I had asked Maven, that traitorous loup who brought us to Urla, what he thought his god wanted; what could possibly lull Osander back to sleep. I don't think he lied to me despite his traitorous intentions. There would be no point to it, and it had felt like the truth. Maven said he assumed his god wanted what all Loups did; a mate to share the moonlight with. A female with a gentle touch and sweet scent to calm the savage beast. A song had come instantly to my mind then. Perhaps it's a tad trite, but I couldn't resist singing Aeseaes' “Little Red Riding Hood” to a big bad wolf.

  It started soft and sweet—a stroking, tender tune—and my voice, when I joined it to the music, matched. Instead of forcing the magic into Osander, I offered it to him; hand outstretched in understanding. Catch my scent, Wolf, and sense my good intentions. Osander shuddered beneath the touch of my words; confusion warring with hope.

  And he let me in.

  I felt Osander's rage first and then his pain. Betrayed and alone. Paralyzed in a metal shell that drained his power constantly. Heat soaking through the silver to remind him that if he did manage to escape the sarcophagus, he would immediately fall prey to the weakening rays of the magical sun his ungrateful children had positioned above him. Even the water surrounding him posed a threat. One false, crippled step could land him in the pool, drowning him disgracefully. But Osander wouldn't die; he'd revive, over and over, to drown in a mere twenty feet of water, inches from freedom. Humiliation heaped upon torture. He wanted to savage his way through the Loup cities until his children were nothing but meat. Osander would have celebrated my treatment of the pack who attacked us if they hadn't been his only hope for freedom.

  I let that rage wash through me, justifying it before I offered Osander another option. I sang about a perfect mate; eyes to fill him with a different kind of savagery and lips to kiss away his pain. Everything he could possibly want in a woman. I shaped pictures with my words; painted images in his mind of a fierce, beautiful goddess who would treasure his wild wolf heart for eternity. All he needed to do was open his arms and accept her; accept my song.

  Osander took one last, shuddering breath before his body settled into sleep. I left my song in his heart to color his dreams and keep him company. I laid myself down beside him and held him to me in my mind; felt his heart slow into a steady but calm rhythm. Then I stroked Osander's silky cheek and left him with the illusion.

  The song seemed to sigh into its completion, as sad to leave the Wolf slumbering in enchantment as I was. But as soon as it ended, I felt better. I had opened myself to Osander in order to lure him into opening himself to me. It had worked brilliantly, and I knew it was the key; the trick to singing the Gods back to sleep. I had to see inside them and allow myself to be influenced by what I saw—to sympathize with them—before I could conquer them. To give mercy, you must feel merciful.

  But once it was done, I could withdraw both my mind and my sympathies. I could return to myself and my mission. I could remember why I was doing this.

  It wasn't until I turned away from Osander and faced my lovers that I realized I had done it alone. Their irritated expressions promised a lecture, but I held up a hand before they could start.

  “I'm not going to use your power if I don't need to.”

  “Elaria, you'll tire yourself faster,” Gage said reasonably. “With all of us fortifying you, even when you don't need it, we'll share the drain.”

  “We want to help you,” Torin added. “Let us help, little bird.”

  I sighed. “You're right. I'll use your energy next time.”

  A vibration pounded through the stone around us, and we all looked up.

  “Reinforcements for Osander or for us?” Slate asked.

  “What do you mean?” Banning asked.

  “That could be backup for the pack we killed or they could be sent by the Alpha,” Slate explained. “Perhaps he learned about the ruse and sent soldiers to help us.”

  “Do you want to risk taking a look?” Odin asked dryly.

  “Not at all; I was just wondering.” Slate smirked. “What I want to do is get the fuck out of here before I have to watch another bunch of werewolves eat each other. That was damn disgusting. Enough to give even a gargoyle nightmares.”

  “I second that,” Gage said. “Whoever doesn't have a traveling stone, grab onto someone who does and let's get back to Coven Cay.”

  We grabbed and ran. Odin could contact the Alpha of Urla later, from the safety of the Cay.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Who vetted that loup?” Odin demanded.

  We were ensconced in Odin's sitting room again; our entire group as well as the Witch Leaders. A table had been set up and loaded with food and drinks. We were all stuffing our faces, refueling, but Odin wanted to get business out of the way before he filled his belly.

  Odin had given our report to the other witch leaders—calmly and professionally—and then asked his question with the same tranquil tone. Except this calm had an undercurrent of rage to it. Vivian, Glinda, and Osamu looked at each other in shock. It took me a few minutes to catch up.

  “You think we were betrayed by a witch?” I asked in surprise.

  “I'm not saying it was betrayal,” Odin corrected. “I'm saying it was shitty work. We should have our best people on this, and our best people would have verified that loup's story about representing his Alpha. Somehow, I doubt the High Alpha of the United Loup Packs was in on the plot to murder a collection of beneathers whose deaths could cause serious problems for him; the least of which would be the rising of a god bent on his destruction.”

  “I agree that the Alpha is likely innocent,” Osamu said. “But we can't assume that. I will contact him myself immediately following our meeting.”

  “As far as who confirmed the story, I'll have to check,” Glinda added. “It's been crazy here; you know that, Odin. We've been trying to research, receive reports, and give your team the support it needs. It's a lot.”

  “We have a lot of people, Glinda,” Odin growled. “Don't give me that 'it's a lot' bullshit. That mistake nearly got us killed. I could have been dead because someone didn't take five minutes to verify a story.”

  “They probably didn't think to be wary of betrayal from people asking for help,” Vivian said gently. “It was just a mistake, Odin.”

  “Check on it,” Odin insisted. “I won't make the mistake of assuming all of our people are loyal either.”

  “Odin!” Vivian gasped.

  “He's right,” Osamu said firmly. “We have Gods breaking free of their prisons; we can't trust anyone.” He looked around. “Not even the people in this room. We must verify everything from here forward; the promise of power from a god is a temptation that anyone can fall prey to. Let's not be fools and act as if Witches are immune to such enticements.”

  “I'd put Eva at the top of that list if I were you,” I said softly.

  Odin's eyes widened and then flew to Osamu.

  “Fuck,” Osamu muttered. “Very well; I'll look into her first.”

  A knock jolted all of us upright in our seats. Odin kept his momentum going and went to answer the door. From my position in the room, I could see the side of Odin's face; his expression lifted in shock before he stepped back to allow our visitor entry.

  “What are you doing here?” Odin asked.

  “We've got a problem,” Raphael's wings shivered and disappeared as he moved through the doorway.

  When I'd been in a relationship with Raphael, he'd kept his wings hidden and his angelic form under a glamour. He told me he was a loup. But now, I knew the truth and at Coven Cay, Raph didn't have to hide. So, although he put his wings away, his full angel glory stayed on display; perfectly smooth skin, sapphire eyes so translucent they nearly glowed, buff beautiful body, and gleaming black hair. If the room hadn't already been full of gorgeous men, I would have started drooling.

  “Raph?” I leaned forward in my chair as my men tensed around me. “What's happened?”

  “Demons have been migrating to Heaven,” Raphael said as he came straight to me.

  “Demons are moving in on Angel turf?” Cerberus laughed. “Good for them; they've had to live in the shitty part of your world for long enough.”

  “They live in the shitty part of the world because it suits them. They like it there, and also, they were contracted to guard Lucifer,” Raphael said.

  We all went still.

  “I think you need to sit down.” Odin waved his hand toward a chair. “And then explain in great detail.”

  “Look, we're not supposed to talk about this, but in light of the situation, the Seraphim have given me permission to divulge our secrets with discretion. I need your assurances that you'll share this information only with those who need to know it.”

  “Very well.” Odin looked at the rest of us, and we all nodded. “Now, what do you mean; Demons were contracted to guard Lucifer? I thought Lucifer was a myth.”

  “All Gods are myths,” Raphael dropped that bomb and then waited for it to detonate.

  Questions shot back at Raph in rapid succession. He grimaced until the room went quiet again. That's when I finally spoke up and asked him what we all wanted to know.

  “Are you saying that Lucifer—the Devil—is your god?”

  “The Morning Star was our god,” Raphael corrected. “And he was a kind, just god.”

  “Let me guess”—Cerberus sneered—“he was kind and just until he just wasn't.”

  “Our historical records say that Lucifer grew jealous of the way other races adored us,” Raphael confessed. “We paid him less and less attention, and he grew jaded and resentful. He started manipulating the other races to show us their shortcomings. We believe he started with good intentions, but when we didn't respond, he kept upping his game.”

  “And that's how the Devil was born,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” Raphael admitted. “It was our fault. The Host ignored our god and allowed him to run rampant over Earth. Humans suffered the most since they were the easiest to target. Soon, Lucifer became obsessed with them; with getting them to hurt each other and us. We had to stop him.”

  “So, you put him in Hell,” Cerberus surmised.

  “I thought Heaven and Hell were separate realms?” Kevin, a member of our witch retinue, asked. “As in the magical realms created in pockets of existence within the Veil; not the natural galaxies.”

  “Some heavens and hells are magical realms,” Raphael confirmed, “but not ours. Heaven is a continent on Angelus, the Host's home planet in the Eden Realm. Hell is on the opposite side of the planet. Due to the nature of our planet's rotation, the continent of Hell receives more intense solar rays than the rest of the planet. Its' natives are Demons, who Lucifer created to comfortably inhabit Hell. They were the second race born and deemed lesser in the eyes of the Host. Lucifer made us in his image, and so we were the most adored.”

  “Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “You know, as an ex-goddess, I can tell you that I loved all my children equally. The Shining Ones gave themselves that name and called the other faeries lesser to show their dominance. It wasn't my doing.”

  “Yes; that's fucking great, Elaria,” Raphael snapped. “Kudos to you for being an equal-opportunity goddess, but you can't say that Lucifer felt the same.”

  “Watch your tone, Angel,” Slate said quietly, his eyes flashing.

  “Sorry, El.” Raph sighed as he closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips against them. “I just got back from Hell; it's been a rough day.”

  “And we just survived a pack of over two hundred loups intent on killing us and sacrificing Darc and El to their god,” Cer said in a calm, conversational tone. “Then El put that god to sleep by singing to him about Little Red Riding Hood. We've had a hellish day too, buddy. I mean, watching Loups go cannibal was bad enough but having to listen to that stupid song was nearly too much for my delicate sensibilities.”

  “Hey,” I growled. “That's an amusing and sexy song. And you don't have a delicate anything.”

  “Dogs are known to be sensitive to certain pitches,” Gage mused.

  “At least I didn't sing 'Genie in a Bottle,'” I pointed out.

  “Do you see what I have to put up with?” Cerberus asked Raph dryly.

  Raphael's eyes opened and widened. “You win; you've had a worse day than I.”

  “Okay; Lucifer liked the Angels best,” I steered Raphael back on subject. “Then what?”

  “The short story is; we tossed him in a lake of fire,” Raphael said.

  “A lake of fire,” I muttered. “That sounds familiar.”

  And warm. There was the fire element again. At least Osander didn't have anything to do with it.

  “You know how it goes; the myths have some truth to them.” Raphael shrugged. “Lucifer is weakened by extreme heat.”

  “The Morning Star is weakened by heat?” I asked in surprise. “Aren't stars made of fire? They're basically suns without solar systems.”

  “He's not an actual star, Ellie.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “The Host gave him that name because he's a god of light. He shines with luminescence like a star and brought hope to his people.”

  “And then his people...” I prompted.

  “We chained him up, locked him in an enchanted box, sank it in the fire lake, and then offered the Demons our support in exchange for guarding him.”

  “The Host pays the Demons to watch Lucifer, their god, so he doesn't rise from his prison in the lake of fire,” I said it slowly so it would sink in.

  “That's right,” Raphael confirmed. “Except lately, the lake has been crusting over.”

  “Crusting over?” Odin asked.

  “Something is cooling the magma,” Raphael explained. “Lucifer's light is cold. The Demons think he's rising and, as far as they're concerned, reporting his resurrection ends their contract with the Host. They're moving to Heaven, despite the difficulties our cooler environment poses for them. They'd rather freeze their asses off in Heaven than get their asses kicked in Hell.”

  “Can't say that I blame them,” I muttered.

  “Is there anything else happening?” Glinda asked.

  “Beyond the exodus of Demons and the possibility of Hell freezing over?” Raphael asked dryly. “No; not that I know of.”

  “Then Lucifer will have to wait,” Vivian said gently. “I'm sorry, Raphael, but there are planets experiencing more worrisome signs.”

  “Such as?” Raphael asked in shock.

  “Such as the tidal wave that took out a major city on Leine,” Glinda said crisply.

  “Leine?” I asked warily. The name sounded familiar.

  “In the Rorcha Realm.” Glinda wouldn't meet my eyes.

  “Who lives on Leine?” I asked slowly.

  Glinda grimaced, sighed, and looked straight at me. “The Manticores.”

  “Raphael, you have yourself a spellsinger,” I said immediately.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Elaria, this isn't simply about the Manticores,” Odin chided me.

  “Our reports show that the Manticore god, Ortar, was one of the most violent, evil gods to have ever existed,” Osamu said.

  “Big surprise there,” Cerberus snorted. “All you have to do is look at the creatures he made to know that.”

  “No shit,” I agreed. “A kind, gentle god did not create those monsters.”

  “Now, think about that god running rampant through the realms,” Glinda said grimly.

  “Aw fuck,” I whined. “I really have to help the Manticores? You know they tried to kill me, right?”

  I'm not racist. Nor am I the type to take my anger for a few people out on their entire race. I learned my lesson after the Battle of Primeval. But Manticores are just plain evil. They were born that way; vicious beasts with lion bodies the color of congealed blood, massive scorpion tails armed with venomous spikes, human heads full of rows of shark teeth eager to tear apart their victims, and voices that can blast out eardrums. Their preferred food is people; human or beneather, as long as they walked on two legs and talked, the Manticores thought they were delicious. I'd had a couple of run-ins with them that shaded my opinion even darker. The last thing I wanted to do was help them.

  But having their god free sounded like the greater evil.

  “A free Lucifer is just as terrifying,” Raphael pointed out. “More so. Ortar may lash out, but Lucifer will enact revenge. I have no doubt that he's rattling his chains in his hot box as we speak, planning every move he'll make as soon as he's free. He's devious; a ruthless mastermind. He'll have you eating out of one hand while he stabs you in the back with his other.”