“Nula—”

  She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want him near her. Sera swung her whip through the air, and Vasso blasted his power out to keep it from striking. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to kill him for lying to her.

  Snik charged at the demon lord, growling and ripping at Vasso’s leg. He snapped his fingers, and the goblin froze in midair, as if he were stone.

  “You asshole!” Unsheathing her daggers, she charged. She was rage, undiluted rage, every ounce of her body hummed with it, and the carved floral inlays of the daggers sat true in her hands.

  Vasso leaned out of the way, spinning to face her. “Looks like I should have been teaching you more than magic.”

  Sera screamed and went after him. He didn’t understand what his betrayal had done to her.

  Vasso ducked away from her swings, deflected her jabs, and stopped her at every move. Her side was screaming at her to stop; the stretch of her ribs with every inhale was searing.

  “You’ve hurt yourself.”

  “Why would you care?” Her inky mist fell from her, its tendrils reaching, ready to snatch at him with her command. What she couldn’t figure out was why he wasn’t deflecting her.

  “If you’re done trying to play assassin, I’d like to talk.”

  Twisting in a circle, she rotated her dagger before he could move out of the way and made contact with his forearm as he blocked.

  He hissed. “That hurt.”

  “Good,” she snarled. She wanted him to bleed. She wanted him to feel every ounce of agony he had caused her after hearing what he’d said on the dunes. Her rage fueled her, hot and deep. Sera swung again, but Vasso gripped her forearm. A sharp pain bit through her wrist as he bent it back.

  “Ahhh,” she cried. Then he spun her. His arms were unyielding, no matter how hard she tried to break free of him. His chest rose and fell in rapid breaths as he ripped the other dagger from her hand. Her ribs screamed in pain.

  “Enough.” His tone was dangerous, low, and guttural.

  “No.” She slammed her head back, hoping to make a connection with his nose, but he tilted out of the way. He was too damned fast, and she was no fighter. Especially since she could barely breathe.

  “What did I do?” The anguish in his voice gave her pause. He had to have known she’d heard him, heard his lie for what it was. He had to have felt her pain when she heard what that demon said. How do you think she’s going to take it when she finds out you’re the reason her sister is captive?

  “I heard you,” she spat. “You could have gotten her out of here! Brought her to me!”

  He let her go, and she twisted to face him. His eyes were bloodred as they bore into her. “I ordered her to be released! As soon as I heard. I swear it.”

  “Well, maybe you should have come in person,” she spat and picked up her daggers. It was no use. She’d never win against him. They both knew it. “What were you supposed to tell me?”

  His eyes snapped to hers. “What?”

  “I heard you. By the dunes, whoever you were with asked if you would tell me something. What is it? That you were too much of a coward to help me? That you would rather watch me suffer than help?”

  It shouldn’t matter to her. Not really, but she wanted to know. She was desperate for hope that maybe, just maybe, something was preventing him from doing the right thing. That there was redemption.

  “Us. I was going to tell you about us.” His body was rigid.

  “There is no us,” she gritted.

  There was the slightest twitch to his brow.

  “You betrayed me. There could never be an us.” The moment she said it, she wished she hadn’t. She wished she’d gobbled the words back without him hearing. That she could turn back time.

  “Oh, that’s rich. You know it’s not going to be that easy, not anymore. Not when I’ve tasted you. Not when I’ve listened to those beautiful breathy pleas, or the way you scream my name.”

  Her body acted in treason as heat pooled between her thighs. “I can still kill you,” she sneered.

  “Not with those moves you can’t.”

  “Maybe I’m choosing demise, then.” She understood why her hatred could burn so hot for him. She could end him if she wanted to, was fated to do so, according to his words and Ophelia’s. “Put Snik back.”

  Vasso snapped his fingers, and the goblin rushed to her side, whimpering. She lowered herself to hug him, no matter how much her side protested. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”

  Vasso rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hurt him.”

  Her body tensed as she marched past him. Conjuring her magic, she raised the giant torch next to the ashes that had once been a troll.

  “Where are you going?” Vasso asked. The muscle in his cheek twitched. A menacing look crossed his face despite the cool mask he was wearing to cover it. Good. He was pissed too.

  “I’m going to save my sister since you won’t.” As much as she hated him in that moment, a bit of her was relieved by his looming, broody presence behind her. Sera stomped toward her pack, the contents of which had been scattered across the cave when she dropped it.

  There was nothing left to save, so she continued without it.

  Chapter seventy-two

  Alistair

  He hadn’t gotten a spare moment with Chair Thorne since he’d thrown her in the main chamber. Alistair didn’t even know what to call her now. She obviously wasn’t aligned with the Council. Shit. Half the Council was dead now.

  Blackwell and Renata had been incinerated.

  Shadow only knew what was happening within the walls at that moment. If he didn’t think he’d be caught immediately, he’d travel back for Mr. and Mrs. Benero.

  Al passed the makeshift healer’s wing. The prisoners had only minor cuts and bruises now, thanks to him and the one healer he’d saved. Most breaks had been repaired, more or less. Wrists were still deformed, as were many knuckles and fingers. All the prisoners were poorly nourished.

  The domovoi had no qualms about his new guests. Al’s note must have reached the demon lord, and he was thankful for the warm welcome. They’d have been sitting ducks in the woods.

  He went to check on Dominick and Theo. He had tried to give them some privacy, but Dom was in bad shape, and so was Theo. In fact, by the look of it, Theo had been the worst off of all the prisoners.

  “Dominick?” he called out and knocked on the door. After a few moments of silence, he peeked in.

  Dominick sat on the bed, holding Theo in his arms, rocking forward and back. Theo’s skin was tinged gray, and the lack of movement in his chest told Al what he needed to know.

  “Dominick,” Al said softly. He put a hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him from rocking.

  “No.” Dom’s voice was strangled.

  “He’s gone,” he said. Dom didn’t acknowledge him.

  Al assessed his friend. Bloodshot eyes, with a whisper of beard coating his cheeks. He smelled like he hadn’t washed in days.

  “He’s not gone,” Dominick whispered.

  “He is, brother.” He took Theo’s body from Dom’s grasp and laid him back on the bed, then pulled Dominick up to his feet. There was such sorrow in his friend’s eyes that he pulled him to his chest.

  Dom shook in his arms, heavy sobs that racked through his body. Al squeezed tighter and did the same thing for Dominick that Sera did for him. Al wouldn’t let him bear this alone. Colton was gone, his parents, and now Sera. He wouldn’t let Dom fall too.

  “I’ll ask the healer to come and tend to him,” Al said.

  “I will wash him,” Dom said. “I’ll prepare him.”

  Alistair grabbed the chair near the desk and sat Dominick down. Entering the bathing chamber, he gathered a basin of hot water and a sponge. Sera had left some fragrant soap behind, and he added it to the water.

  He left Dominick to do his task alone. Al had heard it could be soothing to prepare the dead, even though they were burned anyway. He’d heard it was a way to say goodbye. Hopefully it would bring his friend some peace.

  Chair Thorne had been holed up in Vasso’s study. The room was on the smaller side, and the house demons had probably cleared out anything that the owner deemed sensitive and stored elsewhere. But it was private and a start.

  “Chair Thorne.” Alistair bowed his head.

  “We have no use for that title here.” She rubbed her eyes. This was the most disheveled he’d ever seen the witch. Usually her red hair was pin-straight, flush with her chin. The white streak he remembered just being in the front seemed to have crawled over the rest of her scalp. Thorne had aged a decade in a day.

  “Some of the house demons have agreed to take watch,” Al said. “Not all of them can be trusted. We encountered a nasty set outside the manor, but those inside never gave us any trouble.”

  “I see,” Thorne said, massaging her temples.

  Alistair sat in the chair opposite her. “What happened?”

  “It started slow. The Council votes on every decision. At first, I didn’t notice the changes in opinion, not even in myself. That is, until Briar stepped down and Lavinia was appointed.”

  “Was Briar forced out of the role?” Council members had the right to govern until death. For there to be a transfer of power was unusual.

  Thorne shook her head. “I don’t think so. She was old and felt her life ending. Corbin, on the other hand, was…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I still don’t know what they did to him.”

  Al rubbed his hand across his chin. This was worse than he thought. Demons were after them, and now the Citadel. “We need a plan.”

  “We need to get more witches and warlocks out. Without the populace, we are nothing. There is no doubt in my mind that they have warded against you. Otherwise, I would have already asked you to start traveling,” Thorne said.

  “Lord Vasso’s reach runs far. I don’t think the Council was entirely wrong about traitors within the Citadel walls. If we can get the word out, if they can escape the fortress, I can get to them. I won’t risk traveling directly in. Not yet.”

  Thorne nodded. “Let’s try to get another message out to this lord.” Alistair rose from his seat and bowed. “We are equals now, Alcott. Please stop with the formalities.”

  As he went to take his place on patrol, a lesser demon handed him a rolled-up piece of paper. He still didn’t know how they came and went undetected.

  Make yourselves at home. That was all the note said.

  He didn’t like being there in Vasso’s space. It smelled wrong, felt wrong. He had told Sera that his magic changed while he was here, though he couldn’t figure out what about it had. He still had full use of his abilities. Nothing hindered him. He didn’t feel sick… just off.

  Maybe she was right about it being a side effect of the parasite, or the fact that he was surrounded constantly by demonic things.

  He thought about that moment. He was so sure they would die, cornered against the rock. He would have traveled above and burned out entirely for her. He wanted one kiss, but he still thought himself a bastard for taking it. His only regret was that he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her how he felt before it went to shit—not really.

  The moment she’d set her eyes on Vasso, something had changed in her. She seemed brighter and more alive around him. Al had been jealous. She’d been right about that. He wanted to be that spark for her, the one to set her alight and make her happy.

  A bolt of energy ran through him like white lightning. Al’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he saw a dark cave. She was deep underground, but the summoning crystal had worked. She needed him. The raised dagger of his bargain itched on his ribs, as if he needed a reminder of what he’s promised Vasso.

  But he wasn’t doing it for him, only her. A beacon in his mind had him honed in exactly on where she’d crushed the crystal, deep in the heart of Gehenna. And here he’d thought standing within this manor was uncomfortable.

  “Shit,” he said, rubbing his brow. There was only one way to find out. Alistair dressed in his Mesar uniform and armed himself until he clinked with each step.

  “Dom?” He cracked the door. Theo’s body was gone, and Dominick lay on his side, facing away from him. “Dominick, are you all right?” Of course he wasn’t all right. But his friend didn’t retort with a sarcastic quip or jab.

  “You need to get up. Sera summoned me. I won’t leave you like this.” He didn’t move. Alistair clenched his teeth. “Dom.”

  “I don’t care,” Dominick said, barely a whisper.

  “Don’t you want to see Sera?”

  “No.”

  He needed time. Alistair sighed and shut the door behind him. Outside, he asked the healer to check in on Dominick every hour.

  “Yes, Mesar.” The healer curtsied, her head dipping low. Moons, he hated the attention this uniform got him.

  Double-checking every pocket and sheath, he prepared himself. Sera had made it to Gehenna. That stubborn witch had done it. He was almost proud of her, but a layer of terror underlay that pride. She had asked for his help, leading him into a den of demons.

  Nothing was easy with her.

  Alistair sent an offering to Shadow, then vanished.

  Chapter seventy-three

  Seraphina

  The cavern tunnels were vast, and Vasso continued to trudge silently behind Sera. She assumed she was headed in the right direction, since he hadn’t corrected her path. Knowing how much he’d kept from her, she should’ve been more worried that he’d lead her astray, but here they were.

  “Are you going to let me heal you?” he asked.

  She winced. She was in so much pain, but the thought of having him touch her right now made her blood boil. “No.”

  She was surprised he stayed. Her heart and her head went back and forth on whether or not she wanted him there.

  Snik stayed close to her side, looking back at Vasso every few paces, scowling and hissing. She didn’t blame the goblin in the least. Vasso had fucking frozen him.

  She walked on, suppressing a pained groan, and rubbed at her chest. That damn braided thread wanted their souls to mend. If she could rip her heart out and live, she would have lit it on fire in front of him to get rid of the constant ache. Just to show him how serious she was.

  The deeper they trekked through the stone tunnels, the more humid it became. She reached for her barrier magic over and over, but it never materialized. Unfortunately, Sera had only one person she could ask.

  “What’s wrong with my magic?”

  “Now you’ll talk to me? When you need something?” His voice was steel. Well, she had known better, hadn’t she? Still, that tether tugged.

  Wiping away the sweat that beaded on her hairline, she continued walking, vowing not to allow his attitude to affect her.

  “When the rebellion began, the stronghold was relocated to this part of Gehenna. Onyx nullifies witch and warlock magic. Well, at least the majority of their magic. Veins run through much of the stone here.”

  “Convenient. I’m assuming that’s why Raven has also disappeared?” she asked, glancing back at him, but Vasso was looking past her. Snik’s ears perked, and he growled at whatever lay ahead.

  Vasso hushed him.

  “Keep silent,” he commanded. “Whatever you do, do not use your vatra magic.” He stepped in front of her. Sera unsheathed her daggers as quietly as possible and dropped to Snik’s level.

  “You need to get out of here.”

  The goblin whined.

  “I won’t let you get hurt. Please go to the manor and help Alistair. He needs you. That’s an order.” She held her arms out, and her loyal green friend hugged her. “Thank you for everything.” He cooed and stroked her braid. Big, soggy tears lined his large brown eyes.

  “I love you, too, buddy.” She would not cry. Not now. Let her make her bargain with Supay; then she could wallow until the end of her sorry life.

  Vasso whispered, “Stay in the shadows and try to keep from being seen.” He dropped his shoulders, held his chin high, and glided forward with that effortless swagger.

  Backing herself against the wall, she sidestepped toward the cave’s opening, keeping to the shadows. Ahead, the chamber was well lit. Torches lined the upper walls, showcasing the giant spears of rock descending from the ceiling. In the center of the room stood a lone figure.

  She recognized the demon lord’s face. It appeared in her nightmares constantly, along with Nora’s screams.

  “Your Majesty, it has been an age. Welcome home.” The sneer Supay gave Vasso contradicted his welcoming words.

  “Majesty?” Sera whispered.

  Ahh, and now you know.

  “I figured it was time to take back what is mine.” Vasso’s words dripped arrogance toward the demon before him. Her body hummed.

  “Here to take back your throne?” Supay paced lazily in front of Vasso.

  “Here to ensure you obey an order when I declare it, Supay.”

  Supay’s eyes blazed red. “It took only three hundred years. I thought the temptation of a bride would bring you back, but apparently not.”

  Tension clogged the cavity in her torso, but the words weren’t lost. Ophelia had said Supay was the interim ruler for the true heir.

  It was Vasso.

  That’s what that woman had meant when she said you’re the reason her sister is captive. Sera’s stomach rolled. A bride. They were going to marry Nora off against her will?

  Sera stared at his back, and she could have sworn his shoulder twitched with an apology before their connection fluttered with sorrow.

  “Better late than never,” Vasso said and crossed his arms.

  “Indeed.” Supay waved his hand, and hundreds of shades emerged from the walls like ink being poured into the sea. The agbris pranced on all fours, filing in from the sides, pacing in wait behind Supay. Click. Click. Click. Their jaws chomped behind their skull masks, their parasite-infested claws screeching across stone.

  Supay glowered, and then all of them launched at Vasso.