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  Ecco grunted something like an affirmative. Wendy stared openmouthed as he pulled himself to his feet.

  Sera put her shoulder under Ecco’s arm. “I’ll help you out to the car. Nanette?” The smaller woman stood on Ecco’s other side. Sera looked back at Wendy. “I’m so sorry. I’ll call you.”

  Archer gestured them toward the door. “Ma’am, if I can ask you not to speak with anyone about this . . .”

  Wendy shook her head. “I’m not going to upset my residents.”

  “Exactly.” He blocked the door as Wendy started to follow them. “I can recommend a good cleaning service.”

  She blinked at him. “Oh. That would be good.”

  He eased her aside with the distraction of writing down the name of his cleaners. Sera led the small group out, Ecco limping along. He closed the door on the curious woman and followed them. Just beyond the fence line, he glimpsed two prowling figures, Raine and Valjean, keeping watch.

  He levered Ecco into the SUV. “Try not to stain the seats.”

  The “Fuck you” he got in return lacked strength but not sincerity.

  He glanced at Nanette. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep you a little longer. Then we’ll send you back to your faithful.”

  “Archer.” Sera’s voice was edged. “I asked for her help.”

  “That’ll teach her.” He went to the driver’s side. Out on the street, he saw Raine take over the idling car he’d abandoned. Valjean, his gaze fixed on some sign at his feet, melted into the darkness.

  Then their short and somber procession headed into the night.

  CHAPTER 18

  Niall met them at the front door of the central safe house. He took in the sight of them, then directed his gaze upward. “I’m not going to like this story, am I?”

  “It gets worse,” Archer said grimly.

  Sera tried not to cringe as she walked past Niall. She’d lost one of his fighters.

  They brought Ecco to a room too bland and clinical to be called a hospital room. Nanette looked around. “And I thought our church was ugly.”

  Niall pursed his lips. “I take it you aren’t host to a seraphim?”

  Sera gestured from one to the other. “Nanette, this is Liam Niall, leader of the Chicago league of teshuva. Liam, Nanette is a faith healer.” She took a breath. “I wanted her to help my father.”

  “Angelic possessed can’t aim their healing,” Niall said.

  “I told her,” Nanette said over Sera’s “I had to try.”

  Niall dragged a hand over his head. “Not that it matters. What happened?”

  Ecco, laid out on the bed, stirred. “I was escorting Sera and Nanette to the door of the nursing home, Zane behind me. They came out of nowhere. Seven, maybe nine ferales. They were huge, biggest I’ve ever fought, quick too.”

  Archer studied him. “You took a helluva beating.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. They attacked in concert and kicked my ass like my teshuva was getting its nails done. Three of them cut between my group and Zane, forcing us up the walk. The rest went after Zane.”

  Archer frowned. “Why Zane?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  “He was certainly the easiest to take,” Nanette offered. “Even I could see his demon was weakest.”

  “But to what purpose?” Niall paced the edges of the room. “Ferales devour on the spot. They don’t take leftovers, much less prisoners.”

  “Things are different now,” Ecco said grimly. “I told you.”

  Sera shivered. “My fault.”

  “How?” Archer demanded. “Because you didn’t get taken yourself?”

  She met Archer’s violet-tinged gaze. “You warned me. You said he wanted me.”

  “Not bad enough to make a feralis smart,” Ecco said. “They grabbed the wrong person.”

  “If they were sent for small and weak,” Nanette said, “they wouldn’t understand their master wanted female. They would only sense Sera’s strong demon and think, ‘Not that one.’ ”

  Sera’s blood congealed in her veins. “We have to find him. We should all be out there.”

  Niall shook his head. “No one gets between Valjean and the tracks. Once he’s on the scent, I’ll throw everything we have into finding Zane.”

  “I may not rank in the upper echelons of the celestial hierarchy,” Nanette said, “but perhaps the heavenly host can be of assistance.”

  “They never have before,” Ecco said.

  Nanette steepled her fingers. “Since there’s a djinni involved, playing some deeper game, they might be more open to alliance.”

  Niall sighed. “Ma’am, I think you’ll find your kind are hard-hearted when it comes to us.”

  “ ‘Love the sinner,’ ” Nanette said piously.

  “So I’ve heard,” Archer growled. “But we are the sin.”

  “We need to get Nanette home,” Sera said. “Will she be safe?”

  Niall lifted one empty hand. “You said the djinn-man wants you.”

  “Haji will take her,” Archer said. “He can watch her place overnight.”

  “I have my own protections.” Nanette took Sera’s hands. “Tell Wendy I’ll be back to visit your father. I can reassure her everything is fine.”

  Sera slanted a glance at Archer. “Just in case that impressive tangle of lies didn’t do it.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “It was for her own good.”

  So, the man who said fallen angels didn’t lie could make an exception for the good of others. Although she supposed he’d never claimed to be any kind of angel.

  Nanette sighed. “I can’t promise the power will rise in me for your father’s sake, but I can at least pray.”

  Ecco sputtered.

  Sera didn’t even glance at him. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I didn’t intend—” She held a flat palm out toward Ecco. “Nothing from you about paving the road with intentions.” She sighed. “Pray for Zane as well.”

  Nanette nodded.

  Ecco groaned. “All of you, get out. Give me an hour’s sleep and I’ll be back on my feet. Then I’ll be wanting me some ferales screaming.”

  After a hug between the women, Niall escorted Nanette out to find Haji.

  Archer lingered near Ecco.“An hour won’t be enough to get you sitting upright, much less off your knees. And you know your teshuva didn’t desert you, so you might want to spend this time contemplating why you weren’t on your game.”

  Ecco turned violet-tinged eyes on him. “I ain’t got no death wish, pretty boy, unless it’s dead ferales. Unlike some others I could mention. Even if I did, I would never sacrifice anyone else to reach my glory day.”

  Sera put her hand on Archer’s arm. “He did everything he could. There were just too many.”

  Archer shrugged her off. “Fine. We’ll see how many references Bookie can find to ferales’ pack behavior under djinn control.”

  “No.” Up her spine, the demon mark burned until she straightened. “No more research.”

  “Valjean is looking for a trail, and our contact at the Coil knows—”

  “We have to do something to find Zane.” She took a breath. “After all, we have the bait they want.”

  Archer glared at her, violet swirling brighter in his dark eyes. “What?”

  Ecco pursed his lips. “I get it. We set a trap, and she’s the bait. Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  Archer rounded on him. “Since when are you the strategist?”

  Ecco gave him the middle finger and rolled over.

  Archer dragged Sera out into the hall and slammed the door on Ecco’s room. “You think if you read a few histories, learn a few moves, you can turn the tide of battle?”

  She gritted her teeth. “You said I was different.”

  His tone edged toward a sneer. “And I’ve always been wrong.”

  “I have to find Zane.” She tried to keep her voice hard against the quiver that threatened. “I lost him.”

 
“He’s a fighter, not your baby boy.”

  “You’ve never lost one before, have you? They’ve been killed, yes. But lost?”

  “We’re all lost,” he said.

  She snarled. “Don’t get metaphysical on me.”

  “Fine,” he snapped back. “You want to be realistic now? Then stop trying to find a loophole out of madness and death.”

  She recoiled.

  He stepped into her space to loom over her. “You want us to save Zane. You want Nanette to save your father. You want to save the world. Hell, I think you even want to save me.”

  The scorn in his voice raised her hackles even as something else in her withered. “A few of those, at least, are worth saving. Which is more than I can say about giving up your life and soul for a slaver’s ill-fated cotton farm.”

  He went utterly still.

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Why was she fighting him? What was the point? “That was a hateful thing to say.”

  “You’ve been doing more research than I realized.” He took a step back. “Hateful but true. My father owned slaves. I would have if I’d managed to keep the farm, if the South had won the war. And you’re right; it was stupid to sacrifice my soul when the battle I was fighting was already lost. Which is why I won’t let you make yourself bait.”

  Wouldn’t let? She bristled, remorse morphing to anger. She echoed his words back at him. “Not your call. You’ve kept yourself an outsider in the league. If Niall, like Ecco, thinks it’s a good idea, I’ll do it.”

  He shook his head. “Always pushing. The universe probably crushed your spine just to make you sit down and shut up for a minute. No wonder the demon was able to tempt you so easily with the promise you could just keep pushing.”

  Her throat tightened. She clenched her fists as if she could shift the tension away from the threatening tears. “You’re asking me to just give up?”

  He shook his head. “Nobody has to ask. Sometimes you don’t have a choice.”

  She stood in the hall and watched him walk away.

  Towers these days didn’t have dungeons, which puzzled Corvus, since this world hadn’t lost the taste for dungeons. But the towers did have basements, and sub-basements, which served just as well. Enough levels down and, even within the thick concrete and rebar walls, the smells were the same—cold, damp, and inescapable decay.

  He brought his second set of tools down there: the torch with the slightly askew propane stream; the pliers and tongs that didn’t quite meet straight anymore; the dulled shears that didn’t cut so much as crush.

  He’d also brought the slivers of ruined glass.

  The splinters glittered in the harsh light—but not so bright as the corroded eyes skittering in what shadows they could find.

  He sighed as he contemplated the darklings’ trophy. Despite his less-than-gentle tutelage—and it wasn’t as if they didn’t eat the brains he gave them—they’d still managed to snatch the wrong talya. He should have risked getting closer. But the last time had been too close.

  He slapped the talya’s cheek lightly. The man jerked, head lolling. With another sigh, Corvus threw the remains of his glass of cognac in the man’s face.

  He sputtered, yanking against the birnenston-soaked bonds. Corvus waited while the talya’s gaze shuttled around the barren room, taking in the shifting kaleidoscope of lesser demons, the table of tools, and finally returned to Corvus himself.

  Corvus nodded at the sudden, fearful constriction of the talya’s pupils. “I am djinn.”

  “I am so not surprised.”

  Corvus smiled sourly at the impudence. “No need for your name, rank, and serial number. Your league brothers call you Zane. Your petty-mischief demon came from one of the shallowest circles of hell. And your number is up.”

  Zane shook his head, spraying cognac. “Your insults have broken me already.”

  “Oh, I don’t need words for that.” Corvus stretched his empty, bare hands. “Even your puny teshuva will heal your wounds again and again. The screaming will go on for a very long time.”

  “So what do you want to know? I’ll sing like a bird.”

  “Nothing really. I know everything I need.” Corvus surveyed the table of tools. “Except how to extract a demon.” He turned back with a pair of pliers in his hand. “I shall set you free.”

  “By killing me.”

  Corvus inclined his head. “An unfortunate corollary.”

  For a moment, Zane’s expression calmed. “To let it go . . .”

  Corvus pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, shielding his eyes from the harsh lights as he felt the tightening of the demon’s rising. “You have fought long enough. Not so long as I, but as a courtesy, I will not add your corpse to my army.”

  Zane pulled back as far as the bonds would let him. “Yeah, thanks for not much.”

  “Perhaps your soul, once free, will thank me.”

  “ ‘Charity begins at home.’ ”

  In Zane’s widening eyes, Corvus saw the reflection of his own yellow gaze, the acid tears that burned furrows down his cheeks. “I would, you know. If I could.”

  “Please don’t let me stop you.”

  “Oh, you won’t.” He brought the pliers up against Zane’s cheek. “Hell itself can’t stop me now.”

  Sera wished Niall’s safe house were bigger, if only to give her more room to pace. Bigger would have put more space between her and Archer too.

  He was always deep in conversation with another talya or on his phone. He never even glanced up. She knew this because she was staring angry holes in him. She could help if he’d stop being such a stubborn, patriarchal throwback.

  The scornful voice in her head told her she’d done entirely enough. She sunk to her haunches in the hallway. At the other end, she saw Archer on yet another phone call. If she hadn’t been off the reservation pursuing her own hopeless fantasies . . .

  “Whenever the djinn-man tried to snatch you again, he might’ve gotten someone else.”

  She glanced up at Niall. “You reading my mind?”

  He shook his head. “Just looking at your face.”

  “Nice to be transparent.”

  He followed the earlier path of her gaze down the hall toward Archer. “It’s only obvious if someone knows what they’re looking at.”

  She watched him with a slight frown.

  He shook his head. “Archer said he’s going to tie you to a bedpost to stop you from making a terrible mistake.”

  As if Archer, beds, and she hadn’t already been a terrible mistake. She dragged her mind back to the conversation at hand. “Did he explain why I think it would work?”

  “He didn’t have to. I told him I’d set you free to try it.”

  She pushed to her feet. “Then let’s—”

  Niall put a hand on her shoulder. “If I thought it would work.”

  “It will.”

  “Sera, this djinn bastard is already two steps ahead of us. If he got you, he’d be light-years ahead.”

  She frowned. “But light-years closer to what?”

  “We still don’t know. Bookie sent me a message saying that your research has him thinking. He wanted to meet with you, but then this—”

  A flurry of activity down the hall attracted their attention.

  Archer was shouting into the phone. “We’re on our way,” he said, urging the talyan around him toward the door.

  Niall and Sera ran to join the exodus.

  Despite her night-long avoidance, she found herself in the SUV Archer commanded, crammed in the backseat between Jonah and another talya.

  Archer met her gaze in the rearview mirror as he careened through the early-morning streets. “You’re coming because I didn’t have time to lock you in your room. Don’t get caught. Don’t get dead.”

  She scowled and said nothing.

  Wind-blown snow snaked across the pavement in hypnotic patterns before them and whipped into spume behind. She felt just as he
lplessly thrown into chaos.

  Archer’s voice in the phone was cold as he organized the attack with fighters in the other vehicles. “I told Valjean to try the sewers. He caught a scent down there, followed it up, and Haji has the schematics on the building. He’s downloading them to your GPS units now. Raine has the area under surveillance. No one’s been in or out, but we don’t know how many humans are inside or their relationships to the djinn-man.” His tone hardened. “Valjean says the place is crawling with demon sign, so innocence is unlikely. Still, if you encounter humans, try not to kill them until we have cause. And we want the djinni contained.”

  He disconnected. Sera tugged nervously at her necklace.

  Beside her, Jonah shifted. “Can we hold a djinni?”

  Arched didn’t look back. “We will.”

  The two talyan glanced at each other over her head. Uncertainty radiated off them like a chill.

  They closed on the gaunt, ugly structure in a rush of dark vehicles. The street in front was empty.

  “Too much available parking,” Jonah muttered. “Never a good sign.”

  Out of the cars sped a dozen talyan, silent and swift.

  Sera half thought Archer would lock the doors on her, maybe leave the windows cracked open if she was lucky. But he didn’t say a word as she ran with them.

  Later, she wondered if he’d guessed what they would find.

  Jonah in the lead smashed through the glass front doors without slowing. The rest followed.

  A wall of malice, black and frothing as a standing wave of oil-fouled water, met them.

  She flinched at a painful grasp on her arm.

  “Let us take care of it.” Archer took her hand and laid the haft of his smaller knife across her palm. “Don’t reveal yourself here.”

  She gripped the knife. “Don’t touch me, and the thing between us won’t happen.” He stiffened as if she’d raised the weapon against him.

  The other fighters weren’t waiting for them anyway. Instead, they ripped through like superheated scythes, steaming away malice in wide swathes.

  The talyan pressed forward. Sera heard a whoop of satisfaction at the easy progress. Before the malice had been entirely dispersed, a tide of ferales swept forward.