“It wasn’t necessary to tell you.”

  “Yeah, until it was. For fuck’s sake, Lucifer. I get that you think that I’m young and stupid, but I deserved to know.”

  “Why would I have told you when I had no intention of you fulfilling that destiny?” He shakes his head on a long blink, his brow furrowed in earnest. “I wanted things for you, Eden. I wanted you to live a long, full life. Find love, have a family, grow old. You think I planned this shit? You really believe I would gamble with human life so easily when I fucking fell from grace so that your kind could think for your fucking selves and not be slaves to blind faith?”

  My expression is stone when I reply, “Well…you are the Devil.”

  “Yes. I am. I absolutely am.” He flexes his fists in his lap, painting his knuckles white. “And since you intend on reminding me of that, maybe you should remember that me divulging any-fucking-thing is more than you or anyone else deserve.”

  I cross my arms in front of my chest, shielding myself from the sting of his words. He’s right. Why would I think he owes me anything—or he would give me anything—when he’s proven time and time again that he’s only out for his own selfish gain?

  “Would it kill you for one second to think of anyone other than yourself?” I ask, my voice sounding small to my own ears. “To just consider how someone else would feel? An hour ago, I learned that I am Death incarnate. My purpose on this earth is to destroy. And all this time, you let me chase my tail trying to save a world I was meant to kill.”

  “And if I would have told you, would it have been any easier? Would you have fought against it? Or would you have given up and let fate run its course? I chose not to tell you, Eden, because I didn’t want you to lose your will to live. I didn’t want to strip you of your choice to be something better, something more. I didn’t want to take that away from you like it was taken from me.”

  I shake my head and look away, biting back angry tears. It’s just so frustrating. Every time I think he’s changed, every time I believe he isn’t the deviant he’s depicted to be, he proves me wrong. And I hate myself for falling for his lies wrapped in a dashing smile and draped in a designer suit.

  Yet here I am, falling for that pretty, charming package once again. Because everything he’s saying right now—all the bullshit he’s spoon-feeding me—I’m lapping it up. It was so much easier when all I saw when I looked at him was a callous, sinister monster. And now that I know that there’s blood on my hands—blood that I’ll never be able to scrub clean—I can’t really tell the two of us apart. Because a week ago, if I were the only one who knew Legion would become a murderous animal and no matter how hard he fought, he would still succumb to that fate, I would just try like hell to hold on to him. I would spend every waking moment memorizing the feel of his stubble scratching the inside of my thighs and the depth of his dimples whenever he’d flash one of his rare smiles and the sound of his gruff groans when he’d push inside of me to the hilt. I’d trace every muscle and every chiseled curve with my tongue as if our story was embedded in his skin in the sweetest braille. And I would tell him how much I truly love him, how he was placed on this earth for me and I for him. And even if eternity tried to tear us apart, I would spend my years waiting for him to barge into my life, guns blazing, once again to steal me away from this world’s ills.

  There are no more words to say, no other way I can convince myself that Lucifer is lying, so I retreat to my room to prepare for the evening. I arm myself with every angelsbane-tipped blade in my possession along with as many guns and ammo I can conceal in my modified jacket. I haven’t worn it since that night in Grant Park, and I had hoped I never would. When I realize I’m missing a vital piece of my arsenal, I go back into the shared living space.

  “Where’s The Redeemer?”

  Lucifer is still seated, pouring over local area maps. He points over to where the velvet bundle sits on the table. I’m surprised; I expected him to keep it for himself, especially since it’s the only weapon known to man that could kill him.

  “You really shouldn’t have had that just stored in your backpack. Anyone could have found it.”

  “Well, I didn’t have any better ideas.”

  Without preamble, he stands and strides over to me. His expression is grim when he reaches over and picks up The Redeemer, weighing the burden of his Father’s disappointment in his palm. Then he takes the liberty of opening my jacket and securing the dagger in one of the inside pockets, his fingers brushing up my ribs. I shiver. He’s so close to me, and I have to hold my breath to avoid falling victim to his scent and the enchantment of his light touch.

  “You should keep it on you at all times. Just in case.”

  “Just in case of what? Do you think The Seraph would try something? You heard Michael. He’s giving us a chance.”

  “It’s not Michael I’m worried about.”

  “So you don’t think Legion purposely sent for the Horsemen? To stop him?”

  His lips twitch into a smile. “That theory wouldn’t be farfetched, especially for him. Legion brings a whole new meaning to martyrdom.”

  “But?”

  “But he wouldn’t purposely kill thousands of innocents. And he wouldn’t do it if he knew he could never get back to you.”

  I cast my gaze down to where Lucifer still grasps my jacket, his fingers fiddling with the zipper.

  “He asked me to kill him. He was so adamant, so desperate. Whatever The Many are doing to him is killing him, and he just wants it to be over. He’s lost his will to fight.”

  Lucifer nods and finally releases me, taking a step back. A grin graces his lips, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. It almost looks like it pains him.

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re fighting hard enough for the both of you.”

  We agree to meet the Skotos royals three blocks away from the mansion where I first met Aurora in the parking lot of a dilapidated building that was never restored after Katrina. The three royal Dark Ones are all dressed in black fighting clothes, much like my own. Lucifer is the oddball in his usual tailored suit as if he can’t be bothered with pedestrian attire. Honestly, I couldn’t picture him any other way.

  “So how do you want to play this?” Lucifer asks, giving point to Dorian. A show of respect and an olive branch.

  “The three of us,” he begins, motioning to Niko and Lucifer, “Will surround the house and take out any…obstacles. Once we’re inside, Gabriella and Eden will move in.”

  “I think it’s best they stay together,” Niko tacks on. “Gabs can hold her own in a fight, and will ensure Eden stays safe.”

  “I agree,” Lucifer approves. “They’d be more effective together. Stronger.”

  As annoyed as I am that they’re talking about us as if we’re not even here, I can’t argue, and apparently, neither can Gabriella. We know virtually nothing about what it means to be two out of four of the Horsemen. Plus, now that she’s pregnant and still keeping it under wraps, I’d rather stay as close as possible to watch her back. Even if I am the newbie of this group, I know enough to put a few dozen demons down. And what I don’t know, I’ll figure out. Like Cain said, I’m a quick study.

  “You ready for this?” Lucifer murmurs once we’ve gone over the game plan in full detail.

  “Definitely. Especially after what Aurora pulled last night. I’m next in line once Gabriella gets done with her.”

  “Yeah. I guess you are.” He busies his fingers with flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his jacket.

  “So, uh, we’re good, right?” I ask, which sounds insane even to my ears.

  He withheld vital information from me, not to mention we slept together only for him to turn around and try to demean me.

  I feel fucking foolish, honestly. But we’re about to walk into the unknown, and as confident as everyone seems to be, I know better than to underestimate our enemies. They’ve stayed two steps ahead of us, despite us exhausting every supernatural safeguard. So if Aurora is working with Sta
vros, thus working for Legion, we need to consider this a serious threat. And I don’t want to walk into that house with our last conversation gnawing at me like tiny mites of regret. I don’t want him to think that I don’t get it—that I don’t get him—because I do. He may say he doesn’t give a fuck, but I know that game. I’ve been playing it my entire life.

  His sinister smirk is so seamless that it feels rehearsed. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “Well, earlier…what you said. What I said. I get why you didn’t tell me, although I wish you would have.”

  He shrugs. “And if I did, would you have come here? Would you have agreed to stay with me?”

  Stay with me.

  The truth ripped me open, yet those three words lick the wound, laving my hurt and rawness clean.

  It was easier when I was convinced that I hated him. Even easier than that when I thought he hated me. And maybe he does. Maybe he’s better at this game than I thought, and I’ve been playing myself the entire time.

  I shake my head dispelling whatever absurdity is trying to root its way into my thoughts and bloom, and give him as much honesty as I can muster for the moment.

  “If it would have helped find Legion, yes. I would.”

  He nods and snorts a sardonic laugh, but he doesn’t reply. I’m grateful for the reprieve.

  The three males head to Aurora’s mansion first, dematerializing right in front of my eyes. I’d seen Niko dissolve into wisps of charcoal vapor, but I hadn’t paid attention to Lucifer’s ability to dissolve into a pocket of nothingness before. His power manifests differently than the Dark, and instead, he erupts into glowing embers that rain down and extinguish as soon they touch the chilly pavement. One second he’s there, and the next there’s only a light dusting of ash where he just stood. I’m reminded of Legion’s ability to fold himself into black feathers that disintegrate before they even touch the ground. Amazing.

  “It won’t be long,” Gabriella states. She lifts her chins and scents the air, as if she’s listening to the breeze and waiting for our signal. “The house seems abandoned.”

  “It was like that when I saw it too. There’s a spell cast over it.”

  “If there are any wards, Dorian will break them.” She turns to me, and I note a shade of sorrow in her peculiar eyes. “Just in case I don’t get the chance later on, I wanted to say goodbye. After Aurora is dealt with, my family and I are leaving.”

  “Back to Skiathos?”

  “No,” she shakes her head. “Away. Where I can’t hurt anyone else. When the threat is resolved, we may return. But for now…” She sucks in a breath. “I can’t do this to another mother. I can’t hurt another child. I won’t. So we’re leaving. Me, Dorian, and my children.”

  “You told him about the baby?”

  “Not yet. Later, after we get through this. Telling him now would only distract him. Plus, he’d try to bench me, and I’m not great at being told what to do.” She smiles, but there’s sadness pinching the corners of her mouth. “Nikolai is going to take over Dorian’s duties. And if Stavros somehow escapes, he and my father will ensure that he is put down for good.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope you do. I want to stay and help, but it’s too risky. I can’t live knowing that I could endanger so many innocent lives.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand, her touch warm and comforting. “I hope we meet again in this lifetime, Eden. And no matter the outcome, I want you to know that you are special, not for what you are, but who you are. You have a big heart. You shouldn’t be afraid to show it.”

  I try to smile despite the painful knot in my throat. “Thank you. I wish I could believe that.”

  “How could you not? Despite all you’ve been through, you still found the capacity to love. You still risk your life for the ones you care about when it is so much easier just to give up. And while every inner alarm may have warned you to flee, you took someone that is seemingly irredeemable, and you chose to see the beauty and goodness in him. The stuff that all others were too afraid to find. And you made him want to be better.”

  I nod, biting back rising emotion. “Legion is worth it. He did the same for me.”

  Her eyes narrow slyly. “I wasn’t talking about Legion.”

  I frown. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I see the way Lucifer looks at you. Hell, anyone within ten miles can feel the chemistry between you two. I’m not judging, trust me. A few years ago, a mysterious stranger barged into my life with the intent to kill me in exchange for his freedom. I knew he was dangerous—everything about him was a flashing, neon warning label. And I married him.” She shrugs. “We can’t help who we love. And oftentimes, it’s the ones who may not completely deserve love that need it the most. So, if you feel for him as I suspect he feels for you, don’t run away from it. Let him find his redemption in you. Your heart may heal him.”

  I’m stunned speechless. Luckily, Gabriella’s gaze flares and she turns around, as if she can sense something coming from the direction of the house.

  “Something’s wrong.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. The house is empty, the wards are broken, but they can still feel a presence.” She pauses a beat. “Shit. I’ve lost contact.”

  She pulls me closer to her side, her hand tightening in mine.

  “Hold on.”

  Just like in Hell when Niko kidnapped me in the bathroom and flashed me to my room, the process of disintegrating into nothing and rematerializing several yards away is disorienting. Bile roils in my gut and my head is spinning. But I only have a second to refocus my vision and regain my wits before Gabriella rushes up the darkened pathway, pulling me along with her. She pauses at the entranceway, and I take the opportunity to unsheathe a gun loaded with angelsbane bullets and The Redeemer.

  Gabriella spares me a glance, and I notice that her eyes—one golden, one ice blue—are glowing. Electric neon webs of magic erupt at her fingertips and crawl up her forearms. Her entire body vibrates with supernatural power unlike anything I’d ever felt before. She is the Dark Light, the first being derived of both Dark Ones and Light Enchanters. Her very presence fills me with awe and reverence.

  “Stay close,” she instructs. Then with a wave of her hand, the front door crumbles to rubble.

  We step through plumes of rising dust and debris and cross the threshold. The house is quiet and dark, but my keen Nephilim senses kick in, telling me that we aren’t alone. I fling out my mental power, molding it into a blanket of awareness that covers the space in front of us. It only reaches a few yards ahead, just enough for me gauge what we’re walking into. I don’t want to cast it too far into the darkness, in fear that I’ll find something that could manipulate my mental hold and render me useless, just as The Many did in my dream.

  Our steps are virtually soundless as we maneuver through a maze of furniture covered by white sheets. I touch a finger to what I assume is the table that was topped with dozens of glasses of champagne just last night. It’s caked in dust. This can’t be right. I tap Gabriella’s shoulder and point towards the hallway. My memory is fuzzy, but I know there are bedrooms back there. She follows my line of vision and steps closely behind, letting me lead the way.

  One by one, we quietly and carefully survey each room. Beds, dressers, vanities, all covered with sheets as if they haven’t been used in months, maybe years. Some pieces stand out to me, triggering a sense of déjà vu. I know these rooms, I know these furnishings. Each detail is like a fragment of a memory, a piece of the puzzle that is last night. I’d thought it’d been scrubbed from my brain completely, but it’s been here all along, buried under Orexis magic and my own guilt.

  We clear the first floor without any sign of the men. Shit. If it weren’t for my own memory, I’d think we were at the wrong house. I turn to Gabriella and find that her expression mirrors mine: confused, frustrated, and afraid. Something has happened to Niko, Dorian, and Lucifer.

  A note of pressure agai
nst my temples and then I hear her voice echoing in my skull.

  “What’s upstairs?”

  I push my influence towards her and twist the lock on her mind. She drops her mental shields and lets me in easily.

  “Five more bedrooms and four bathrooms. Follow me.”

  We creep to the base of the staircase and look up. It’s quiet and still, but the presence I feel grows stronger, calling out to both taunt and seduce me. Something is up there. I just can’t tell if it’s who we hope it is.

  “Anything?” I ask telepathically.

  Gabriella shakes her head. Shit.

  We head up as quietly as possible, our senses on overdrive, prepared to pick up even the slightest stir of life. Once we reach the top, I round the first corner, gun and dagger at the ready, with Gabriella at my back. The first room is much like the others—filled with abandoned furniture blanketed with dust. I’m not surprised when the rest are almost identical. However, when we stop at the last room, my hackles immediately raise. The presence is stronger. That sixth sense that someone is behind that door is so strong that I can damn near feel their pulse. Gabriella must feel it too because her eyes widen and she brushes past me to twist the knob before I can stop her. I try to cut her off as she rushes inside, but…

  I feel it as soon as I cross into the room. Magic. Not jarring like Niko’s or weighted with pressure like Gabriella’s. Something wholly dark and inherently evil. It snakes over my skin like an oily serpent, trying to find a way to slither inside. Its breath wafts over me, an airborne enchantment that stirs the hair at my nape. It’s an ugly, noxious virus that steals my breath and squeezes my lungs.

  “I’ve never been in this room,” I say out loud. The time for shielding our thoughts has passed. It would be no use.

  Gabriella feels it too. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this room was not in this house a day ago.”

  She spits a curse. “It’s a trap.”

  Simultaneously, we turn towards the door to leave, but it’s…gone. In the space it once was, there’s nothing but a wall. And right in the middle of it, is the symbol of the demon rebellion in Demoori Sheol.