“I don’t know of another Allentown. By Bethlehem.”

“You don’t know your states, do you?”

“They aren’t my states,” I point out dryly.

“Touché. Sorry. Go on.”

“The demon father, the incubus… Lucifer wanted him dead. My brother Lance did it for him, and you want to know how Lance did it? He let hellhounds do it, so the daughter—”

"Calli, by any chance?"

I throw up my hands, which causes Demonfang to lift his head and glower at me with both of his heads. One licks my cheek as if he forgives me, but the other head continues to glare, curling back his upper lip. I rub that one’s head until he settles down.

“Why am I not surprised you know her,” I mumble.

"She came around about… um… two years ago, I think. Man, does time fly. Geez, I feel old. Her father wanted to know why he couldn't come into Bethlehem, and since he was bounced out, he set up as a demon overlord of sorts in Allentown. Calli got him to leave. I don't know all of the specifics, but she's strong and amazing…"

“I thought I heard that you hate all vampires,” I tease, grateful we’re off the topic of babies and miscarriages and my father.

“Oh, I hate all evil vamps with a fiery passion,” she says animatedly. “I just… There aren’t a lot of good ones.”

“Probably more than you think of,” I murmur.

“There was that dhampir in the legion,” she mumbles. “So Calli’s father is killed?”

“Yes. When someone crosses Lucifer, they end up dead.”

“And you think I’ve crossed him enough to the point that he won’t let me have any children. You do realize a woman can have a miscarriage for natural reasons instead of supernatural ones?”

“Yes, of course, but—”

“I’m sorry about Calli’s dad. I really am, but I fail to see how that pertains to me and my pregnancy,” she says firmly. “You should be happy enough that I won’t dare be leaving Bethlehem for another twenty-six weeks at least.”

I grimace. “Christopher and Marlon are with you?”

“Not this very second, no.”

“What good are guardian angels anyway?” I grumble.

“They don’t have to be my shadow,” she protests.

“They should follow you everywhere.”

“Not going to happen. I won’t even let Diego follow me everywhere.”

“Why not?”

“Would you pee in front of your boyfriend?”

I burst out laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Not as much as you are. Look, I get where you’re coming from, and I do have to admit that maybe I freaked out when you said that I shouldn’t leave Bethlehem ever. It’s a smart idea. I get that now, and I don’t want to have to live in fear, but… I just might have to make another deal with him.”

“No,” I say flatly.

“Well, not another deal. The first was a vow, not a deal, but I have to make sure that—”

“Don’t,” I spit out. “Don’t you dare. Lucifer will fleece you. He will find a way to get out of his vow. Trust me on this.”

“But my daughter or my son… I don’t want them to have to live their entire lives in fear, unable to set foot outside of Bethlehem,” she protests.

I exhale through my mouth and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I get that, Clarissa, but don’t worry about that. Just focus on the here and now, okay?”

"You really know how to completely ruin a person's mood, you know that?" Clarissa snaps. "I was so happy and excited. I just had a doctor's appointment, and I could hear the baby's heartbeat, and I've told almost all of my friends, but I should've known better than to tell you."

“Why did you?” I ask, curious despite myself.

“Christopher thought I should,” she grumbles. “Shouldn’t have listened to him, but I foolishly thought an angel could be trusted.”

“Well, maybe you can go ahead and tell your good vampy buddy Calli, and the two of you can have a blast talking about how evil I am because she refuses to believe that I had nothing to do with her father’s death. Nothing. I never thought Lucifer would ever use my love for my hellhounds against me, but that’s what he does. He’s evil through and through, and Lance is Lucifer 2.0, and I’m just a pawn, trying to fight against the system, and you want to know how it ends? With me as the last one dead. Maybe then you’ll be happy. How does that sound?”

The line’s dead. I’m not even sure when she hung up. Probably during my speech.

I have half a mind to chuck my phone into the ocean. I’m not even sure which ocean this island is located in. It seems peaceful enough here. If there are animals here, maybe I can stay here for a time, just be away from the rest of the world, just a girl and her hellhounds…

Curious to figure out which island I’m on, I pick up my phone from where I dropped it onto the sand. Right now, I’m looking for anything at all to make me forget about how upset I’ve been making everyone lately.

I’m a terrible friend and a worse person.

I’m making everything worse.

I'm not a murderer, yet people are dying because of me.

My phone rings.

“Clarissa?”

“It’s Calli,” she says in a rush. “She’s been attacked.”

CHAPTER 19

My jaw drops. “Attacked? How do you know?”

“I called her, not because you told me to. Because I wanted to.”

“Naturally,” I mumble.

“And I didn’t even get a chance to tell her about my being pregnant when she was attacked.”

“You heard it?”

“Some of it, but then I think her phone was crushed.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“She’s not here in Bethlehem,” Clarissa says.

“Can she go inside?” I ask. “She’s half-demon.”

“She can. She’s been inside before. Vamps have been able to get in, but most don’t last long. I’ll kill them or convince them they made a mistake. Works either way, but—”

“Fascinating. Where is she? If you want me to go and save her, I need to know where she is.”

“I’m trying to remember if she said she was at home or not,” Clarissa says. “Let me think…”

“Don’t worry. I got this.”

I hang up and shove my phone into a pocket on the inside of my duster. I spent enough time with Calli earlier that I should be able to locate her signature darkness. She’s not all that dark at all. For a vampire, she really isn’t evil at all. She wasn’t joking when she says she doesn’t kill. She probably drinks from people and makes them forget about it before sending them on their merry, oblivious ways.

But most people are a combination of good and evil, and I locate her in a spot not too far from Pennsylvania, actually. I'm getting better at learning geography. I suppress the urge to stick my tongue out at Clarissa's back.

Ohio. Wonder why Calli’s there. For an assignment for HEX Unite? But then her partner should be there. I’m pretty sure they don’t allow their agents or whatever they’re called out on missions solo. Or do they call the assignments quests? Or maybe they’re just boring old assignments.

"Ready, boys?" I murmur. "This time, you don't attack the nice vampire, but whoever is hurting her? Go all out on him. Or her. Whatever it is. Got it?"

All four heads bark a single time simultaneously. That’s not the first time they’ve done that, and I love it each and every occasion.

I teleport us as close to Calli as I can be. A huge, beast-like monster looms above her. An ogre. Tall with long, pointed teeth, triangular ears that stick out, and pink stone-hard skin, the ogre looks poised to kill. He lifts a massive warhammer above his head.

Calli kicks him right between his legs.

At the same time, I teleport onto the ogre’s back and try to pluck the warhammer from his grasp.

“Get off me!” the ogre roars, shaking me off as if I’m nothing more than a trembling leaf.

I fall, landing on my knees, a fist on the ground as I glower at him.

“Sic him, boys!” I call out.

“Don’t need your help,” Calli mumbles.

“No? Your ripped and bloodstained clothes say otherwise.”

“I can heal, remember?” she asks sarcastically.

“You can’t heal if he uses silver on you,” I remind her.

“I can to,” she says stubbornly. “If I drink…”

The ogre lets out a roar and goes to smack Demonfang up the side of his right face with the warhammer.

No way in Hell am I letting that happen.

I’m there in a second, teleporting such that my hand is half inside his chest. I then teleport away a few feet, still holding onto his heart.

The ogre collapses. Shadechomp barely gets out of the way in time to not be crushed, and he gnashes his teeth at me.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I protest. “He’s the one who would’ve crushed you, not me!”

I toss the black heart onto the body and turn away from the corpse. I’m not sure if the hellhounds will feast on him or not, but I don’t want to witness it.

Calli’s sitting. Despite her inch-thick layer of makeup, she’s pale, ashen.

“Are you going to be all right?” I ask her.

“Like you care,” she snaps.

“Did I not just kill the ogre?” I ask. “You’re welcome, by the by.”

“Don’t act like I should thank you!” She jerks to her feet, staggers a bit, and sways before finding her balance. “I don’t need you. In fact, you can just go to Hell.”

“You know,” I say mildly, “that phrasing doesn’t mean much at all when the person actually lives in Hell.”

She inhales a bit and finally sits back down next to me.

I move my shoulder, trying to let her know she can lean on me for support if she needs it, but she inches herself farther away from me.

“What do you need?” I murmur.

“You to go.”

“You’re like a broken record,” I grumble.

“I’m not repeating myself, not stuttering. You’re the one who needs to get the wax out of her ears so that she can actually hear what she’s been told.”

“Have a Q-tip?” I ask.

“You never use a Q-tip for wax,” she says, horrified.

“So, what do you use?”

"You shouldn't be worried about ear wax, considering you have hair growing out of your ears."

“Well, you have hair growing out of your nostrils,” I counter.

“I do not,” she protests.

“And neither do I.”

“You should,” she huffs. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, well, get in line.”

She side-eyes me.

“I hate myself,” I explain.

“Why?”

“While I don’t think that the reason why my father targeted yours, I don’t know why you were attacked, and if it had been because of me…” I close my eyes, thinking about how Clarissa got hurt on her way to meet up with me in Allentown. Yes, she claimed she would’ve gone anyhow to the bakery, but still…

When I open my eyes, Calli is staring at the corpse.

Yeah, death isn’t going to affect a vampire much. Even one who doesn’t kill unless she absolutely has to in her line of work.

But I live in Hell. I’ve seen souls been tortured, the torment they suffer. I’ve witnessed people being hunted and killed since I was very young. My guess is that Lucifer wanted it to be viewed as normal.

I frown as a thought comes to me. Maybe it's a memory, but I don't quite remember it. All I can recall is bits and pieces, flashing images that tease at the edges of my mind.

An angel. A scythe. Feathers everywhere. Another flash of the scythe. Blood. Screaming. Wailing. Pain.

“I tried to stop an angel from being killed,” I blurt out.

Calli sluggishly turns to look at me. Her breathing is a bit rapid, which is saying something considering a vampire’s heart beats almost deathly slowly.

“I can’t remember where it was. Couldn’t have been Hell, but the angel… He had been attacked from behind. He had no idea what was coming, but I screamed. I screamed until I thought my throat would bleed, and I rushed forward. The angel’s feathers were like razors, and they cut me, but I still tried to reach him.” I hang my head. “I couldn’t save him, and I think… I think that’s when Lucifer realized… That’s when he suppressed that…”

It’s starting to make sense, all of it.

Calli shakes her head. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“I don’t care if you do or not,” I say. “What do you need?”

“How did you do that?” she blurts out.

“What? The teleporting?”

“Into his chest. I didn’t think anyone could do something. Phasing through solid objects…”

“Not all ogres are good.”

“Some are,” she insists. “There were several who attended Magical Hunters Academy when I went.”

“Yeah, well, if you would’ve listened to me instead of trying to jump down my throat, I did say…”

“Not all ogres, yeah,” she mumbles.

“Can I go on?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“Glad I have your permission.” I cock my head to the side. “You’re sure you’re fine?”

“I’ve been better,” she mutters. “Just talk and keep my mind off this.”

My nostrils flare. My nose isn’t quite sensitive enough for me to be able to tell if I’m smelling two people’s blood or not, but I suspect that’s the case.

“My father wanted a soul, and I collected him one. It was years ago, but I saw the inside of an ogre, okay? I know that their hearts are more to the center than most, and because I saw it before…”

“You knew where to place your hand,” she says.

“Is it advisable? Not at all. Should I have done that? No. Will I do it again? Probably not.”

“So why did you risk it?”

“He was going to hurt Shadechomp.”

“Shadechomp?”

The hellhound lifts his head and bounds over to us. He drops a chunk of blood meat at my feet.

“Ugh, thanks.” I pet his heads.

He nudges the meat closer to me with his noses.

“Yeah, that present is staying right there,” I inform him.

Calli giggles and then sighs. “How did you find me?”

“I knew you were attacked because of Clarissa.”

“You know her?” Calli asks.

I wrinkle my nose. “Why do you sound so shocked?”

“You can’t enter Bethlehem.”

“No, but I still know her. She’s pregnant, by the way.”

“Is that why she called?” Calli shrieks. “Oh, blood on a cracker! You weren’t supposed to tell me that, were you? Ugh! I am not the best at all at acting surprised.”

“You can act surprised over the phone no problem. ‘What? No way! Blood on a cracker, that’s flippin’ amazing!’”

“I do not sound like that,” she deadpans.

“You so do,” I inform her.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, which causes her to wince.

“I then found your signature of darkness and found you here.”

“My signature of darkness…”

“Not as dark as most vampires,” I say.

“Wow. Okay.”

“Why did the ogre go after you? I take it because there’s no partner anywhere that you weren’t going after him for a slaying gig, huh?”

“No, it wasn’t an assignment.” She bites her lower lip. “There’s a portal to Hell not that far from here.”

“You wanted to go to Hell?” I gape at her.

“I wanted to see…”

“You wanted to see your dad. Come on, Calli. Think. You know someone who lives in Hell. You want me to check on your dad, you want me to tell him anything, I’ll do it.”

“Maybe I… I don’t know.” Calli shakes her head and then lowers it. “No, Lydia. I wasn’t going to go through the portal to see my dad.”

Of course. She’s a girl after my own heart.

“You want to see Lance,” I say. It’s not a question.

“Your brother who killed my dad, yeah.”

“Calli…”

“I know. I would’ve died if I went up against him.”

“You just need to fight smarter, that’s all. Maybe I can give you a few tips, but first… You need to heal all the way.” I hold out my wrist.

She eyes my skin and then runs her finger along my vein.

"You'll be fine drinking my blood since you're a…" I trail off. "I wonder…"

“What?”

"A part of me—a very fine tiny, minuscule sliver—is valkyrie."

“Angel of death.” She bursts out laughing. “That’s rather fitting.”

“Do you think that might hurt you?”

“You said my soul isn’t all that dark, right?”

“Right.”

“And…” She pushes the gash of her shirt aside to reveal a very deep, grievous wound that won’t heal even if she drinks gallons of human blood.

Calli needs more potent blood and now.

I bring my wrist up to her mouth. Her fangs pierce, but I hardly feel any pain. The sucking of blood out of me, that I do feel, but I accept the slight sting.

Before our eyes, she heals perfectly.

“No scar,” I tell her.

“Not outwardly,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, I have a few on the inside myself.”

“Think that happens to everyone with a demon for a father,” she says with a grin.

“Most likely.”

“Guess we should maybe stick together then, huh?”

“Definitely.”

CHAPTER 20

Despite our declaration that we should stick together, Calli decides to go and check on her mom and break the news in person about her dad. I offer to go with, but between my being who I am and my relationship with the killer, we figure that wouldn't be for the best.

Instead, I head to Allentown. Maybe word hasn’t gone out yet that Riskel Cruorem is dead. I have a feeling vampires will come here in droves soon enough once they realize.

I text Clarissa, asking for Christopher’s number. She doesn’t respond, and I don’t want to call her. She might be on the phone telling more friends about her pregnancy, although I really wish she wouldn’t. I can’t help being afraid that this one will end in heartache just like the others.

Without his number, I lack the means to locate Christopher. Yes, I can track his evil quotient—which is basically nonexistent and identical to most other angels—but he’s in Bethlehem, so I can’t just head there. Even though Clarissa will meet me at the edge, I have a feeling he won’t be bothered.

So, I go to the one place I know he’ll turn up at if I’m there.

The Golden Expanse.

My hellhounds love it here, and now that they’re gorged on ogre meat and blood, they’re twin bundles of energy. They frolic and dance and jump and leap for joy. It’s so comical I laugh. I toss out a few energy orbs for them to chase, manipulating them to change direction before they can catch up to them.

Finally, the air shifts with the arrival of another, and I grin even though he’s behind me.

“Hello, Christopher.”

“Brynhild.”

I suppress the desire to flinch, hearing the famous valkyrie’s name. “Thank you for coming.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I need to talk to you.” I whirl around to face him.

“I’m not really in the mood—”

“You aren’t over the moon for Clarissa?” I ask.

“I’m worried and anxious, and I should be with her just in case of anything.”

“Yes, I agree, but I want to give you a warning.”

“A warning? Do you know something?”

“I’m afraid you might be targeted next,” I say in a rush. “My friends are being hurt to punish me. Clarissa, Marlon, Calli…”

“First of all, we aren’t friends,” he scoffs.

I swallow hard. Why does it bother me so much that he says that?

“Second of all, don’t you think I would be safer from some kind of attack if I’m in Bethlehem where demons can’t come than here?”

“I thought demons aren’t supposed to be here either,” I point out with a wry smile.

He rolls his eyes, but I swear the corners of his lips start to curl upward. I pointedly smirk at him and make various faces until he sighs and shakes his head but finally gives me a full smile.

“Do I have to reiterate my point?” he asks.

“You have to be on the alert,” I insist. “Just because demons can’t enter Bethlehem doesn’t mean that something else can’t. I mean, vampires can still enter, and so can other creatures, right? So you need to watch your back. Clarissa’s front and back. Marlon’s back.”

“I’m not afraid to lay down my life for the sake of my friends.”

“Good. I don’t care that you don’t include me in that number.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “So you think that you need someone to watch your back?”

“Of course not.” I tilt my head to the side. “I’m willing to admit that the number of friends I have is very few, so I’m fine with calling you a friend. ‘Course, since you don’t feel the same way, that means you’re using me…”

“I am not using you,” he protests.

“I’m giving you valuable information—”

“You don’t even know for certain there will be an attack against me.”

“No, but I want you to not be killed, so there’s that.” My chest grows tight. I don’t want him to be hurt. Not just him, of course. I don’t want any of them to be hurt.

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

“I don’t think many plan for that.”

“You’d be surprised,” he murmurs.

I furrow my brow.

“Clarissa isn’t the first person I’ve been a guardian angel for,” he explains. “I had been a guardian angel to a young teenager who lost both of his parents young, one to a heart attack and one to a car accident. He didn’t fit in with any of his foster families, and life was so hard for him. He made a plan to die.”

I suck in a breath and wait for him to continue when he can.

His gaze has been off in the distance, but now, he turns to look at me. His blue eyes shine, glittering. There aren’t any tears, no wetness at all, but there’s still pain lurking in his orbs.

“What happened to him?”

“He tried to kill himself,” Christopher whispers, his voice raw.

My heart aches, seeing his pain. He loved that boy.

Loves that boy? I hope the boy is still alive.

“I took it on myself,” Christopher adds, “so he would live.”

“And he lived?” I breathe.

“He did.”

My elation turns to sorrow. Christopher said did, not does. “He…” I can’t bring myself to say anything.

“Through my prayers and working with him and being there for him, Scott turned his life around. He became a guidance counselor, wanting to help troubled youths.”

“What happened next?” I’m riveted.

Christopher holds out a hand. I go to hold his, but he brings my fingers up to his temple, and I can see images of a young man with black hair and an easy smile. It’s impossible to think he had been so depressed that he attempted suicide.

Gradually, I don’t just see images, but I also can hear, and I listen as Scott tried to convince a young man to turn away from being a runner for a gang. The boy did leave, listening to Scott, but thugs got to him and to Scott.

I yank my hand away, stumbling back a few steps. Bitter tears stream down my face. “Why?” I spit out. “You saved him just for him to be shot by a bunch of hooligans? What did that matter?”

"Before Scott died, he touched the lives of one hundred and four teens. Most of them are now starting to have families of their own. They're going to instill in those children some of the ideals and morals Scott learned. His life had meaning, Lydia. He did wonderful work. He lived an amazing life, and yes, I wish he could have lived longer, but he accomplished so much, and now, he's in Heaven."

“How were you not depressed yourself?” I ask, trying ever so hard to understand him.

“Who says I wasn’t depressed?” he asks, amused.

He's softening around me, and honestly, that terrifies me. I'm not sure I can handle this, handle him. As much as I've wanted him to stop viewing demons as one hundred percent evil every second of the day, I'm not sure I'm ready to see the other side of angels. I've always thought of them as pompous jerks who think their wings don't stink, that they sit on pedestals of clouds to look down on everyone, thinking we're all peasants and peons beneath them.

"Angels can be depressed? What, if it's a rainy day?" I joke weakly, trying to disrupt whatever is forming between us because I swear there's something brewing. Not much terrifies me. I mean, come on, my father is Lucifer. Next to him, what can possibly frighten me?

Turns out, an angel with short, curly blond hair and blue eyes can.

"Yes. I withdrew into myself and asked not to be reassigned a new person as their guardian angel."

"So, how did you end up with Clarissa?"

“By choice, but that only happened naturally, as a result of my depression. My mother, seeing how hurt I was, decided then was the time to tell me about my half-brother, so I went to see Marlon. I fell in love with being on Earth, but I cannot deny that I am a guardian angel at heart.”

“Angels have a heart?” I joke even as my heart begins to pound far too swiftly.

Again, he takes my hand, but this time, he places it on his chest. His is beating a bit swifter than I would’ve thought, and it only beats faster and faster the longer my hand is there.

I suck in a breath and pretend to be unaffected. "Huh. I guess you really do learn something new every day." I side-eye him. "I bet you subscribe to that whole thing that everything happens for a reason."

“Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I? I was assigned to Scott for a reason, and because of that, I eventually learned about Marlon, met Clarissa…”

"Yes, but all of that also lead you to meet me, and I'm sure you wish that didn't happen."

He glances away, and he stiffens a bit.

“It’s all right. I know when I’m not wanted, when I’m a nuisance, a bother, a…” I shrug one shoulder. “My siblings used to love to give me the cold shoulder. They didn’t get me. I think they’re slowly coming around, at least some of them, but it took going to war with my father for that to happen.”

“I think you should try to track down and figure out which valkyrie’s blood is in you,” he says.

I snort. "Why? Is that why you keep calling me Brynhild?"

“You don’t think it fitting?”

“I have no plans on falling for a human,” I inform him.

“That so?”

“Nor do I plan on being tricked.”

He shakes a finger at me. “But you will fight for revenge.”

“It’s not so much revenge,” I say slowly.

“Then why are you fighting?”

It’s such a good question. It deserves a good answer.

Too bad I don’t have one.

“Why am I fighting?” I ask slowly, stalling, and then I shrug and give him a rueful smile. “I’m fighting because someone has to knock Lucifer down a peg or two.”

“He hasn’t been all that terrible lately,” Christopher protests.

"That's what you think," I mumble. "The souls in Hell are being tortured so much that some of the souls are… They're all used up. There's nothing left. And that bit with Hex Unite, I think he was pulling the strings a bit behind the scenes. Maybe with Cain too. I don't know, but whenever a great evil rises on the world, you have to think Lucifer has some kind of hand in it."

“So you want to make the world a better place, huh?”

“Don’t get so excited, Fly Guy. I’m mostly demonic.”

“Only mostly.”

We share a grin, and I’m reminded of that time when I wish I kissed Christopher’s cheek. I could, right now. He might even let me.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

I won’t.

The reason I came here to this place to talk to him was because I wanted to keep him safe from my father. If my lips touch Christopher’s face—his cheeks, his lips, his hand, anywhere—it’ll only draw Lucifer’s attention to him all the more.

Of course, my just touching the angel might accomplish that, too, but I still pat Christopher’s shoulder all the same, just because I want to touch him.

CHAPTER 21

“What are you going to do now?” Christopher asks. He looks down at my hand on his shoulder.

I yank my hand back. “I told you that someone went after Calli, right?”

“Yes.”

“An ogre. A now-dead ogre.” I wait for him to say something. “I killed said ogre.”

“Some deaths are justified,” he says dryly. “I take it was a matter of life or death.”

“Yes, but there’s a chance I probably could’ve used less than lethal means.”

“When in the heat of a battle, you don’t always plan for much of anything.”

“I knew she was being attacked, but I never had a plan at all except to save her.”

“Sometimes, lethal force is necessary.”

“Yes, but…” I side-eye him. “Shouldn’t you be annoyed that I didn’t have some kind of backup plan so that he wouldn’t have been killed?”

“Seems to me you regret killing him.”

“Wondering who sent him,” I grumble. “With him dead, there’s no telling.”

“Come now, Lydia,” the angel admonishes. “All you have to do is go and talk to his soul.”

“Hmm.” I rub my chin. “I don’t normally do much of anything with the souls in Hell, but you’re right. I have to believe he headed on down there. Plus, I should talk to Calli’s father too. Or maybe not. I can try to let him have whatever measure of peace he can find there.”

“There’s peace to be found in Hell?” Christopher asks skeptically.

“Look at me and how I turned out.” I hold out my hands and turn around in a circle, modeling for him.

“You are not what I expected.”

I scowl. “Not what Lucifer expected either. Not what my siblings expected.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Depends on your point of view,” I mutter.

“And in your point of view?”

“I have no idea.” I throw up my hands.

“What’s bothering you?”

I’m not sure that I like that he’s able to read me so easily.

“I can tell something is. What is it about the ogre?” he pries.

As much as I would rather deflect and call him nosy, I just give in and explain, “It’s not about the ogre so much as it is about Calli’s father.”

“What about her father?”

I swallow hard. “My brother was the one to kill him, and he tried to make it look like I did it! He even used hellhounds!”

“Which brother?”

“Lance,” I say darkly. “The oldest one. Well, the oldest one who is still alive.”

“Ah.”

“He’s envy,” I continue, growing more and more heated. “I’m convinced he’s envious of me. He wants to be Daddy’s favorite.” My tone can’t be more spiteful.

“What are you going to do about it?”

My smile has to be devilish, positively demonic. “Don’t you worry about that, darling.”

“Lydia…”

“Be a dear and watch over Demonfang and Shadechomp for me, will ya?” I blow kisses to my hellhounds and wink to Christopher, and I’m off, teleporting to where Lance is.

Of course that’s a spot in Hell, a massive overhang above an equally massive pool of molten rock. This here is legit magma here, bubbling and frothy. The smell of sulfur here is incredibly toxic, enough to singe the hair from anyone’s nostrils.

I almost smile, thinking of my gross exaggeration about Calli’s nostril’s hairs, but I don’t. I can’t because I’m far gone in my wrath and desire for… Do I want Lance to die? Right this very second, I just might.

“Lance!”

He’s standing at the edge of the overhang, staring down at the magma. Funny, hadn’t another one of my brothers been in this exact pose before? Not in this particular spot but still.

My eldest brother doesn’t turn around, so I march up to him and yank hard on his shoulder. He doesn’t budge at all, his shoulder hardly jerking back even, so I shift to stand almost in front of him and pick his leg to force him to widen his stance. Then, I grab the back of his neck with my left hand, and with my right, I shove his shoulder again, this time also adding the weight of my body. His shoulders are behind his knees now, his center of balance off. I can’t from this angle sweep or reap, not easily, so I drop down, level change, my left arm now around his waist. Keeping my head on the inside against his belly, I push my shoulder into him to have him even more off balance, pick up his right leg, and plow into him, knocking him flat onto my back.

Swiftly, I’m down on his chest, my knees digging into his armpits, and I just wallop him with punches, hammer fists, and elbows.

And what does Lance do?

Does he defend himself or block my blows? Does he fight me back? Sit up? Roll us over?

No.

He doesn’t just lie there, though.

The bastard is laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I roar, socking him right in the kisser.

“You.”

"What about me?" I ask, shifting back but only a little bit. I don't want to risk letting him overpower me too easily and switch our positions.

“You think you can hurt me.”

"Um, buddy, I hate to break it to ya, but you're bleeding."

“Like you can hurt me enough that it’ll leave a scar, let alone actually do some serious damage.”

“You set me up!” I roar.

“Taking lessons from Lani, huh?” he asks.

I slap him so hard my palm aches. The skin of both his cheek and my palm is as red as the magma below us.

“Yeah, definitely Lani and not Lola,” he mocks.

“Do you want to die?” I ask. “Would serve you right for what you did to Riskel Cruorem.”

“Why do you care so much about that demon?” he counters.

“You made it seem like I did it!”

“Is that what you think?”

"Of course." I pull my arm all the way back, and my fist connects with his nose so hard a loud cracking sound rings out.

Lance just shakes his head.

“Admit it,” I roar. Spit flies onto his face. “You’re envious of me.”

“Envious of what?” he counters.

“You want to be Daddy’s fav, don’t you?”

“What’s so wrong with having Lucifer in your corner?” he asks.

His face is dark, the blood looking more like shadows on his face. It’s a testament to how frustrated and furious I am that I was able to cut his skin in multiple places just by punching him.

Lance backhands me so hard that I go flying, which inspires me to have my wings burst out. He's just sitting up as I plow into him, grabbing two fistfuls of his clothes. My fingers have turned into claws without my even meaning to, and the shirt is tearing part, so I dig into his skin and muscles instead. We loop and soar, and I drop him into the magma.

Only he has wings himself, and he alters entirely into his demon form.

I don't bother with that, already half-demoness. My ire is so insane that I have no sense of safety for myself. Magma bubbles and almost splashes my wings, but I just flip over onto my side and then swoop up and dive toward Lance. Energy orbs form above both of my hands, and I blast them out. One hits the overhand. Chunks of red rocks break off and fall down into the molten rock, causing a tidal wave of dangerously heated red liquid.

Lance’s arms are covered with swirling flames. He shoots the fire out at me, and I just grin and point above us. This particular area of Hell has a dark ceiling, for lack of a better word, but that doesn’t stop me from conjuring clouds.

Storm clouds.

Massive, dark clouds swollen with enough rain to cause a flood. Maybe not a flood to last for forty days and nights but enough to turn this entire region into a billowing cloud of smoke.

Yes, that is precisely what happens. The rain pours down, instantly cooling the magma while heating up the rain to the point of becoming steam, a massive plume of smoke.

Lance, however, is easy enough to see, a massively dark shape, and I fling energy orbs at him like I sometimes do with the hellhounds when they want to race and see who can outmaneuver my blasts.

The first few, he manages to avoid, but then I cheat.

I’ll admit it.

I teleport behind him and blast him, my hands touching his wings.

Lance drops like a stone. He lands on the blackened, dry magma. Anyone other than a demon would have severely scorched feet, but he can handle it without a problem.

“That the best you can do?” he asks calmly.

“You think you can do better?”

“Oh, I know I can,” he says.

And fire touches my face, the flames licking up my cheeks, but I don’t let the fire burn me. No, I absorb the fire and then blow it out of my mouth as if I have fiery breath.

Lance isn't there, though. I'm not sure where he is, and I have no choice but to use the wind to billow away the steam.

My brother is flying high above me, raining down sparks of fire everywhere. It’s not easy for me to do this—demons are all about fire, after all—but from the deep recesses of my magic, I strip the fiery sparks of their heat, turning them into ice shards that are like daggered icicles that all shoot straight for Lance’s heart.

But what does Lance do to counter?

He disappears, teleporting like a little baby.

But that’s all right. I’m using my wind to control the icy shards, and even though it takes just about everything that’s left in me, I teleport just the shards to Lance.

He appears in front of me, his demonic red skin now purplish, shards sticking out of him here and there, including two on either side of his neck.

I tilt my head to the side, appraising him. “Ice Frankenstein. You’re definitely a monster, Lance. You can’t deny that.”

“You’re a monster, too, Lydia, whether you want to admit that to yourself or not.”

As I watch, the shards melt away, turning to steam much like the magma had.

“You’re the monster,” I say coolly. “You not only accept your father, but you wish you could be him. The one you’re envious of is him. Don’t you see how warped that is? How twisted? You can never take his place, Lance, and you know that.”

“Ah, but you were the naïve, stupid, foolish girl ignorant enough to believe that Lucifer would hand over the reins of Hell to you. Who’s the one who wishes to take his spot? The one who has declared war on him, only you’re too cowardly to actually take that first step.”

I meet his steely gaze without blinking. “Oh, I disagree with you there considering you’re his righthand man, aren’t you? And if you go down, won’t that be a terrible blow to him?”

“Ah, Lydia, you are so damn naïve,” Lola says.

Brimstone and ashes. This is just what I need, another gang-up of my siblings against me. Fire-tastic.

CHAPTER 22

I land on the crumbling edge of the overhang and smile broadly at Lola, pretending my sister who adores death and almost worships it is a welcome sight.

“Lola, dear,” I coo.

“Don’t even start that crap,” she snaps. “I’m sick of having to clean up the messes you leave behind you everywhere you go.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say, but I swallow hard, my thoughts racing.

She doesn’t mean Calli, does she? I don’t know the vampire all that well, but I consider her a friend. Fire and brimstone, I even consider Christopher a friend.

I guess I’ve been that starved for friendship all along. My siblings and I never got on all that well, which is why I turned to my hellhounds. They mean everything to me. The moment I head to Earth, what’s the first thing I do? Meet up with Clarissa Garcia and befriend her, and who is she? The one person alive who has bested Lucifer. Maybe some of her past decisions are starting to come back to bite her in the ass. Maybe my father has nothing to do with her miscarriages, and it’s a side effect of the vampire blood she ingested. Who can say?

But I want her to live until a ripe old age. Same with Diego, who I really don’t know all that well. That goes for Marlon, Christopher, and Calli too.

But I just appraise my sister and flash her a wide smile. “Oh, but, Lola, I thought I was doing you a favor,” I lie through my teeth.

Her eyes narrow with her unspoken question.

“You see…” I hold out my hands defenselessly. “I thought you enjoyed killing so much that you would want to have an excuse to kill more.”

“Don’t you get it?” she hisses. “I don’t need an excuse to kill.”

My swallow lands in my stomach like a ball of lead. She just might be the only one—well, aside from Lena and her gluttony—who is a true credit to her vice.

“You want to kill me?” I ask evenly, lifting my chin. “I doubt you have it in you.”

“Oh, believe me,” she says, her eyes flashing darkly, “I have it in me.”

And she takes off, flying toward me.

I just stand there, unfazed. “Why?”

“Why?” She draws up short a few inches from me, close enough to make things uncomfortable, but I don’t react at all.

“Why do you want to kill me?”

“You’re going up against our—”

“He is not my father,” I say evenly.

“He gave you life,” she hisses.

“We all know life isn’t his domain,” I spit out.

“You’re only alive because he and a demon—”

“He does not control me. I am not his puppet,” I say firmly, “and if you want him to continue to jerk your strings around…” I tilt my head toward Lance. “The both of you are nothing more than pawns to him, can’t you see that? We all are. Everyone in the world is nothing more than someone he can manipulate and control. To what end? He’s fated to die one day, for his rule to end. Why should you do anything that he asks for? His time is borrowed!”

“Everyone is living on borrowed time, sis,” Leo says, and I smile warmly at the newcomer. At least he’s on my side.

But his point… Yeah, that doesn’t really help me much.

Or does it?

I turn to the others. “Yes, that’s true, and so, with our finite amount of time that we have, do you want to be free or a slave? Do you want to make up your own mind and do what you want, or do you want—”

“But you don’t want us to do what we want,” Lance says. “You want us to do what you want. How are you any better?”

“I truly do want your freedom,” I say eagerly.

Leo grins, standing beside me. “I want the freedom to cause any and all wars that I want.”

I stiffen but force myself to continue to smile. “See? Leo has goals of his own—”

“If you think that goal is Leo’s and not Lucifer’s, then you’re even stupider—”

I blast Lance. I’m so sick of his insults.

“What was that for?” Lance yelps.

“Oh, shrug it off,” I snap. “The only part of you that is wounded is your pride.”

“Did someone mention pride?”

I roll my eyes. Seriously? Logan just had to come now.

Lance is shooting daggers at me with his eyes, and then fiery arrows come at me too from his palms.

I’m a bit too winded from all of the fighting already and wishing I had more energy, more power, more might. Am I the weakest of us all because I’m the youngest? Or because I don’t do anything particularly dark and nefarious to draw power from people?

I’m mostly a demon. There’s no getting around that. I can’t draw power from people’s goodness, but I don’t want to draw from darkness either.

And that’s why I’m the daughter of smoke.

Lance’s fiery arrows almost hit me, but I teleport away just in time, drawing a bit of wind to turn his fiery arrows around, keeping them heading straight for me.

Only I’m flying right behind Lance.

My eldest brother realizes my plan, and he goes to teleport, but I latch onto him, grabbing his shoulders, and where he teleports, I go.

And where I go, the fiery arrows go.

They’re seconds away from hitting him when Lucas arrives, his wings flapping, blowing out the fire.

"No one asked you to come, Lucas," I grumble, still smarting from when I thought we might've bonded some, and then he brushed me aside.

Lucas flies around Lance and me, clucking his tongue but not saying anything.

Frustrated, I release my hold on Lucifer. Words aren’t going to matter. They won’t listen to my words.

What will make them listen?

A display of power

What kind of power?

Dark power.

Honestly, I don’t have it in me to be what they need, and I’m not even sure if I have it in me to be what I need to do.

Let’s see… Who hasn’t joined the family reunion? Well, Daddy Dearest, of course, but I doubt he’ll be gracing us with his foul presence.

Larissa isn’t. Surprise, surprise.

Lara and Lena aren’t, and that’s when I realize some of why I might be feeling so lightheaded and doozy from the fighting. My hunger strike has been ongoing, and I hadn’t even thought about food.

Lani's not. Great. Only one of my four allies is here. Somehow, this doesn't surprise me. If you want anything done, you have to do it yourself, am I right? I'm sure that's a philosophy Lucifer subscribes to.

Landon’s not, but I’m sure he’ll—ah, there he is.

Lily isn’t. Good. I don’t want to see her. The thought of her going on and on about how she’s in love with an angel sickens me, but if she isn’t willing to talk to the others about him… wouldn’t that prove that she really doesn’t love him? That she only thinks she is?

Or maybe she doesn’t think she loves him. Maybe she just wants to corrupt him and take his soul. To be able to say she corrupted the lightest and whitest of souls. Not that angels have souls, but you know what I mean.

Or maybe she knows what Christopher means to me or thinks she does, and she's only doing this to get to me.

Well, if that last case is right, it’s working better than she could’ve ever anticipated.

But I can’t think about Christopher, not now. Leo’s trying to take on Landon and Lola and Lance.

That leaves Logan and Lucas for me.

The two encircle me, and I hover in place, watching them, wary, waiting.

Logan shoots toward me first, and I spiral away from him.

And my wing cut his face. His gasp alerts me to this fact, and I draw up, hovering again, watching shocked as his fingers touch his cheek and come away stained with blood.

Demon’s wings are sharp, incredibly so, but our wings should not be able to harm each other. A human’s skin? Our wings can shred apart, but each other? No.

But an angel’s wings can and will.

Before Logan can realize this, I zoom forward, tackling him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and shoving him forward, straight into Lucas's gut.

Fire sears my back, but I merely flap my wings that much harder and then crash land all three of us hard into the overhang. More rock falls into the magma.

Before I can disentangle myself from my brothers, Demonfang and Shadechomp arrive. The hellhounds teleport right on top of me, but they only lick and kiss me a moment before they realize I’m fighting. Their mouths, all four of them, foam a bit, and they snap and bite and try to tear into my brothers, all without my having to say a word.

“Get your mangy mutts away,” Logan shouts.

I burst out laughing. Seems he doesn’t have too much pride that he’s unwilling to admit that he’s not very much of a dog person.

Lucas, though, seems to take my hellhounds as a personal challenge. He’s wrestling with Demonfang, and they roll closer and closer to the ledge, and then Lucas stands, picks up my hellhound, and throws him over.

As if my hellhound won’t survive being thrown into magma. He loves to bathe in molten rock.

Only the molten rock has been cool and hardened. It’s not molten anymore.

But I don’t have to worry at all. As I watch, Lucas turns toward Logan and Shadechomp when Demonfang reappears right on Lucas’s back and bits his neck with one mouth on either side.

Lucas’s lips part, but he doesn’t scream. I’ll give him credit for that, and he hangs his head, well, as much as Demonfang’s mouths will allow.

“Want him to let go?” I ask sweetly.

Blood dribbles down the sides of Lucas’s suit. “Yes,” he mutters.

“What’s the magic word?” I ask, my tone still saccharine.

“Please?”

“No. Not the magic word to me, and it’s not a word. It’s a phrase that you have to mean. He can sense emotion, you know, and fear, anger, hatred… He doesn’t respond to those well. They only make him bite that much harder.”

Demonfang, like a good little hellhound, hears me and promptly clamps down his twin jaws that much harder.

Lucas winces. He could rip the hellhound away. He could handle this in a hundred different ways, all ways in which Demonfang could be seriously hurt if not killed, but Lucas nods to me even though it makes him bleed even more, and his hands come up to pet Demonfang's heads.

I suck in a breath. Cruelty toward my friends I will not allow, but Lucas murmurs something, and Demonfang releases him just like that.

“You apologized?” I ask, flying over to Lucas.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he roars. He presses a hand to the left side of his throat. His hand turns black as the wound heals, and he does the same to the other side.

Hmm. Who is he draining life from in order to save himself?

Leo. Of course. My one ally who is just about on death’s door. Lola’s all in her demented glory.

I teleport over to her. “You should’ve been a grim reaper,” I inform her, and I swing my hands as if I’m holding the shaft of a scythe, and a curved blade of fire appears, burning her.

I brandish my magically crafted scythe and get the others to back away from Leo. As Leo points to Lucas and drains life back from him to heal, I realize the entire gang is all here.

No, not Daddy Dearest, but all of his children.

“Aw, the gang’s all here,” I say, wiping my lower lip with the back of my hand. My lip’s been split. Not sure when, but there’s blood on my hands.

On all of our hands.

And it’s time for that blood to not be ours or humans’ or anyone else’s.

Only our father’s.

CHAPTER 23

It’s madness.

It’s chaos.

In a word, it’s total anarchy.

Okay, so total anarchy is technically two words, but I don’t care. It’s apt.

My siblings are going at each other like they don’t want to draw blood. No, they’re going after each other’s souls.

For the most part, the chaos is all around me. I’m in the middle of it but not engaging anyone, and it’s almost surreal to be in the center of a demonic hurricane like this.

Lucas disengages from Lani and flies up to me.

I sock him right in the nose.

“I deserve that,” he admits.

I eye him and scowl. “You told me once that if Lucifer didn’t shut up, that you would conquest him. Did you mean that, or were you just putting on an act for me? Why didn’t you line up right away to side with me?”

“A conquest isn’t technically a war,” he starts.

“Seriously? You’re going to quibble over that? How can you conquest a person anyhow?”

Lucas exhales loudly through his nose. “I’ve been giving it some thought.”

"What? How can a person conquest another person?"

His eyes narrow, dark and sinister, but his lips are curling at the corners. “You think you’re so big and bad, don’t you?”

“I just think I’m Lydia, daughter of smoke.”

“You keep changing it, huh?”

I shrug one shoulder. “Just don’t want to be his daughter anymore.”

“Can’t change whose blood you have,” he remarks.

“Yeah, or when you leak blood everywhere because a hellhound attacked you…” I scowl at him. “You deserved worse.”

“Maybe I encouraged that.”

“What? Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he grumbles.

I snort. “Try me.”

“Sometimes, you’re your own biggest obstacle, you know?” he mutters. “You stand in your own way without even realizing it, and it’s messed up, and you have to…”

“Atone? Penance? Is that why you went after Demonfang? Because you wanted to bleed?”

“To start over afresh.”

“You let my hellhound conquest you,” I say slowly.

“Well, I figure that might be easier to swallow than for you to have conquested me. You’d never let me live it down, but Demonfang… He’s the better of the two.”

From somewhere decently far away, Shadechomp lets out a low growl, and I burst out laughing.

“They can hear better than we can,” I explain.

“And they aren’t animals, either,” he says.

“They might not have a human form, but they’re smarter than most,” I agree.

“Can’t some have human form?” he asks.

“Possibly, but mine can teleport, and not all can. Hellhounds are as unique as we are.”

“Yeah, we’re all unique, but I’m the best of the bunch,” Lucas says, puffing out his chest and pulling on the sportscoat halves.

“Not even close, dude,” I grumble, but that’s all I have time to say because Lily plows into me.

In seconds, it's a full-on brawl. Not a girly fight. No slapping and no hair pulling. Lily doesn't pull her punches, and neither do I. My foot slams into her stomach, and I go to kick her again there, but it's a feint, and I instead kick the side of her face.

Lily’s hardly fazed, though. She’s acting as if she’s possessed as she tears into me, ripping her claws down my arms.

“I always thought you had a bit of berserker in ya,” I grunt.

“Berserkers are strong and cunning and muscular and strong,” she says, her eyes clear of any hint of bloodlust or any kind of lust at all.

And here I hoped that the mention of the brute men with muscles on top of muscles might distract her a bit. No dice.

“You said strong twice,” I remark as I bear-hug her, pinning her arms to her sides. I’m bleeding far too much for me to allow her to claw me anymore, and I have to drain a bit of her life in order to heal. I don’t want to do that. It’s not something I’ve ever relished, but I don’t know how to heal without taking from someone else.

It's so properly demonic, that I have to take to heal. Maybe I have such a low amount of angel blood in me that I can't heal without taking first. Still, Christopher should've been willing to teach me, to at least try to train me…

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lily asks.

I’ve drained enough of her life that I’m healed mostly, so I release her. She doesn’t immediately go to attack me, so I fly around her in a slow, lazy circle. Can she sense emotions? She can’t read my mind. I know that much, but maybe I’m giving myself away somehow.

“Why on earth would he pick you over me?” she asks.

“Why would he pick you, given what you are?”

She stiffens. “I can’t help it that I’m a beautiful, glorious—”

“You aren’t just a demoness. You aren’t just a daughter of Lucifer. Lily, you’re a succubus. Angels won’t fall for you and your crap.”

“I don’t need to use my succubus wiles to…”

“To ensnare him?” I ask bitterly. “That’s not—”

“No, not to ensnare him,” she murmurs, and her face…

It’s glowing.

She’s glowing.

Looking far more angelic than she possibly should.

My stomach churns as I swallow hard. They always say that love can change a person, but it can’t turn someone demonic to angelic, right?

What if that is possible? Shouldn’t I want Lily to be happy? To find love?

No. Lucifer would ruin it. He would find out and destroy Christopher and her both.

Or is my thinking far more sinister and evil and self-absorbed? Because I want Christopher for myself?

No. No. I’m friends with Christopher. If that. I’ll never be anything more than that to him, and he’ll never be anything more than that to me. We can’t be. He’s an angel—a guardian angel at that—and I’m the daughter of smoke. I create and set fires all around the world to try to influence things the way I want them to be.

Yes, I want us to have a say in how Hell is run. I don’t want Lucifer to blindly have control. For now, he’s toying with us, but he’ll soon realize I mean business.

But it all comes down to power. I want more of it. I’m demonic even when I try to do good, to be good.

“You don’t love him,” I inform Lily bitterly.

“And what would you know of love?” she counters coolly. “You think you’re making friends with humans, don’t you? Only they aren’t humans. They’re not even people you should want to breathe. You’re going after our father’s enemies, and you’re siding with them.”

“Me? What about you! You claim to love an—”

She punches me so hard in the mouth I’m afraid I lost teeth. I run my tongue along them to be sure I didn’t.

Ah, so she doesn’t want the others to know about her crush. Because that’s all it is. It can’t be real, and it can’t be love, not true love.

Demons don’t get true love.

Demons don’t get happily ever afters.

Just ask Clarissa Garcia. She thought she had hers, but not everything is as it seems.

“Just remember, Lily,” I say coolly as I fly a bit away from her, upward so I can stare down at her. “All angels are enemies of Lucifer’s.”

She scowls, but Lani swoops on in for me, and the two of them start to go at it.

Once again, there’s pandemonium all around me, but I swear, the din of the battle all screech to a halt the moment my cell rings.

Are you kidding me? Now? So not the time for a phone call.

“Go ahead and answer it,” Lance says.

I grit my teeth. I don’t want to answer my phone in front of them, but it might be a welcome respite from all of the fighting.

The last thing we need is to fight each other, but this might be all Lucifer will ever give me. He’s probably still holed up in some corner of Hell, laughing hysterically at the notion of my going to war against him.

He doesn’t take me seriously, so I’ll have to force him to. If he thinks that war between us siblings is the war I’ll be satisfied with, then he’s sorely mistaken, and I will gladly disabuse him of that notion.

I spin in a slow circle, taking in how Lani and Lily are slowly disengaging, Lani’s fire dissipating away. Leo still has Logan in a headlock. Lena gets up from sitting on Landon’s chest. When had Landon joined in on the chaotic and terrible fun?

My phone’s not going to ring again, and despite my misgivings, I answer.

“Hello?” I ask, turning away from my siblings even though having my back to them probably isn’t the smartest of ideas.

Only they all teleport so they can see my face. Awesome.

“Lydia? Are you okay? You sound a bit out of breath.”

“I’m fine,” I tell Clarissa. “Is something wrong?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I wouldn’t have thought you would call me just to talk.”

“Why not? We aren’t there yet in our relationship?” Her laugh sounds forced and painful, as if she’s trying not to cry.

“Cl—What is it?” I ask sharply.

“What do you think it is?” she mumbles.

I close my eyes, not wanting to say it.

“I’m… I’m starting to have some pregnancy issues.”

“What specifically?” I demand.

“Who are you talking to?” Lily asks loudly, so loudly that I couldn’t hear Clarissa.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” I ask, shooting the succubus a glower

Lily just puckers up and blows me a kiss.

“I’d rather not go into the specifics,” Clarissa mumbles.

“But you’re all right?”

“I guess so.”

“And the…”

“I’m still pregnant if that’s what you’re asking,” Clarissa says softly.

But will she be for long? Will she still lose the baby? I know miscarriages are most likely to happen in the first trimester, but that doesn’t mean they all do.

“Why do you sound so distracted?” Clarissa asks.

“I betcha she’s talking to that angel,” Lily says loudly.

Everyone's already been quiet, listening to my phone conversation, but now, you could hear a pin drop.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not talking to an angel,” I say.

“Lydia?” Clarissa asks.

“Hold on.” I glare at the succubus.

“Hasn’t she told you all?” Lily continues. “She’s made friends—”

“You love—”

“She’s—”

“Ow!” I hear over the phone.

“Clarissa! Are you all right?” I ask.

Lance is on me in an instant. He grabs my phone and chucks it away. Little does he know that I teleport it before it can fall to the dried magma and shatter, having it safe and snug back inside my duster.

“Clarissa?” Lance roars, his face twisted with fury. I’ve only ever seen two people make that expression before—Lani with her fury and Lucifer. “Clarissa? The one from Bethlehem? You’re friends with our father’s enemies? You know what you are, Lydia? You’re a disgrace. You’re a worthless traitor.”

“Me? I’m the traitor?” I burst out laughing before turning darkly serious. “Don’t you see? Lucifer is the one who will betray us all!”

My brothers and sisters, both those with me and against me, all look at each other skeptically.

“Lance… You weren’t the first son Lucifer ever had,” I say softly. “He’s had more children. We have more siblings, but where are they? What happened to them? Do any of you know?”

Again, they look at each other.

Not one of them can answer my question.

But I can.

And the answer isn’t pretty.

CHAPTER 24

“Well?” I ask, spinning in a circle again, staring at each and every one of my siblings before turning to my partner-in-wrath, Lani. “I bet you can’t recall Lance ever having an older sibling, can you?”

She’s only a year older than I am, and she slowly shakes her head, her gaze shifting to Lance with a curious expression on her face that lacks any trace of anger.

“What about you, Landon?” I ask. “Or you… Lily.”

Landon shrugs. As for Lily, she just runs her tongue along her teeth for some reason.

“Lola? Lena? Lara? Larissa?”

None of my sisters can offer anything, and Larissa, the oldest of us girls, looks a little green.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“I… I don’t remember anything about… It’s almost as if…”

“As if what?” I ask, hoping that something’s been jogged in her memory, but Larissa just shrugs and throws up her hands in defeat.

“I’ve got nothing,” she mumbles.

“Of course you don’t,” Leo snaps.

I’m surprised by his zeal and equally shocked by her countering anger.

“As if you remember anything,” Larissa challenges.

“Do you, Leo?” I ask, not bothering to have my hopes up anymore.

“How can anyone think with all of this yapping?” he grumbles.

“Think,” I press. “Any chances you threatened someone older than Lance with a war?”

“Why are you so convinced that our father had more siblings than just us?” Lani asks quietly.

I turn to Lola even as I respond to Lani. “How old is Lucifer? Do you really think he’s only had children for the last thirty-five years?”

Hmm. Thirty-five. That’s how old Clarissa is, Marlon is… Diego has got to be around that age too. Doesn’t mean anything, I’m sure, but it’s interesting to think about all the same.

“That’s a fair point,” Logan admits, “but I don’t…” He glances at Lara, who shakes her head.

“Anyone have anything to eat?” Lena asks.

“How can you be hungry?” Lara admonishes.

"Fighting makes me hungry," Lena says, "and, besides, I do my best thinking when I'm eating. They say that chewing bubblegum can increase test scores. Did you know that?"

“Who exactly is they?” Lara grumbles.

“And what test scores do you have to worry about?” Leo asks.

Lena just grimaces and looks all around. “Anyone have gum at least?”

No one does, and Lena huffs and crosses her arms.

“You know,” Lara starts, “food addiction—”

“Like you should talk,” Lena snaps. “You have a food disorder, just like I do, and if you can’t admit that, then you’re even worse off than I am.”

Lara opens and shuts her mouth a few times before eyeing me. “How’s the hunger strike going?”

Lance throws up his hands in the air. “That’s all she had to do to get you on her side? Seriously?”

“Whatever it takes,” I tell him coolly. “You can’t talk, Lucifer’s Number One Lackey. Willing to kill whoever it takes to be in his precious good graces. You’re a disgrace. Even Lucifer wants you to start thinking for yourself, but you’re so wrapped up in being his little pet that you can’t even think much beyond What Would Lucifer Want? Not even WWLD.”

Lance scowls, but I ignore him and refocus on Lola.

"Think," I murmur. "You're the one who is most in tune to death. The siblings must've died."

“Why?” Lance blurts out. “Why are you so fixated on this?”

I meet his solemn gaze. In his glowing yellow eyes that are just like mine, I can see fear.

“I know demons can’t be trusted,” I start slowly. “Demons lie, but sometimes, they tell the truth. They are capable of sharing the truth.”

“The best lies are the ones wrapped in truth,” Lucas says.

My brother who craves conquest nods to me, and in his eyes, I see regret. A great deal of regret. His wanting penance… That’s something angels crave, something some humans seek when they sin, depending on their religious beliefs. Why would Lucas, out of all of my siblings, seek penance? What did he do that makes him think he needs to be punished? Will he ever trust me enough to tell me? It can’t be as simple as him pushing me away. That can’t be it.

But I recall the hurt I felt when I questioned how a person could conquest another in regards to him and Lucifer. He almost turned his back on me, siding with my siblings against me, and I felt as if he had betrayed me.

What if he had at that moment in some fashion?

This. This is what Lucifer wants. He wants us to second-guess everything, to trust no one, and I refuse to allow him to get into my head. I will do what is necessary to bring all twelve of us together, united in one purpose.

To control Lucifer.

And in doing so, control Hell.

"Are you trying to say that some demon told you that Lucifer had other children?" Logan asks, his tone a bit biting.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” I say. “It makes sense.”

“Just because it makes sense doesn’t mean it’s true,” Logan scoffs.

Larissa turns to Lance and puts a hand on his shoulder. “There are… There are gaps… There are holes in my memories,” she says slowly.

Lance hasn’t blinked in a long time, but he does now as he nods robotically. “I think… You might… Yes.”

Larissa rolls her eyes and shoves him away. It’s only now that I realize that those of my siblings who had changed into their demons or demonesses’ forms have altered to be in their regular forms, including Lance.

“You can’t just say Larissa’s right, huh?” I ask, rolling my eyes too because that’s just absurd.

Lance just smirks, and some of the guys laugh with him.

"Look, guys, let's stay on track," I say firmly. "Not just anyone could tamper with our memories. Even if we were young when it happened, it still would take a great deal of skill and power to tamper with all of our memories, what, with our bloodline, right?"

“You think Lucifer…” Larissa rubs the back of her neck and then rubs her hand across her face, smearing some of the blood on her cheeks onto her throat.

"Who else could've?" I ask softly. "Who else would've had that power? I mean, yes, Lucifer could've ordered someone else to do it, but we're his children. He wanted to start over entirely, starting with Lance."

“Why me?” Lance mutters.

“Maybe he saw something in you that the other children before you lacked,” I suggest.

Leo snorts. “Not likely. Seriously, Lyd. His head’s already too big because of his envy combined with him being the eldest. Do you want his head to become even fatter?”

I ignore Leo. “It’s possible, Lance.”

"What would he have seen?" Lance grumbles darkly. "You're right. He sent me to Earth because he wanted me to think for myself, and I… I just froze. I didn't know what to do with that freedom. I felt paralyzed, honestly. All I've ever wanted to do is make him proud of me."

“You can’t separate yourself from what he wants for you,” I suggest.

He nods a few times, the movements slow and measured. “It’s as if he’s in my head.”

I suck in a sharp inhale. “You don’t think…”

Lance eyes me without saying a word.

“Think what?” Lani asks.

“What if Lance’s envy isn’t his? What if Lucifer gave it to him? Gave you wrath? Gave everyone something?”

My siblings are silent, and my mind spins. My siblings are their vices. That defines them to the exclusion of everything else.

But who are they beneath that? If you strip the vice away, what are they? Who are they? Do they even know?

“You’re crazy to think that,” Lani snaps.

And her wrath is back full force and aimed at me. Maybe I’m going to end up losing her as an ally, but honestly, at this point, this is starting to become even larger than my vow of war against Lucifer.

It’s about learning who we are separate from our identities of being Lucifer’s sons and daughters.

Once we know who we are, we can make decisions as far as what we want for the future.

What we want.

Not what he wants.

“Maybe I am crazy,” I murmur, “but the missing memories… our minds being tampered…”

“We need to know what happened,” Lance demands.

“Got any bright ideas?” Landon asks him.

Lily’s been silent this entire exchange. She meets my gaze, and I wonder if she’s thinking about a certain blue-eyed, blond-haired angel.

Lance rubs his hands together, as if he’s coming up with some kind of a masterful plan, but his lips stay in a firm line.

He’s got nothing.

So I hold up a finger and wait until all eyes turn to me. “I know someone who might be able to direct us to someone who can help us,” I offer.

“If you mean Clarissa,” Lance starts.

“What’s the deal with this Clarissa?” Larissa asks.

“You never pay attention to anything, do you?” Lucas questions.

Larissa makes a rude gesture toward him, which causes Lucas to crack up. “I can’t help it if I zone out if people bore me,” she says.

“Yes, because we’re all so utterly boring,” Logan states. “We’re hilarious, actually.”

“That why you’re at each other’s throats so much?” she asks dryly.

“Fighting over which one of us is the funniest,” Logan says with a wry grin.

“Definitely not you, bro,” Landon says.

“Speak for yourself,” Logan counters.

“I am, dude.” Landon chuckles.

Before they can fight more, I say, “Clarissa is the reason why demons can’t enter Bethlehem.”

“That city where that guy’s son—”

“No, in Pennsylvania, in the United States of America,” Lance says.

“Oh, Lucifer hates her,” Larissa says. “I remember now.”

“It’s a miracle,” Leo mutters.

Larissa narrows her eyes darkly. “I heard that.”

“Didn’t whisper for a reason,” he returns with a smirk.

“Just because I’m apathetic at times doesn’t mean that I ignore everything around me,” she says. “I just don’t give a damn, which makes it easier to forget about things, but if Lance has forgotten…”

“I won’t ever forget about Clarissa,” Lance states grimly.

“You act like she went up against you personally,” I say. “Why do you hate her so much?”

“She one-upped our father,” he protests.

“Yeah, so shouldn’t she have our respect?” I counter.

Lance says nothing.

“Besides, to some degree, at one time at least, Lucifer himself respected her, or else he wouldn’t have vowed to leave Bethlehem alone for all time.”

“Were those his exact words?” Lara’s eyes widen as large as the dinner plates Lena likes to lick clean

“He vowed for his bargain to be upheld until his last day,” I state.

Larissa lets loose a low whistle.

“So, yeah, he respected her even if he’s upset about what he gave up to her now after the fact,” I state firmly. “I know some of you might think this makes me a traitor, but if he tampered with our memories, who’s the real traitor?”

“She can’t help our minds,” Lance argues. “And if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay in Bethlehem.”

“No, but she might know someone who can.” I reach inside my duster and remove my cell, shaking it in my hand to brandish it. “’Sides, she doesn’t have to leave Bethlehem.”

I glance around.

“We all in agreement? We want to know what we’re missing? Have our memories unlocked?” I ask.

“If that’s even possible,” Lance grumbles.

“I want to know,” Larissa says firmly. “You want to remain in the dark, in Daddy’s shadow…” She smirks at him and then winks at me.

I grin as, one by one, my siblings all nod or voice their agreement.

Lance, the last holdout, throws his hands up into the air. “Fine! Whatever.”

“Road trip!” I declare, and I snap my fingers, bringing my hellhounds with me as I teleport out of there to the outskirts of Bethlehem.

CHAPTER 25

My siblings appear behind me in groups of twos and threes, and I call up Clarissa.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I think I should be asking you that,” she murmurs. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“I’m in the hospital, but so far, things seem to be okay. For now, at least. I’m going to have to maybe go on bedrest soon if this keeps up, though.”

I can’t help laughing grimly at that.

“Yeah, I know,” she mutters. “I’m not looking forward to that. Neither is Diego, but I’ll do whatever I have to.”

“Can you put Diego on?” I ask.

“I can, but I’d rather you just tell me whatever it is. I’m not fragile, and I’m not going to break under pressure.”

“Nah, you’re a pearl.”

Someone huffs behind me, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Lance.

“I do love oysters,” Clarissa says. “Don’t think I can have them right now.”

“Can’t have sushi either, right? I love sushi. Not sure which is my favorite, though.”

“I hate you,” she grumbles.

“I know,” I say cheerfully.

“Done twisting a knife straight into my gut?”

“Yep. Do you happen to know any witches?”

"I know several, actually. Mirella's probably busy, though."

“Mirella?” Lani asks.

I don’t have the call on speaker, but Clarissa talks loudly so she might as well be.

“Mirella Sharpe,” Lance states darkly.

I lift my eyebrows at him, but Clarissa offers more details.

“I guess witches have different kinds of magic,” she starts.

“Ten different disciplines,” I add.

“Right. She has nine.”

I’m not the only one to let out a whistle, impressed.

“Let me guess,” I say dryly. “She’s a paranormal executioner.”

“You got it.”

“She’s busy,” Lance snaps. “Does she know another witch?”

“Hey, buddy, how about you change your tone?” Clarissa snaps right back.

“You probably shouldn’t get your bp up,” I say.

“My blood pressure is just fine,” she mutters. “Yes, I do know of another witch. Where are you?”

I tell her, and she hangs up.

Fifteen minutes later, my siblings are starting to grumble when a witch appears in front of us.

She stares at me, at my hellhounds, at my siblings. She has an unlit cigarette in her hands, a glittering nose ring, short, spiky black hair, and dark-winged eyeliner.

“You all friends with Clarissa?” she asks.

“Not at all,” Lance snaps.

I throw him a glower over my shoulder. “I am,” I say, my tone perhaps a bit cooler than it should be.

“What is it you need exactly?” she asks. She runs her tongue along her teeth. Her upper right canine is gray, but the rest of her teeth are white.

“Help with unlocking our minds,” I say. “Can you help? Don’t waste our time if you can’t.”

“Touchy, touchy, ain’t ya?” She rolls her eyes. “All of you?”

I nod.

The witch blows out a breath. “Yeah, I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, not even trying to keep the skeptical tone from my voice.

“Yes. Give me ten minutes,” she says, and she promptly disappears.

The siblings grumble, making comments about their lack of faith in her, and I so get it. Messing with one’s mind… It’s dangerous, extremely so, and the risk of you losing your mind as a result is high, very high.

But we need to know the truth. We can’t just blindly accept the word of an older demon.

The witch returns with a bunch of ingredients and a cauldron. She sets about her work without a word.

Larissa, for once, takes a great interest in what the witch is doing, peppering her with questions. I hear the words “Into the Myst” and something about working with other witches.

“Do you think you should have other witches work with you?” Lance asks, his nose high in the air with disapproval.

"No," the witch says flatly. "Look. I get you don't trust me. If I were you, I wouldn't either. I've been through a lot over the years. I fancied myself a witch, realized I knew just about nothing, had to start all over… For a time, I thought witches were the only things that go bump in the night, but it turns out vampires are real, werewolves, sirens, djinn, demons, leprechauns, angels…"

“Yeah, and minotaurs, banshees, grim reapers, basilisk, goblins, and trolls and…”

The witch’s eyes widen even more. Yeah, sure seems to me that she still doesn’t know enough at all.

Lance shoots daggers at me. He doesn’t trust me, doesn’t trust her… He’s the one who will have memories the furthest back, but I don’t know if he’ll be willing to hand over his brain for the witch’s magical procedure.

The witch falls silent as my brothers and sisters start to grumble and complain. Larissa goes back to questioning her about the various herbs and ingredients and all of that.

Finally, the witch produces a chalice-looking cup from somewhere. I’m not even sure where. She’s wearing jeans and a billowing shirt. No purse that I can see. Maybe she had it all along with the ingredients she’d brought with her.

“Who wants to drink first?” she asks.

“I will,” I say, stepping forward toward her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Larissa says. “If we have older siblings, you would’ve been too young to have known them.”

“Are you volunteering to go first then?” Lance asks her.

“Guess so,” she counters in a tone that suggests she thinks Lance’s indifference should be beneath him.

Larissa approaches as close as she can. The witch seems a bit confused that Larissa doesn’t come all the way up to her, but she hands over the cup just the same.

Larissa gulps three times before the witch taps her shoulder.

“Well?” Leo asks impatiently.

“It might take some time—” the witch starts.

Larissa shudders. She turns to face us, and her eyes start to glow. I swear dark beams of light shine from them, and then she shakes her head and blinks, and the light and glow fade away.

“Did it work?” Lucas asks.

All eyes are on our eldest sister. She makes the strangest sound, maybe a choked-back sob, and she crumbles to the ground. Larissa rocks back and forth.

“Give me that,” Lance demands, and he chugs his three swallows. His eyes glow and shine, too, only his beam is yellow-gold, unsurprising given his eye coloring. A violent tremor shakes his entire frame, and he wordlessly passes the chalice to Leo.

One by one, from eldest going toward the youngest—me—we drink from the chalice. Well, all of them but me.

Lani drinks from it and then goes to hand it to me, but Lance cuts her off, grabs the chalice, and dumps the rest onto the ground.

“Brimstone and ashes, what was that for?” I demand.

"Each and every one of his children before us rose up against him," Lance says, his tone oddly detached. Honestly, he sounds like Larissa, apathetic and indifferent.

“So they were all killed, weren’t they?” I demand. “Lucifer killed them himself, didn’t he?”

Larissa nods solemnly.

My eyes narrow on Lance. “You had no right—”

“You don’t want to remember,” Lucas says softly.

I glance around at all of my siblings. Even Lola looks appalled. Now that’s saying something.

My stomach twists into knots. I don’t like that they can recall things that I can’t.

“Thank you,” Larissa says to the witch.

I move to step forward, my lips parting, but Lance grabs my arm and jerks me backward.

“We appreciate your help,” Lance says in a clear and blatant, obvious dismissal.

“I want—” I start, but Larissa cuts me off.

“You don’t,” she says softly, shaking her head.

From the looks my siblings are giving me, I really don’t want to know, but I don’t care. I can be as stubborn as a mule, and I’m ready to demand that I’m given my fair shake when Lani comes up and squeezes my hand.

“You wouldn’t remember them anyhow,” she says softly. “I shielded you.”

“Shielded me,” I repeat dully

“You were only a baby. I hardly remember them myself, but… I saw the…” She closes her eyes a moment.

Lola, the death mistress that she is, even shudders. “Leave it, Lydia.”

Despite wanting to rip out my hair, to scream and rant and rave, I stare up at the heavens and nod for the witch to hurry up and hustle out of here.

And she wastes no time doing just that.

I yank my hand away from Lani and march to the front and then turn around to face them all.

“Lucifer has killed all of his children up until now. Why? Because they went up against him, yes, but why hasn’t he gone after us yet?” I demand.

“Maybe because we haven’t gone up against him?” Lance asks smugly, his tone suggesting that I’m an idiot for considering it.

But I’m not just considering it.

I’m doing it.

“He carefully crafted us, molded each of us. We’re the embodiment of sin, of vices. He doesn’t want us dead, but he also doesn’t want to let us have the freedom to do as we will. We’re his puppets, and—”

“If we pluck the strings and cut them, then he’ll just turn around and cut us until we’re dead,” Lance counters.

“Must you be so pessimistic?” I snap. “Can you all see? Divide, we will fall. One by one, we’ll rise against him, and he’ll kill us one by one, but together… together we stand a chance. That’s all we need—a fighting chance.”

“To do what exactly?” Lola asks. “We can’t…”

“No, we can’t kill him,” I say for her, even though she should have no problem saying the word “kill.”

“Then what’s the point?” Lance asks.

“Don’t you listen?” Larissa asks, her gaze not wavering from my face. “She wants us to have free will, to make our own choices, to create our own destinies. Lucifer would never allow that.”

I beam at my eldest sister before scowling at my eldest brother. "Can't you see that there's more to this than just for us? How many siblings were born and killed before we were even born? They died for what? They wished to rise up against Lucifer because he is the devil. He's vicious and cruel, and yes, he's demonic just like the rest of us, but he's also nothing like the rest of us. We cannot continue this way. We can't continue to fight one another. No, something has to give. Something has to stop, and it needs to stop now."

I inhale deeply. This whole movement has grown so much. At first, I only wanted to get back at my father. I wanted to annoy him.

Now, I won’t say I want to end him, but maybe we can end his rule or at least alter it such that we can live our lives the way we choose. We can love if we wish, can start a family, can choose a profession… Maybe we can live on Earth instead of in Hell, and we can become whoever we wish to be.

But for this to work, we must work together, all twelve of us.

“Who is with me?” I ask boldly. “Who will stand up the tyrant, not so we can replace him. We do not want the apocalypse. All we wish for is a brighter future, a future of our choosing. Now, who is with me?”

CHAPTER 26

Landon shakes his head. "I don't think this is a conversation for here, on Earth."

“Come on, Lydia,” Logan adds. “You know he’s right.”

I glower at them both. “So you’re still both—”

Landon takes one of my arms, Logan the other, and they whisk me away to Hell. The others all follow suit, and I’m a bit shocked but also blessed that they bring me to one of the spots where I enjoy playing with my hellhounds. Demonfang and Shadechomp are here, too, and they’re wrestling each other playfully.

Lola crouches near them, tilting her head as she watches them roll around. “They’ve killed before, haven’t they?” she asks.

I shrug one shoulder. “Of course. They kill to eat—”

“They’ve ingested human flesh, haven’t they?”

I exhale a breath and ignore the death-obsessed demoness, focusing instead on Landon and Logan, who, thankfully for their sakes, released me once we teleported here.

“Well?” I demand.

Lucas crosses over and pats my shoulder. “I’m in.”

“Should’ve been from the start,” I mutter under my breath.

“I know,” he mouths, and I feel so much lighter but also a bit sadder too. Why hadn’t he joined me from the beginning? Had he thought I was joking? That I would fail?

Larissa shudders. Whatever she can recall now, it’s really bothering her. “I’ll join your cause,” she murmurs, and she stares hard at Lance.

My eldest brother turns his back to us.

“Might as well,” Logan says with a shrug.

“What do I get out of it?” Landon asks.

“Greedy as ever,” I snap.

“No. Pragmatic as ever. You want something from me… Stands to reason that I should get something in return.”

“How about you get to continue breathing?” I ask dryly. “Or did you forget that you now all know that Lucifer killed his previous children? I’m sure he professed to love…”

I trail off. I can’t really say that Lucifer’s ever truly professed to love any of us. It’s a thought that leaves a sour taste in my mouth, a metallic taste like blood.

“Oh, stop acting as if Lucifer never loved you,” Lance growls, his voice thick with envy. “You’re the only one he has that stupid nickname for.”

“It’s a nickname she should take pride in,” Logan says, but if anyone knows when to take pride in something, it’s not him considering he takes pride in absolutely everything he does, no matter how absurd it might be.

“Why do you say that?” Lily asks. Her scowl might be dark, but it doesn’t mar her beauty. In fact, it somehow makes her even more stunning. Stupid succubi.

“Bright One,” Larissa murmurs. “Considering Lucifer meanings Light Bringer…”

I meet her gaze, and my normally apathetic sister grins and mouths, “Noctifer.”

I beam at her, thrilled she recalled our conversation that seems like a lifetime ago, when she tried to tell me I was crazy for this venture.

“I guess breathing is good enough for me,” Landon says with a sigh, but his dark eyes turn even darker. “I do not want Lucifer to kill me, so I’ll join.”

“That’s just it,” Lola snaps. She waltzes forward to enter the almost circle we’ve created. “What’s the point in all of this?”

“She already said,” Larissa bites back. “Don’t you listen?”

“As if you’ve been known to be such a good listening,” Lola shoots back.

“Right because being bored all the time means all I do is zone out and not listen… except I do listen to you all. It’s not my fault you all bore me to tears.”

“You never cry,” Lara says.

Larissa rolls her eyes, but Lara’s right. I’ve never seen Larissa shed a tear.

“My issue,” Lola starts, but I interrupt her.

“You know we can’t kill Lucifer, right?” I do my best to not use my duh tone, but it might’ve slipped in anyhow. Whoops.

"Don't worry," Leo says, sweeping into the rescue. He drapes an arm around Lola's shoulders. "You see, we're going to war, and with a war, there is always plenty of death."

“Lucifer won’t think we’re a challenge, though,” Lola protests. “He won’t build an army.”

“And he’ll learn to regret that,” I say easily, but I think she’s wrong. I think Lucifer will send goons out to toy with us because he won’t be bothered to face us himself. If he planned to meet us head on, he would’ve long before now.

“He’ll send an army,” Leo insists.

“Fine.” Lola waves her hands in a way that makes me think of the sign for applause.

Yeah, Lola can be a drama queen for a goth.

Which leaves Lily and Lance as the sole two holdouts. As much as I don’t want anything to do with Lily, I figure she’ll be the easier of the two to convince, but I don’t even have to say anything.

“Oh, I’m in. Lucifer has to be controlled,” she says excitedly, her face bright again, her eyes shining.

Ugh. Gag me. She wants to do this for Christopher. I guess… yeah… the only way any of us would have a chance with an angel would be for us to have some serious leverage on Lucifer. Not that I want to be with an angel. I don’t. I just don’t want Lily with Christopher.

And then there was one.

“Lance,” I say.

He still has his back to us.

Slowly, he lifts his hands and snaps his fingers. “Leave us,” he orders.

One by one, my siblings do, Lucas last of all. I have to nod before he goes.

A deep inhale does nothing to settle my nerves. Why am I so frazzled around him? Is it because he's spent the most time around the Prince of Darkness that I'm worried Lance is the one most like Lucifer? You might not think envy is one of the worst sins in the world, but the more envious you are, the darker you are, the more depraved and twisted you're willing to become in order to get what you want.

“You wanted me alone. I’m here alone,” I say, holding out my hands as he twists around to see me.

His gaze shifts over to the right. My hellhounds are still roughhousing. Seems like they caught some kind of animal. They’re playing tug-of-war with it.

“Lydia, you’re nothing more than a little girl and her hellhounds. That’s all you’ll ever be. I honestly can’t fathom how you fell for that ridiculous ruse. As if Lucifer would ever pick you out of the lot of us!”

“We all know he wouldn’t pick you,” I say, my tone cool. I’m unaffected by his words precisely because I know Lucifer would never bother to consider Lance.

But he is right about one thing. I am the only one to have a nickname.

Why?

I'm also the only one out of us siblings to know my mother. Well, I know her name, at least. Latisha. I've never seen her, though. Lucifer… I can't quite recall what had been said, but I know I can't ever go see her.

He’s affected me somehow. Maybe more than just tampered with my memories. Even though I know I want to see her, to talk to her, to gain some advice from her, I can’t. I know I can’t, that I won’t.

It’s the physical can’t that sickens me.

We aren’t children to him. We’re puppets, playthings that he can manipulate and control, and once we realize this and we fight back to gain some autonomy, that’s when he’s decided he’s had enough and kills us. It’s almost as if he’s been experimenting with us, specifically this batch of children, because I really am wondering if he forced my siblings toward their individual vices, toward their penchant toward a role of one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

But I’m the odd one out. I’m not like the others.

Maybe he never intended for me to be born.

I swallow hard, trying to push aside my worries and fears, and I glare at Lance. “Lucifer punished you the most recently of us all.”

“Ah, yes, but he played you for the fool you are,” he counters easily.

“How can you go on and on about him? He’s not wonderful.”

“Of course he isn’t. He’s Lucifer. He does what he wants, and he always gets his way. Who wouldn’t want to be on his good side? You apparently, and you convinced our siblings to share in your stupid beliefs. You’re going to get each and every one of you killed.”

“Why?” I spit out. “Why wouldn’t you allow me to have my memories restored?”

His glowing eyes darken quite a bit, casting shadows on his cheeks. “Didn’t you hear Lani? You probably didn’t have any memories wiped. You were nothing but a baby when…”

“When what? Tell me what happened,” I plead.

He shakes his face. His scowl is twisted and sinister. I’ve never seen him like this before, and honestly, it’s a bit frightening.

“Why don’t you go and ask that demon who planted that idea in your head? He was right about Lucifer killing his children. Maybe he’ll continue to tell you the truth. You know…” Lance clenches and unclenches his fist. His fingers are claws, but the rest of him is human… for now at least. “You hardly spent time with any of us. You weren’t really ever our friend.”

“As if the lot of you are friends!” I protest. “Leo and Lucas—”

“Yes, they’re always at odds, but they would never truly harm each other. They’re best friends.”

“Lara and Lena—”

“They are two peas in a pod.”

I snort. Lena would eat the pod, and Lara would scold her for it.”

“Did you ever stop to think that they spend so much time together because they’re trying to understand each other?” he snaps.

I’m so shocked by the thought that never occurred to me that I take a step back.

"Of course not. You just spent your time with your hellhounds, and whatever. We didn't care, and we still don't, but now…" Disgusted, he shakes his head. "Now look at the company you're keeping. Clarissa. Calli, who's a paranormal slayer. Next, you'll befriend an angel or two."

I do my best not to react to any of this.

“So go on. Ask that demon if you want answers so badly.”

“I don’t want to know from some random demon,” I burst out. “I want to know for myself and hear it from the lips of—”

“Someone you trust?” Lance looks ready to burst into flames at any moment. “Because you sure don’t trust me.”

“How can I? You specifically told me about Calli’s father. Do you know how sick and twisted you are to have used hellhounds on her father? All to make it so Calli would think I did it! That I was the one to kill her father!”

“What does it matter if she thought you did it? Why be friends with the likes of her?”

“She is a vampire,” I counter.

He snorts. “A vampire who doesn’t kill. Not much of a vampire, if you ask me.”

“I’m not asking you,” I fume.

Without warning, Lance smiles and even chuckles a bit. “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia…”

"Just confess already! Tell me you did it!" I slap his chest and then shove him back. He staggers back. To appease me, maybe? I don't know, but I don't think I should've been able to force him back without his help. I'm strong but not that strong.

Although bloodlust does give a person incredible strength.

I’ve never experienced bloodlust, never been that full of rage, never been willing to let go of my restraint and control.

But I am fury and rage and hurt. I’m so very hurt.

“I feel like you betrayed me,” I finally whisper, hanging my head. My hair falls down over my shoulders to cover the sides of my face.

Lance lifts my chin. For once, he’s being tender and sincere.

“I won’t confess,” he says simply. “I won’t confess because if I did, I would be lying. I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t do it. I swear in the name of the mother I don’t know that I didn’t do it.

CHAPTER 27

I can’t believe it.

“You swear you didn’t?” I whisper.

“I already swore, but if you want me to swear again…”

“On your mother… You didn’t, did you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t?”

“But if you didn’t…” Feeling utterly lost, I blink a few times and shake my head. “I really don’t… Who else…”

"I don't blame you for thinking it was me," he remarks dryly. "I think he wanted that to be the case."

He.

Who else?

“Lucifer,” I growl out.

But it’s faux anger. It’s not real. I mean, yes, of course I’m furious that I had been played like that, but I’m even more terrified.

Lucifer is already fighting the war.

He’s just fighting dirty.

He’s honing in on my friends.

Even people I’ve only just met and haven’t even really truly befriended yet

Because going after Calli’s father is one thing, although that pretending to be me is for the birds.

But his having that ogre go after Calli…

That ogre.

I lift my lowered head and meet Lance’s gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you at your word immediately.”

“I understand. We all lie from time to time, don’t we?”

“Yes, but…” I shake my head. “I… I think I need a moment.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?”

I roll my eyes and make a scoffing sound. “I declared war on Lucifer, yes, which some might consider stupid, but I’m trying to gain allies, so that’s smart. Why would I want to gain allies but then ignore them and leave them behind so I can take Lucifer on myself? I don’t have a death wish.”

“But you are going to run off somewhere, aren’t you?”

I appraise him. “I believe that you didn’t kill Calli’s father,” I say slowly.

“But you don’t trust me.”

"You're the only holdout."

Lance runs a hand down his face and says nothing.

“See?” I go to gather my hellhounds, but they’re sleeping peacefully, and I don’t have the heart to disturb them even though I desperately need a hug right now.

“I don’t see how you can trust me.”

I turn only my head toward him, but I can’t see him from this angle. I don’t want to face him just now. For some reason, I feel so very raw and vulnerable, and I don’t like that feeling at all.

“Why do you think I can’t trust you?” I finally ask when he doesn’t expand on his statement.

“Not after what I did.”

“What are you referring to?” I ask slowly.

“Not allowing you the potion. I thought to spare you any memories that you might have had. I don’t think you witnessed anything firsthand, but… We might have spoken to you about it before Lucifer went ahead and…”

“Well, yes, I’m furious about that with you, but I do think that, for once, your intentions were good even if you were in the wrong.” I bite my lower lip. “You saw him?”

“Yes, and Lucifer, he looked like I never saw him before. He was wild, crazed… He was the embodiment of evil, and it happened multiple times with several of his children. Years apart. It was… I had nightmares for a long time, but having those memories stripped away… Even the memories of the nightmares were gone.”

“And because you no longer had those memories, you no longer had nightmares about them.” I pause. “Do you think the nightmares will return?”

“They just might.” Lance appraises me. “On three other occasions, three brothers asked me to stand up with them, to rise up against Lucifer.”

“You told them each no, didn’t you?”

He nods.

“Well, you know what’s different this time?” I ask slyly.

Lance lifts his eyebrows as he waits.

“Seriously, dude…” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down.

His eyes narrow, and he huffs a sigh. "You have got to be kidding me."

I smile sweetly. “Never send in a guy to do a job that a woman can—”

“You’re a girl.”

I cross my arms and scowl. "I'm younger than you are, yes, but I'm old enough to—say, why haven't you married? You haven't been on a date ever."

“You mean, you haven’t known if I’ve been on a date or not.”

My appraisal leaves me curious. I can’t tell if he’s being serious. “A demoness?”

He nods.

"And it didn't work out. Why?"

"I'm not going to bear my heart to you," he says dryly. "We aren't that close."

“We should be,” I retort. “Come on. Might as well. When was this?”

“Years ago,” he mumbles.

“You haven’t been on a date in years? Why don’t any of us—”

“It’s because of…”

“He really did a number on us, didn’t he?” I murmur. “Hey! Wait a sec! If he’s stopped us from having lasting feelings for someone and you stopped me—”

“From what Leo told me, you didn’t seem to have that particular affliction,” Lance says, his tone and his look turning sinister again. He’s back to being envious of me again, this time because Lucifer didn’t curse me or whatever you want to call it.

I swallow hard. “Maybe because I never left Hell.” I swallow hard, not liking that Lance, who is still very much a wild card yet, knows about my… Can I even say that Christopher and I have a relationship? It’s all so very confusing, but I think—I hope—our time of trying to one-up each other with the biting remarks is long done and over with.

“Lily might’ve bypassed it somehow before the potion,” I mumble, trying to divert attention away from me.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm sure she's had relationships of some kind, even if they all end the same way—with her sucking the soul of the hapless idiot."

“Because only idiots aren’t immune to succubi.” I shake my head. “Aren’t even demons affected by succubi wiles?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he remarks dryly.

I tilt my head to the side. “You avoid them, huh? Why is that?”

“Maybe because our father didn’t want me to entangle with them. It’s amazing to see how much he’s affected me.”

I nod slowly, trying not to let my resentment build that Lance prevented me from having that potion. I’m going to have to track down that witch and see if she’ll make me some.

“You want to go now,” Lance comments.

He’s not wrong.

“How can you tell?” I ask.

“You’re flying up and down the same few inches for a minute now.”

I hadn’t even realized that. With an awkward laugh, I let my feet touch the ground.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Just be smart, Lydia.”

“Because I need your permission and the reminder,” I say dryly.

“The world is a scary place,” he comments, and no place more so than here in Hell.”

“Don’t I know it.”

I nod to him and teleport away to my room. From there, I attempt to focus on my connection to the ogre I killed, the one who attacked Calli. By drawing on that bond forged in death, the death I enforced, I’m able to pinpoint the exact spot in Hell where the ogre’s soul is this very moment.

Imagine my surprise that the soul isn’t where most newbie souls are. He’s not being tortured. No, he’s been given a fair amount of freedom, and that only serves to further confirm what Lance told me.

Lucifer was not only the one to kill Calli’s father himself—or had one of his goons do it and told them precisely how to do it or else just ordered the hellhounds to do it directly. He had also been the one to send the ogre after Calli.

But I need to know that for certain.

I teleport to the location of the ogre's soul. He's staring into the Blood River. Inside the bubbles of the bloody magma are memories. Unfortunately, you can't control which memories you see, and even worse, not all of the memories you'll see are your own.

The soul stares into one bubble, his expression a bit dazed. He doesn’t even realize I’m here. To be fair, I’m standing behind him.

I cough. The soul jerks and whirls around.

“You,” he says. He runs his tongue along his razor-sharp teeth. He’s not fully formed. No souls are, but he appears much as he had before I killed him. No marks are visible on his soul, not one of his deathly wounds, which is yet another sign that he’s getting preferential treatment.

“Me.” I wiggle my fingers. “You enjoying yourself?”

He draws back, watching me through narrowed, beady eyes.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t trust me. I know how to make souls go poof!” I snap my fingers. “So don’t try anything. Just tell me the truth.”

The ogre says nothing.

“You do know how to tell the truth, don’t you?”

He inhales. Souls, of course, don’t need to breathe or eat or any of that, but newbie souls tend to anyhow just because of habit. It looks ridiculous. Sounds ridiculous. Is ridiculous. Just accept that you’re dead already.

“Who told you to go after Calli?” I ask.

The ogre smirks.

Oh, he thinks he can hold out on me? Or that he knows something I don’t know?

I don’t think so. I know my father and all of his tricks, so nope. Not gonna slide.

“By the by,” I say idly, “did you know that any, ah, stipulations, any vows, anything like that… they all go away the moment you’ve been killed? So, say, if someone were to force you to be unable to tell anyone about what they wanted you to do… You could tell me now.”

The ogre merely shrugs.

I motion for him to come closer. He doesn’t, so I merely teleport around him and put him into a tight headlock. The moment my fingers touch the side of his soul’s temple, I can enter into his essence in such a way that I can shove the memory out of him and into one of the bubbles of bloody magma.

I release the ogre's soul and use the wind to bring that bubble toward me and watch as my father converses with the ogre. There's no sound like there should be. My father's magic is powerful. He truly didn't want anyone to learn what he had been up to.

“So my father did send you,” I suppose aloud, watching the memory’s events over again.

The ogre blows out a breath, his shoulders crumbling some.

And that’s when I realize that the ogre’s lost to me twice. I’ve gained his memory, and Lucifer’s bound to find out. Once he does, the privileges the ogre has been experiencing will all go away.

“You might as well tell me the rest, and maybe I can try to help conceal what I know from him as long as possible,” I murmur.

“It might be better for you to just banish my soul to nothingness,” he grumbles.

“If that is what you wish…”

The ogre hangs his head. “I’ve made mistakes in my life. I know that. I lost a woman who meant everything to me and all because I… I wasn’t there for her when she needed me to be. After I lost her, I didn’t see the point in doing what some would consider right or just. I just took whatever I needed, and there were times when a shadowy form would come to me and ask me to do this or that in exchange for riches or certain… things.”

“And it was…”

The ogre glances all around as if he's expecting Lucifer to jump out and shout, "Boo!"

“Yes,” he grumbles under his breath. “I realized it was him based on his promises, on his delivers, and he asked for more and more dangerous things. I learned not to ask any questions.”

Even though he’s a soul, he’s still wearing a shirt, and he lifts it to reveal a terribly long nasty scar that spans from almost his neck down to his navel, all jagged and twisted.

"So when he asked me to kill her, I didn't hesitate," he mumbles. "I didn't think to question even though he told me that someone might be along to try and stop me, but you… I never thought I couldn't handle it. I'm fifty years old. I have so many kills under my belt. I never thought a young demoness—"

“I’m not as young as I look,” I say dryly.

“And you aren’t any demoness either.” He nods a few times. “Will you please… spare me…”

“Are you sure?” I ask quietly. “There’s no coming back—”

“I don’t want to come back. I lost… I lost everything with Grilda, but it was only at the end that I lost my soul, and I don’t even… This isn’t for me. I’m a goner. Please.”

Some can only completely destroy a soul with a special dagger or a ritual or something like that, but I’m not just any demon. This isn’t like a succubus sucking a soul. This is something else altogether as I once again reach into the ogre, but this time, straight into the center of his soul, to his very essence, and I rip him apart, shredding him into there’s absolutely nothing left.

He’s gone.

And I disappear from this spot in a plume of smoke.

CHAPTER 28

I debate going to see Calli or even going to see her father, but in the end, I don’t do either. The more I interact with her, the more I fear Lucifer will go after her again, and that’s the last thing I want. As for her dad, well, what would I say to him?

"Hey, I'm sorry my father killed you. The hellhounds were because of me. Yeah, really sorry. Oh, and being friends with me caused an ogre to go after your daughter, but she's fine. Don't worry. That ogre is smote, yo."

Yeah, I don’t think that would go over too well at all.

Likewise, I don’t even want to risk calling Clarissa. And Christopher is a no-go, even as I’m left to wonder if Lily might be with him. I’m not sure where the others have gone off to.

This. This is why I don’t normally have friends. This is why I keep to myself. Just a girl and her hellhounds.

Yes, my hellhounds. They’re who I need right now.

But before I can teleport to them, my stomach grumbles so loudly it’s embarrassing despite no one else being anywhere near me.

At this point, maybe it’s a little absurd to be worried about my hunger strike, but I teleport to where Lara is. To my surprise, she’s in the kitchen, at the stove, a fire brewing in front of her, the scent of meat heavy in the air.

As I watch in shocked amazement, she plates the meat and turns around.

“For me?” I ask, gaping at her as she hands me the plate.

“Yes,” she murmurs.

“But…”

“We’re all different,” she says, her tone still soft. “We all have different needs.”

“What do you need?” I gently pry.

"Maybe to eat a little more. You know how Lena's mentioned on more than one occasion that she gets a brain fog when she doesn't eat enough? I live with that constantly, I think. I'll drink so much water every day to try to stave off the hunger that I don't know how I don't float away, how I can still conjure fire. It's like… It's like we're all our own worst enemies."

“I think that’s exactly how someone wants us to be,” I say firmly.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Eat,” she orders.

“Are you going to?”

“I’ll make myself a salad.”

I want to laugh but don’t. A salad is a good start, but…

“Where’s Lena?” I ask. Normally, if someone’s cooking, she’s in the kitchen.

“She’s out for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“She…” Lara shudders. “The two of us were right here, in the kitchen, and…” Her gaze shifts to the window, to the yard between our mansion and the boys’. “We were arguing about food when we saw… It wasn’t a fighter. It was a massacre.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Yeah, well, I was eight at the time, Lena six. You… I don’t remember if you were born yet or not, but we shouldn’t have been alone in the kitchen. We hadn’t yet mastered fire, and cooking… Lena almost burned down the entire mansion.”

“Trying to cook a meal?”

“No. She was that frightened by what we saw.”

“Do you think…” I bite my lower lip. “Do you think Lucifer stole away those painful memories to help you cope? To make you forget for your sake?”

“No,” she says flatly. “He did it because he wanted us to not realize that he could be so wicked and cruel toward his own children. He wanted us to be his to control.”

“And now that your eyes have been opened?”

She holds my gaze for a long moment and then rubs the back of her neck. “I know you volunteered to do the hunger strike, but I knew it was for the wrong reason. I shouldn’t have asked that of you, shouldn’t have put it on you, but Lance shouldn’t have taken away your chance to have any memories restored. I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s not as if I can’t go back and see that witch,” I say lightly.

“If she’s still alive,” Lara murmurs.

I flinch. “True enough.”

“If you mean to see her, you should do so now before he has a chance…”

I nod and impulsively embrace her. “I know we aren’t really a lovey-dovey family, but I do love you.”

“Gah, you’re going to make me lose my appetite,” she jokes, and we both laugh.

After another quick squeeze, I teleport back to where my hellhounds are, taking the plate with me. We can eat together and then head to Earth for the potion. After that… I’m not sure what’ll happen after that.

Lance is gone, which doesn't surprise me, and I kneel beside my hellhounds. They're still sleeping, but as soon as I touch Demonfang's right head, I know something's wrong. I can smell it, sense it.

Poison.

Oh, no. No way. This is completely and wholly unacceptable. If I thought it terrible and wrong that Lucifer used hellhounds to frame me for murder, this is even worse. I never thought he would sink this low. He knows what my hellhounds mean to me.

I pick up Demonfang and rub against him, trying to get him to wake up, to stir, to move, to do anything, but he doesn’t. My shaking hand brushes his fur, which is oddly wet. Oh. I’m bawling. That’s why he’s wet.

Heal. I have to heal them somehow. I… There. I gently lay Demonfang back down on the ground beside his brother, and I snatch a firebeast. The demented-looking reptile doesn’t appreciate being picked up, and I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate my draining every bit of his life away.

But it doesn’t work. Draining his life to attempt to heal Demonfang does nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Rage has me trembling, and I’m so utterly lost. I want to collapse with grief, but I can’t. They’re alive yet, but if I dare to attack Lucifer now, they will die.

No, I have to stay with them and stop leaving them behind. They need to be with me at all times.

But I can’t help them. I can’t heal them because I don’t know how to.

Even though teleporting might cause them even more harm, it’s a risk I have to take. They mean too much to me for me to leave it up to fate, to chance if they survive this attempt on their lives.

So I teleport to the Golden Expanse. I should get my phone, call Crystal, someone, anyone, but all I can do is sob and rock back and forth, cradling my hellhounds to me as much as I can.

I’m not sure how long passes before Christopher is there. I feel hands on my shoulders, but I’m so out of it that I can’t even see him at first, and then I finally do make out his form, but I can’t hear what he’s saying, although I know his lips are moving.

Finally, I can read his lips.

“What happened?”

“My father,” I whimper. “Poison. I think. Can you… Please, I’m begging you… If you need to, draw from me, all of me, everything I have, only please, help them.”

Christopher is kneeling in front of me. Slowly, he has to push my arm away so that he can untangle Shadechomp from me. His hands brush over the hellhound’s fur, and I’m worried the hellhound will burn the angel or that healing the hellhound will be something the guardian angel simply can’t do.

Angels can heal just about anything but a creature born of Hellfire? This might be asking too much of the laws of nature.

And that’s if Christopher even wants to do this.

“I know we didn’t get off on the right wing,” I murmur, “but these… they’re my oldest friends. I can’t imagine life without them. If they… If he’s killed them… He’s done so many unspeakable things, I know, even things worse than this, but… this is the worst thing he ever could’ve done to me. Christopher, please… I tried… I failed… You can’t fail.”

A whimper bursts out of me as I cradle Demonfang to my chest. None of his four eyes have opened this entire time, and neither have Shadechomp's. They're both as still as death, and even their fires are running cold. The flames are actually a bit black in color.

“You’ll try, won’t you?” I murmur when the angel says nothing. “Please! I’ll… I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll pay any price, do anything at all.”

“I can try,” he murmurs.

My elation lasts for only a second. His face is grim, and I'm terrified he thinks he can't help, that he won't be able to heal them. What then? What will that mean for my hellhounds? Are they going to die after all? What good is a guardian angel who can't save lives?

But not all lives can be saved.

People die every day.

Hellhounds can die too.

I hold out my hand, wanting him to draw from me.

He takes my hand in his and wraps his other hand on top. “I will try,” he says.

And that’s when I realize that he’ll try, but he can’t promise me anything.

He thinks my hellhounds might die.

He’s trying to prepare me for what might inevitably happen.

And tears stream down my face even harder now. I don’t sob, though. I don’t make a sound at all. The tears just pour out of me, my sorrow leaking out of my body in watery form, but I have enough sorrow within me to last a lifetime.

If my hellhounds die… Lucifer will be the one to pay the ultimate price. It won’t even matter to me if I start the apocalypse. All of Hell can burn to the ground for all I care.

CHAPTER 29

I’m falling apart. I’m so very weak. Of course Lucifer would know the way to rip out my heart and stomp on it. There’s nothing else he could’ve done that would’ve hurt me as badly as this.

What if there’s only one way to heal them? Only one antidote? What if Lucifer has it right now and my coming to Christopher instead of him dooms them?

No. No, that can’t be. Everything happens for a reason, right? If I go to Lucifer now, he’ll kill me, and my hellhounds will die anyhow. I’m sure of it.

Christopher is my best chance.

“What do you need?” I murmur.

Christopher is running his hands all over Shadechomp. His hand hovers over the hellhound’s torso.

“He ingested the poison,” Christopher murmurs.

“How do you know?”

“I can sense the inner workings of his body, its strength and weakness, and it’s clear to me that he’s…”

“He’s dying from his stomach?”

The angel’s silence is confirmation enough.

“Does he need an antidote?” I ask timidly.

“Lydia,” Christopher says. He has Shadechomp in his lap, and I have Demonfang on mine, but that doesn’t stop Christopher from leaning forward and cupping my face. “Look at me. Trust me. Believe in me. Have faith. I will do what I can, but your questions, your doubt, your worry and fear? You need to banish it now.”

“Right because I can just turn off my emotions—”

“You can,” he says calmly. “If you want to, you can feel anything at all.”

"How am I supposed to feel happy right now?" I argue.

“Maybe because you can focus on someone else other than your hellhounds.”

“But they need me,” I protest.

“You need them,” he counters.

My mouth hangs open.

“Confusion is better than fear,” he mumbles.

My emotions are affecting his ability to heal them? Fine. He wants me happy? I’ll try?

Yeah, that's failing. To have to rely on someone else to save my hellhounds makes me so utterly frustrated, but I try not to think of it that way and watch as his hands glow from black to purple to a light blue back to black and slowly lightening to brown and then gray and finally white.

Shadechomp’s body begins to convulse, and I whimper despite myself. I try to reach for him, but Christopher shifts just enough to block me, and I’m left helpless, capable only of watching as Christopher pries open Shadechomp’s two mouths. Black smoke and then gunk ooze out of his mouths, burning the grass with a loud hiss.

Finally, the smoke dissipates, but the amount of gunk that’s coming out of him alarms me, but the more the gunk leaves him, the less and less violent the convulsions become until finally, they both stop.

Shadechomp remains sleeping yet, and Christopher and I exchange hellhounds.

“Shadechomp,” I murmur, petting his heads and necks. “Please, wake up. Please. I need to see your eyes. I need to know you’re all right.”

I’m not sure how long it takes, but finally, Demonfang’s convulsions also come to an end, but he, too, seems to be slumbering.

“Why aren’t they waking up?” I ask desperately.

“I’m not done working on them yet,” Christopher says, his tone wan.

“You’re not strong enough. Here.” I rest Shadechomp onto the ground, stand, and place my hands on Christopher’s shoulders.

“Lydia, I can’t risk it.”

“My emotions are under control,” I assure him as I start to massage his shoulders. He’s so very tense and tight. “You don’t have to worry. I’m sorry I was so hysterical earlier, but you’re right. I can control my emotions. Being scared is one thing, but to overreact like that…”

“That’s a sign of love. Of grief.”

I swallow hard. “How can you grieve those who are living yet?”

“When you fear their death… You can grieve at any time. You can mourn a friendship that ends.”

“Even if you can’t save them, we’ll still be friends,” I murmur.

“I recall specifically telling you we aren’t friends.”

“Maybe you were right then, but if you say that now, you would be lying. You know, I’ve always thought it wrong that when a person lies, their pants aren’t set on fire or that their noses don’t grow.” I tilt my head to the side. “Would your tongue start to bleed or catch on fire or fall out of your mouth if you dared to tell a lie?”

“That’s not how it works,” he tells me dryly.

“I guess that’s a good thing.” I rub harder. “You’re so uptight. Relax.”

“I can’t. I’m too…”

“You’re too worried and afraid?” I ask.

He says nothing.

I crouch down and whisper in his ear, “Let me take your worries and fears.”

“You only just got rid of your own,” he protests.

“You can’t risk your mind being preoccupied,” I insist.

Christopher brings his hands together, steepling his fingers, and he lowers his head, eyes closed. A few deep breathes, and he resumes his work. I’m not sure what he’s doing, if he’s saying prayers or not. His lips are moving, but I hear no words, and his hands are glowing as he touches one of the heads of Demonfang and Shadechomp’s chest.

Beneath my fingertips, I can feel the strength and magic flow out of Christopher. He’s pouring too much of himself into this, and I attempt to do something I’ve never tried before.

I try to drain my own life and pass it onto Christopher.

Just like that, his stiffness melts away. His breathing seems to regulate, and the brightness of his glowing hands increases to the point that I have to look away.

The stench of decay and burnt flesh has me turning back toward them. Demonfang is all ablaze, and he slowly climbs to his feet.

“Demonfang!” I long to run up to him, to cradle him, but I can’t. I have to wait until Christopher has healed Shadechomp, too, which, thankfully, only takes a few more minutes.

Exhausted as if I gave almost all of myself, I collapse. My hellhounds limp over to me. They’re better, but not one hundred percent yet, which is perfectly understandable. They lick me, nudging against me, and Demonfang even nips me a few times.

"He's hungry," I murmur as I try to have them both on my lap at the same time, even though my lap isn't quite large enough for them. "I had food for them, but I must've left it behind."

“I can… I’ll get us food in a few,” Christopher murmurs.

He’s so very pale, and I cup his face. “You aren’t going anywhere,” I inform him.

“But—”

“I can get us something,” I insist.

“You aren’t leaving them.”

“No. They can come with me.”

“They should stay here for a bit.”

I want to argue, but he’s probably right. “Fine, but you can wait longer than a few.”

He shakes his head and then nods toward them. “They’re going to start eating each other if they don’t have food and soon.”

“Probably,” I admit. “It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve bitten each other.”

He chuckles. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Me neither.” I exhale a deep breath.

It’s important, so crucial, to be able to control one’s emotions. I don’t ever want to have my emotions be the reason why Lucifer’s able to one-up me, but the swell of emotions swirling within me right now is far too large for me to not be swept up in them.

“What you did for them… What you did for us… I can’t ever repay you,” I murmur. “What can I do to start to repay that debt?”

“There is no debt.”

“Christopher, I…”

“You might be more valkyrie than you think.”

I blink back sudden, hot tears, refusing to cry anymore, half surprised that I still have any tears at all left. "That's not true at all because a valkyrie would want them to die so I could help bring them to their final resting spot."

“Grim reapers can lead to Hell or Heaven, but valkyries only ever bring souls to Heaven,” he explains.

“Oh. Well, they wouldn’t be going up there.”

“Why not?”

I snort. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because they’re hellhounds? Hellhounds,” I stress.

“They’re loved greatly by you.”

“As if I’m destined for Heaven. Besides, they aren’t innocent.” I pause. “Thank you for overlooking their sins. I really don’t know how I can—”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

I swallow hard. “In that case…”

“You want to know if you can heal.”

“Yes,” I blurt out. “I tried to watch what you did, but I don’t know how you did it. Was it magic? Your faith? Prayers? Because if it was prayers…”

“I’ll teach you some,” he murmurs.

“You will?” I brighten so much that Shadechomp stares at me with both heads that he then slowly shakes. A giggle escapes. I feel so utterly happy and peaceful here, as light as a feather.

Maybe that’s some of the reason why I had been able to focus and relax my daunting emotions. This place really does have a magic of its own.

“I will,” he assures me, “but not right now.”

“You need to recover your own strength first,” I suppose.

“I should try to, yes. They aren’t the only ones who need sustenance.”

Demonfang, acting and moving as strangely and timidly as a baby hellhound would walking for the first time, heads over to Christopher and nuzzles him as Demonfang only ever has me before. It warms my heart to see it, especially when Christopher pats the hellhound’s side.

“Aw, is someone a dog person, huh?” I tease.

“A dog person, yes,” he says slowly.

“A hellhound person,” I correct.

“Don’t push your luck,” he says, but he’s still patting Demonfang, and I just grin.

Until Christopher continues talking.

“I had an interesting conversation with Krystal Medina,” he says. “Seems you know her.”

“A witch with a nose ring and wicked eye makeup game?”

He makes a face. “Yes, she’s a witch with a nose ring, but, ah… I don’t pay attention to her eye makeup.”

“I think it’s safe to assume she’s the same person.” I snuggle Shadechomp to me. He wiggles a bit before settling. I might be hugging too hard, but I can’t bear to let him go. “What was this interesting conversation about?”

“How you and your siblings went to her for help unlocking memories that a certain someone kept from you all.”

I say nothing.

“She also commented on how you didn’t have that potion.”

I flinch. “Did she say why I didn’t?”

“No, she didn’t go into specifics.”

“It’s not that I want Lucifer to continue to have a hold on me,” I assure him. “Lance, my eldest brother, was trying to be protective of me for once, and—surprise, surprise—he overstepped his boundaries. He wouldn’t let me.”

There’s a long stretch of silence. It’s not an uncomfortable one, but I wouldn’t quite call it comfortable either.

“I can do it,” Christopher finally says. “If you want me to, that is. I have no idea what you might recall, what he buried within your psyche—”

“I already know that he suppressed the valkyrie side in me. That’s how I never knew, how my siblings never realized… As far as I know, they still don’t know.”

“And you still wish to keep them ignorant?”

I hug Shadechomp as if he can help protect me. “It’s not so much that I want to keep them ignorant,” I argue slowly. “It’s more that I only just got them onto my side. They’re going to fight with me against Lucifer, and I’m afraid that if they learn the truth, they won’t want to stand beside me even if they still want to take down Lucifer.”

“Your parentage shouldn’t change anything,” he protests.

“Not even the identity of my father?” I ask quietly.

The angel says nothing, which doesn’t shock me, but how hurt I feel as a result is a bit amazing in a terrible sense.

“He stripped my siblings’ memories of our other siblings, of how he killed them,” I mutter. “I was probably too young to remember any of that.”

“But he might’ve kept something else hidden from you,” Christopher says. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes. I do. Please. I know I’ve asked so much of you already, but if you could do this for me, I would… I would forever be in your debt between this and your healing the hellhounds.”

“You don’t owe me a thing,” he says softly.

“But why?” I ask.

Christopher just smiles wanly. “I’ll be back with food. Once we eat, then—”

“Why not before? Or do you need to eat for strength?”

“You might not have much of an appetite after,” he says after a moment.

He teleports away, and my stomach churns. He could very well be right.

Just what am I about to learn about myself? About my father?

Do I truly want to know?

CHAPTER 30

Christopher isn't a witch. He has us sit crossed-legged facing each other. One hellhound is sleeping right up against my thigh. The other leans against Christopher, both heads nodding off.

“You’re sure they’re fine?” I ask him worriedly.

“They ate their cheesesteaks and fries right down. They’re tired. They need a bit of time to recuperate their strength and fully recover, but they are no longer poisoned.”

Christopher returned from Crossroads twenty minutes ago. He made good on his promise of cheesesteaks. The angel hadn't even forgotten that I didn't want pickles on mine.

"What poison was it?" I ask.

Christopher appraises me. “Are you stalling?”

“No, of course not,” I say, maybe a little too quickly.

He lifts his eyebrows. “Darkest Smoke. I’ve only seen that poison once before.”

“What was it doing to them?” I murmur.

“Extinguishing their inner fire. You know hellhounds. Without their fire, they are dead. The fire was being snuffed out, turning to smoke, filling their lungs, slowly suffocating them. When you came upon them, it was like they were sleeping, right? That they could not be woken?”

I nod stiffly.

“They were not sleeping.”

"They were suffering without being able to move, weren't they?" I murmur, horrified. "But normally, I can sense their emotions. Why couldn't I feel their anguish?"

“There was a ward over them so that what they felt would be concealed.”

A darkness washes over me, and my desire to bring Lucifer down only increases to a staggering degree.

“Go ahead,” I urge.

Christopher closes his eyes, and I do the same. His fingers touch my temples.

My mind is opened. Christopher can probably see and know absolutely everything I’ve ever thought, but I can’t worry about any of that. I just need him to unlock any parts of me that have been locked away and hidden.

And that’s when I remember.

Latisha. My mother.

After Lucifer told me I was related to Lilith, I wanted to meet her so badly that I pretended to go on some kind of small quest for Lucifer. I was maybe three at the time. Very young, yes, but I already knew my way around Hell. It had been my playground. He wanted some firebeasts, for their pelts, I think. He never did say why, nor did I ever fetch them for him.

But I didn’t bother to gather any. Instead, I tracked down my mother. We spoke and hugged, and she told me about being related to Lilith, yes but also…

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

My eyes open.

Christopher’s expression is one of pure amusement.

“You’re not calling me Brynhild anymore,” I say hotly.

“But you really are related to her!”

“Yes. Sh. I’m still… Lucifer came. My mother told me about Brynhild, and that name was the last word she ever uttered. Lucifer appeared, and he sucked out her soul as if he was an incubus.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I bet he killed each and every one of our mothers too,” I fume. “Why? Why bother to do that?” I narrow my eyes. “I can’t tell… I don’t know if he knew about my mother’s lineage. She had been so proud of being from Lilith’s line, but she had been almost ashamed to admit to me that we had a bit of valkyrie in us from long, long ago.”

“It’s possible he killed the other mothers as soon as they gave birth,” Christopher muses. “Maybe he allowed yours to live longer because he thought about having another child with her.”

“There’s no way to know. Lucifer and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now,” I say dryly.

“And with his consuming her soul, there’s no way for you to ask her. She’s gone gone.”

"Yes, but maybe some of his other women he didn't take such drastic measures…" I shake my head. "Nah, I doubt that. He wouldn't leave a loose end hanging about like that. He probably consumed all of their souls. Maybe… Maybe I should be happy that this memory of my mother is the only one he stripped away from me. He didn't want me to know about my valkyrie blood, and he hadn't killed any of my siblings in front of me. Lani really did shield me, so I didn't see anything. They will have to tell me."

“Maybe you’re better off not knowing.”

I eye him and shake my head. “I have to know,” I say firmly. “If we’re all going to go up against him, we need to go in with our eyes wide open. Knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge can corrupt.”

“Sorry. I love pomegranates.”

He shakes his head. “You have knowledge of good and evil, yes, but…”

“Taking him down is good,” I say firmly.

“How you take him down matters.”

“We can’t kill him.”

“I know. It’s not his time yet, but your soul matters.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, Christopher. You really are a guardian angel through and through. You can’t save me. I’m a demoness.”

“You have—”

“My soul is dark.”

“Not as dark as you would think, and it could become far darker to the point that you can’t…”

“I will do whatever I have to do,” I say firmly, jumping to my feet. “You will not stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying to convince you to turn away from this course. I’m not a fan of wasting my breath.”

“It’s not wasting breath. I hear you. I understand where you’re coming from, but from my point of view, this has to happen. It must happen. And it will happen.”

“No loose ends,” he mumbles.

“None. While we’ve been talking, I’ve noticed patterns in the signatures of my siblings, my living siblings I should say, and I’ve been feeling out the souls of those in Hell… My other siblings, the deceased ones, the ones I knew never… The ones I never… How is it that I never knew them? I’m only fifteen years younger than Lance. There should’ve been siblings only a few years older than him. I should have known them. Lani and I, we spent time together when I was very young, but Lucifer kept me away from the others for the most part.”

The more I think about it, the more I realize my eyes are still in the process of being opened, and my memories, some of them at least, have been planted. They’re fake.

“What is it?” Christopher asks.

I grip his shoulder. “Thank you for helping me, for helping the hellhounds, but you need to return to Bethlehem now. Stay there. It isn’t safe for you outside the city.”

He appraises me, and it’s clearly evident that he’s displeased that I’m withholding information from him, but he finally nods.

“If you come here, if you need me, I will come,” he says.

“Thank you,” I murmur, hating that I’m wondering if he would come for Lily. Why would he? He hadn’t said a word to her. The succubus’ feelings are one-sided.

I hope. She is beautiful and her wiles… no man has ever been able to resist her for long.

“You aren’t who I thought you were when we first met,” he begrudgingly admits.

“Neither are you,” I say. “Not quite as pompous, but I really have to go.”

“Of course. After you get one last dig in.” But he’s laughing.

“It’s a backhanded compliment,” I protest as I kneel beside my sleeping hellhounds.

“Everyone knows a backhanded compliment is really a thinly veiled insult.”

My lips part, and I want to tell him a compliment, a true one, but I can’t. That feeling of vulnerability returns, and I can’t handle it, so I teleport to my room and secure my hellhounds, easing them onto my bed. They hardly stir. After placing some wards on the room so that none can enter without my knowledge, I leave.

My brothers and sisters are all outside in the courtyard between our mansions.

I halt in the middle of the misshapen circle they form.

“I don’t know what you all think you saw as far as our siblings,” I say slowly. “I’ve had my eyes opened.”

My gaze meets Lance’s. He nods.

“It took a bit,” he says.

“And we had to talk to one another to be sure,” Larissa adds.

Leo rubs his chin. “What we saw with the deaths were real.”

“But not in the way we thought at first,” Lucas continues.

Logan grits his teeth. “We saw siblings die, yes.”

“But it’s almost as if Lucifer wanted us to be punished for trying to get around him,” Lara adds.

“Having our minds opened unlocked memories,” Lena says.

“But not our memories,” Lola says. “The deaths we saw happened, but not while we saw them.”

“He fixed our minds so that when we unlocked them, we would have other people’s memories put in,” Lily says.

“His own memories,” Landon spits out.

Lani blows out a breath. “There was a gap. He killed our siblings, and he wanted to start over. He waited about five years after he killed his last living daughter to have Lance, and he began to have children every year or two in order to raise an army.”

“He’s raised an army, all right,” I say firmly, “but that army is going to come for him instead of work for him. He thinks we’re stupid, that we’re ignorant, that we won’t realize he’s been manipulating us from the very moment we were born. He killed our mothers, I’m sure. He sucked the soul of my mother right in front of me.”

Lola hangs her head. She prefers death to souls, She hates the body, but she loves the soul.

“Those sons and daughters of his, the ones none of any of us ever met… he sucked their souls, too, didn’t he?” I ask.

Lily nods. “He did.”

"But first, he tortured them in unspeakable ways," Lance mutters. "Do not ask for specifics. I will not share them."

"We must all be united," I say firmly. "All of us. Our siblings who died long before we were born rose up against him individually, and they all fell one by one. For us to have a chance, all of us must believe in our cause. Lucifer can't die, not by our hands, but he can be contained. He can be controlled. Clarissa did already. There's a portion on the earth that no demon can ever enter again. We can make it so that he will not hurt us, that we can dare to find love and have children if that is what we wish. We can have hopes and dreams that are not tethered to only this nightmarish place. We can live. We can lead, and we can love, but only if we are together.”

I exhale slowly and hold out my hand.

“Together,” Lance says, placing his hand on top.

Quickly, the others all do the same.

“Together!” we cry out as one.

I grin. No longer am I the daughter of Lucifer. After his using Darkest Smoke on my hellhounds, I can't be the daughter of smoke either. I'm not sure what I'll become next, but I do know that Lucifer will rue the day he crossed me. My hellhounds are untouchable, as are my friends and my family.

Lucifer? He’s no longer family.

He’s the enemy.

Trust me, things are going to get a lot darker for Lydia and her family in the next book, Daughter of Ashes!

A Girl and Her Hellhounds series is part of my A Mayhem of Magic World Story universe which starts with my Bedlam in Bethlehem series. It’s so much fun to keep expanding this world!

Please consider leaving a review if you enjoyed Daughter of Flames! I love to read my reviews. Thank you!

Until next book,

~Nicole

OTHER BOOKS BY NICOLE ZOLTACK

Bedlam in Bethlehem series

Cops plus Supernatural Creatures

Magical Hunters Academy trilogy

A school for paranormal teens to train to fight evil creatures

Blood Haven Academy trilogy

A paranormal retelling of Romeo and Juliet

Moonstone Academy trilogy

A half-werewolf, half demon and a cursed werewolf… What can go wrong?

Magical Prison

A fairy tries to free her twin from prison and save the world

Rebel, Supernatural Bounty Hunter trilogy

A human hunts supernaturals

HEX Unite trilogy

A grim reaper, a sandman, and their friends try to save the world

A Girl and Her Hellhounds

The youngest daughter of Lucifer is going to do things her way

Magic Incarnate Series

Magic + Faith + Teens

Once Upon a Darkened Night Series

Twisted Fairy Tales - the villains are now the heroes

The Queenmaker Series

YA Female King Arthur Retelling

Heroes of Falledge trilogy

A superhero struggles to find love and save his town

Age of Dragons Series

A tale of lost magic and dragon riders

The Winged Beast Chronicles

Dragons enslave humans.

In the Eye of the Dragon written as N. M. Zoltack

An epic fantasy saga

Magical Awakening written as Nicole Beyer

Friends attempt to save a friend from a magical sickness

Beyond Boundaries

Can love cross class boundaries?

Standalones

Dark Hunt

Vampires vs witches vs humans

Bloodlust

Epic fantasy with forbidden love

His Soul Purpose

A vampire tries to reclaim his soul

Moonstruck

Gender-bent Cinderella set in NOLA

The Test of Time

Unpredictable time travel

Love Before Honor

Medieval knight. Regency lady. Magical Christmas.

Joy to the World

One lady. Two dukes, one an imposter

Christmas Kisses

Two gentlemen, only one Lady Anna’s mother approves of

Starving for Love

The Little Mermaid with a zombie twist

Guns and Fangs

A vampire huntress turns into that which she hates

Not on Her Watch

A military romance

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write romances. Of course. She did marry her first kiss, after all!

When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious little girls. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are The Witcher and Stranger Things.

Sign up for her newsletter to learn when her next book is released as well as excerpts, cover reveals, and giveaways!

For more information

www.NicoleZoltack.com

Nicole.Zoltack@NicoleZoltack.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Normally, I always mention my husband first. I’ll get to him, don’t worry, but first, I have to thank some special readers.

I already mentioned in Grim Unrest that Alison Mackowski named the main raven in the series—Obsidian, nickname Sid, but now that more ravens have entered the world, well, they need names too, and the names were provided by more of my wonderful readers.

Wolfram was named by Zoe Sowray.

Loque was named by Cheree Sheffield.

Gehenom was named by Sheri.

Archimedes was named by Lindsay Roberts.

Alestar was named by Vanessa.

And finally, Sassmouth was named by Kim Marcum.

Thank you all so much!

Now, I have to thank my husband. I’m sure it can’t be easy being married to a writer, and I am so appreciative of all the support over the years. I love you, Todd! Thank you to my wonderful children for understanding that Mommy has work she has to do, but she still does and always will love you!

To some of the best writer friends a girl could ever have. You know who you are and I can’t wait until we can retreat again!

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my wonderful street team. You keep me going, and I’m writing for you and for all of my fans. Thank you for all you do for me!

And finally, I want to acknowledge my readers. You are why I write. As long as you keep reading, I’ll keep writing. So please keep reading, all right?

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hi, readers! I absolutely hate proofreading errors. My editor, proofreaders, and I try to find them all, but sometimes, a few will slip through. If you find any, please feel free to email at Nicole.Zoltack@gmail.com or message me on FB with the errors. I’ll correct the file as soon as I can get to it!

Oh, and if you’d like, feel free to tell me anything else you like—something about the stories, the characters, if there’s any story you would want me to tell?

Finally, if you would like to join my beta reader team or my ARC team, be sure to mention that too!

I’m off to write the next book!

~Nicole

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Other Books By Nicole Zoltack

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Author’s Note