“Tell me you hate me.” Her eyes wavered with sadness. “Tell me to go, and that you never want to see me again.” She choked those last words on a sob.

  He couldn’t.

  God help him, Asmodeus couldn’t send her away from him. She was the only shred of goodness he had left in his miserable existence. Her sweet, sugary scent filled his nostrils, and a hunger that could never be sated burned in his loins.

  “Give up on me, Neriel,” he forced the words out. “I’m not worth the trouble.”

  She could lose everything she had because of him.

  “You’re worth something to me.”

  Her words tore through the blackness in his soul. Made his heart beat with a longing for something more. To be something more. If his plan worked, she would understand why he’d done the things he had.

  But until he was free, she couldn’t be near him.

  Eventually Lucifer would find out just how much she meant to him, and he would take her from him as brutally as he’d taken what was left of his soul.

  He would die if anything ever happened to her.

  “Leave me alone, angel.”

  Asmodeus did the right thing.

  He faded out.

  Chapter 35

  Jillian had never been happier to see Kyriel’s flashy red Corvette. They ran through the parking garage and over to his car, a gang of airport officials gaining on them fast.

  She had her seatbelt buckled before he even started the engine. As he sped toward the exit, Jillian saw two sleek, black sports cars fall in behind them.

  “We’re being followed!” she squealed in a panic.

  Were they about to get in a real life car chase?

  Dear Sweet Jesus.

  Jillian couldn’t do it. She couldn’t die like that. Not like the rest of her family. It was her greatest fear.

  The crash.

  The smoke.

  The fire.

  Inside, the car got smaller and smaller, crowding her, closing in. She couldn’t breathe. She was trapped.

  She had to get out of the car.

  ***

  Kyriel tried a few stealthy moves to lose the two cars tailing them from the airport, but he couldn’t shake them.

  Which suggested the drivers were skilled.

  His only chance was to outrun them on the Expressway. They might have come prepared to race him in two Porsches, but they had their work cut out for them. Kyriel was an expert behind the wheel at high speeds.

  It was the closest he could come to flying.

  He’d driven many cars since their fairly recent introduction: BMW, Mercedes, Bentley, Ferrari. In the end he’d settled on the Corvette. Sleek, simple and fast, it fit his needs.

  “What are you doing?” Jillian had a white-knuckle grip on the seat as he accelerated onto the Expressway.

  “Trying to lose them.” He punched the gas as he alternated lanes.

  “Oh God!” Jillian held her eyes closed. “I hate it when you drive so fast.”

  “What would you rather I do?” he asked, irritated, wishing he could just flash the both of them out of danger. “Slow down and let them catch us?”

  One of the cars was gaining quickly, coming up fast in his rear-view mirror.

  Kyriel would have to try to run them aground. He veered across several lanes and cut onto the smaller interstate where there was less traffic, then accelerated, forcing the other car to race to catch up.

  Once the nose of the car inched up along his door, he jerked the wheel hard to the left, sending the car careening off the road and crashing into a ditch. Kyriel fought to right the steering wheel and the rear tires skidded, but he kept his Corvette pushing forward.

  Jillian screamed and slapped at his arm. “You’re going to crash!”

  “I’ve never crashed,” he declared. “Not once in all the time I’ve been driving.”

  He was immensely proud of his no-crash record.

  “How long is that?” Her voice was hysterical. “Since yesterday?”

  He glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the second car weaving through the lanes to catch him.

  “A little longer than that.” He’d driven the first Benz built at the end of the nineteenth century. Automobiles had come a long way since then.

  He shifted through the gears and held the gas pedal to the floor. “Hold on.”

  The second car came up on Jillian’s side this time. Her eyes went wide when she watched the nose inch past her door and came face to face with the driver. He held a gun in one hand, but decided to veer into them rather than shoot at them, sending the Corvette fish-tailing. Kyriel struggled to keep the car on the road.

  Damn.

  That was too close.

  He tried to overtake the car and pass, but the Porsche held its own against his six-hundred-twenty-five horsepower engine.

  He and the other car played touch-and-go with each other for a mile or so, until Kyriel saw his opening at the bridge coming up.

  He launched the Corvette sideways into the Porsche as they came to the bridge, sending the other car careening over the edge and into the river.

  The force of the impact sent his Corvette all over the road and into a flat spin, crashing them into one side of the bridge, then across to the other, before they were spit back out on the interstate.

  Jillian screamed and grabbed onto his arm as he fought with the wheel, but he couldn’t right it fully and they skidded sideways, with Jillian’s side of the car headed straight for a grove of trees with thick, solid trunks.

  There was no stopping the car from hitting the trees, so Kyriel cranked the wheel and spun the car around to let his side take the full force of the crash.

  On impact, biting metal crushed into his arm and ribs and back. It hurt like hell, but losing Jillian would hurt a whole lot more.

  A burst of flames sprouted from the hood and clouds of smoke billowed up into the sky, also filling the inside of the car.

  Kyriel checked Jillian. She was unconscious, her head slumped forward, with a small trickle of blood running down her forehead. She must have struck her head on the dash. It was a miracle if that was her only injury. Her constant obsession with seatbelts had ended up saving her life. Kyriel knew he had to move fast to get her out of the car before it exploded.

  ***

  Jillian awoke a few moments after the crash. All she remembered was hitting her head, and when she came to, she heard Kyriel forcing his door open to get out of the car.

  She surveyed her situation and immediately saw the giant orange flames dancing up from the hood of the car. Billowing clouds of black smoke rose into the sky and came pouring in through the vents to fill the inside of the car. She took a breath and started to choke.

  No!

  She didn’t want to die like this.

  A fiery wreck.

  “Kyriel!” she called for him, but he’d left her alone in the car to die.

  Panic hit her hard, sending her into a frenzied hysteria. She tried to unfasten her seat belt, but it was jammed.

  Unbelievable!

  Things like that only happened in the movies. When she tried the door handle, desperate to open the door and get some fresh air into her lungs, it was stuck. Jillian was trapped inside a burning car, and the angel had left her behind.

  How could Kyriel leave her like this?

  Didn’t he care anything for her?

  Tears burned her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, and she told herself they were from the smoke, not her breaking heart. The angel only cared about the ring. She’d been a fool to dream of a future together.

  As she choked on more smoke, she lifted her arm to try using her elbow to break the window, when the door was suddenly wrenched away from its hinges with the sound of twisting metal.

  An angel appeared in the smoke.

  Kyriel towered above her, looking every bit the Heavenly creature he was. She almost thought she could see the image of his great wings extended behind him.

  “You have to get out!” he shouted in a deep, booming voice.

  Jillian furiously tugged at the seat belt. “It’s stuck!”

  Kyriel worked to unfasten her seat belt, and when it wouldn’t give, he ripped the entire mechanism from the frame and scooped her up into his strong arms.

  He swiftly carried her away from the car wreck, moving so fast it felt like they were flying.

  A deafening explosion happened about five seconds later, and they were blown to the ground in the aftermath, tumbling over each other.

  Kyriel was the first to get up, and as he helped a weary Jillian to her feet, an unmarked police car skidded to a halt in front of them.

  Detective O’Malley and Asmodeus got out.

  She should have known.

  Kyriel reached for her, but Asmodeus blasted him with his powers, dropping him to his knees.

  “No!” Jillian screamed. “Don’t kill him!”

  Asmodeus extended his hand. “Come with me, and I’ll let him live.”

  “Don’t do it,” Kyriel said, trying to stand but unable to get off his knees.

  “Did you do the deed?” Asmodeus asked him.

  Jillian wasn’t sure what they were referring to. She only knew it had something to do with her.

  Kyriel sighed, and hung his head. “A few times.”

  “Did what a few times?” she wanted to know.

  She looked at Kyriel, hanging his head in shame. It couldn’t be what she thought. She didn’t want to believe he could be that heartless.

  “I had to be sure you were properly inseminated,” Asmodeus informed her, a pleased smile on his face. “Otherwise, my plan won’t work.”

  “Properly inseminated?” She narrowed her eyes at Kyriel.

  He refused to meet her irate stare.

  “What is he talking about?” Jillian shook with rage, and hurt.

  She’d trusted Kyriel. She’d believed he cared about her.

  He raised his head to look at her. “I had to do it. It was the only way to protect you.”

  “You were trying to get me pregnant?” she yelled.

  She thought back to all the times they’d made love. His insatiable lust hadn’t been for her, it had only been a ploy to ensure he got her pregnant. It was the worst kind of betrayal, and Jillian felt her heart breaking all over.

  Kyriel didn’t love her. He’d used her, lied to her.

  All for the ring.

  Jillian accepted the hand Asmodeus was offering. She’d find a way out of whatever horror awaited her with Jonathon. She couldn’t stay with Kyriel. Not knowing how badly he’d betrayed her.

  “Jillian,” Kyriel rasped her name, his brows drawn together in an agonized expression. “I did it because I love you.”

  “How can I ever believe a word you say?” She bit back her pained tears. “You used me.”

  “The ring.” Asmodeus held out his free hand.

  Kyriel had the strength to rise to his feet and face Asmodeus. “You’ll have to kill me.”

  “Gladly.” Asmodeus handed Jillian off to Detective O’Malley. “Take her to the car.”

  O’Malley walked Jillian to his tan, unmarked cruiser and opened the door to the back seat. She didn’t want to, but she looked back at Kyriel.

  She thought she saw an apology in his steely blue eyes, and she paused. Then Asmodeus blasted him with light.

  Again.

  And Again.

  “Kyriel!” she cried his name.

  She couldn’t help the reaction. It came from a place deep inside her that didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to be in love with him anymore.

  O’Malley tried to force her down into the backseat of his car, but she held on to the roof with both hands and watched in horror as Asmodeus went to work on Kyriel.

  ***

  Excruciating pain consumed every fiber of his being. Kyriel didn’t know why he wasn’t dead.

  He wanted to be.

  After seeing the anguished look in Jillian’s eyes, and the sad frown on her lush mouth, he didn’t want to live.

  Why hadn’t Asmodeus killed him yet?

  He had the power to do it. Most fallen angels didn’t have their full powers, so Asmodeus could be a real thorn in their side.

  He was fast, too.

  Always getting the drop on Kyriel. A fallen angel who actually had the strength to rival his powers.

  He wondered if all the sex had drained some of his powers. Or if he had just lost the will to live if he couldn’t have Jillian.

  But if he wanted her, he had to live. He had to explain what happened. Tell her the truth, and beg her to stay.

  After all, he was going to be the father of her child.

  Part of the Warrior Code echoed through his head.

  Live today, fight tomorrow.

  He reached into his pocket and tossed the ruby ring at Asmodeus’s feet.

  The dark angel bent down and snatched it up. “This time, I take both your treasures.”

  His pitch black eyes held no emotion, and he turned, and went back to the car where Jillian waited. He forced her into the backseat and climbed in behind her, while the detective got behind the wheel.

  As the car looped around, something came out of the window and landed on the ground a few feet in front of him.

  Kyriel leaned forward on his elbow and picked it up.

  A refrigerator magnet?

  The Cloud Club.

  1930.

  The Chrysler Building?

  He looked up. Asmodeus watched him out the back window as they drove away.

  Whose side was he on?

  Chapter 36

  The long car ride back to the city in heavy traffic was not pleasant.

  Jillian wanted to get out of the car, not be trapped in it, and it was complete torture to see people outside walking faster than they were driving and not be able to get out and run away.

  Asmodeus would kill her if she tried.

  She’d already tried, and hadn’t made it out of the car before he jerked her back inside and told her she didn’t want to try escaping again. He was faster, and he would catch her.

  She sat as far from him as she could.

  Their destination was the Chrysler building.

  O’Malley pulled around back, and a hidden door built into the base of the skyscraper opened up to an underground parking structure. Jillian immediately recognized Jonathon’s Mercedes parked in front of an elevator.

  A mixture of anger and fear knotted her gut.

  What did he have planned? Would she be present for the end of the world?

  Asmodeus touched the back of O’Malley’s head, and the detective crumpled to a limp heap in the front seat.

  Next, he reached into his jacket pocket as he slid across the back seat, closing in on her. He put the steel band of his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She fought and struggled as he covered her face with a rough cloth that reeked of fumes, and then darkness.

  ***

  All was as it should be.

  Jonathon gazed out the triangular window of the observatory. As the sun set on the Equinox, he could see all the planets in perfect alignment.

  The rings of the Magi were united.

  Jillian was prepared for the ritual.

  It was time to begin his reign.

  “How do we open the rings?” He turned from the window.

  Asmodeus sat perched aloft on one of the steel cross beams coming down from the vaulted ceiling.

  “That’s your job,” he replied, ever thwarting his plans.

  “Do you want to see him released, or not?”

  “You can bet I want to see him released. We only have to combine the rings long enough for their power to work. Lucifer will come when he’s ready.”

  Jonathon worked out the kinks in his neck. He hated having to rely on Lucifer’s lackey for all the details.

  It was time for him to prepare.

  He went to the altar where Jillian was tied down, wearing the black silk negligee he’d picked out especially for her.

  He was going to rip it from her body as he took her under the light of the moon coming in through the observatory windows.

  He’d waited so long for this, and he wanted everything to be perfect.

  He took off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Pulled off his belt so he’d have less to deal with when it was time to enter her and spill his seed inside her womb.

  His excitement built.

  Lucifer could have chosen anyone to help bring him into the world, but he’d chosen Jonathon.

  And Jonathon had chosen Jillian.

  She was so beautiful, so tender, and the terror in her eyes as she watched him undress was exhilarating. Soon, he would have her beneath him, legs spread and welcoming as he filled her with his need.

  She was a lucky woman. Jonathon was very selective about his females.

  Above her head on the altar, the three rings sat joined. The emerald, the ruby, and the sapphire.

  He circled the altar, breathing in Jillian’s sweet scent as he lit the black candles he’d arranged to light their union. His erection was obvious, standing up against the front of his pants. And it was right at her level, so he knew she was aware of his arousal.

  He wanted her anticipation to grow. For her to know what he was going to do to her, and then have the experience of him doing it.

  ***

  “Jonathon, please, let me go,” Jillian begged, for all the good it would do her.

  He’d turned a deaf ear to her pleas, concentrating only on his sick ritual.

  Laid out on some kind of altar, Jillian had an idea of what was going to happen.

  And she had no idea how she was going to manage an escape. Not with her hands tied securely above her head.

  She wondered where Kyriel was, what he was doing.

  Was he thinking of her?

  Did he miss her at all?

  She’d run the total range of her emotions in one day, from joy, to fear, excitement, hope and, finally, sorrow and despair. Having feelings was exhausting, but she wouldn’t change it.

  She’d never felt more alive, and if she was going to die, she wanted to feel that, too.

  Jonathon sat beside her on the altar, resting one of his hands on top of her head.

  Jillian tried to pull away from his touch, but her movement was limited by her restraints. She couldn’t bear the feel of his touch. It made her sick.