“No. Now shut up. This is the end of this conversation, asshole.”

  A vicious snarl was the reply, along with more rattling and hissing.

  “He’s tempting you?” Simon asked.

  “Yeah. It’s the ‘Hey, babe, let’s go kill the Prince and then we can rule in Hell for-evah.’ Pretty lame, you know?”

  Simon laughed. “Probably the best offer you’ll get tonight. I was just going to buy you breakfast on the way back to town.”

  “Some place is actually open this time of night?”

  “A Waffle House will be. You have them in Lawrence, right?”

  She shook her head. “Gotta go to Bonner Springs or Kansas City for those. But we have a Perkins. Their pies are incredibly excellent.”

  That set her reminiscing about her hometown, and when Simon encouraged her to share, she painted him a picture what life was like in Kansas. That it wasn’t all Wizard of Oz and tornadoes, though there were a lot of the latter. Despite all that happened there, she missed her home, and missed her family. Especially her brother. She’d have to save up some money to go back to Lawrence to see him. Sometime soon.

  “You think your parents will be better about your trapping work now?” Simon asked.

  “Not sure. My folks are stubborn, so that would require them to admit they screwed up and that they should apologize. Not sure if that will happen.”

  “Tell them about Ori. Well, not that he’s a Fallen, but what actually happened and why your brother is awake.”

  “They won’t believe it.”

  “Show them that picture on your phone.”

  Katia retrieved it and hunted through the images. “And now Kevin’s in the photo, but Ori’s not, as if he’d never been there at all.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if that’s his doing, or Heaven’s?” Simon mused.

  At her feet Azagar cursed, shaking the box. Apparently mentioning the other address wasn’t appreciated.

  “There’s another person I should notify, but I’m not sure he’s going to be happy to hear from me,” she admitted.

  “Your former master?”

  “Former boyfriend. Noah sided with my parents, which is why he is now an ex.”

  “Ouch,” Simon said, passing a truck and then pulling back into the proper lane. “How long had you been together?”

  “Almost a year. He didn’t like me being a trapper, but once Kevin was hurt, he decided I just had to quit, or we were history.”

  “His loss. If you hadn’t remained a trapper there is no guarantee those boys would have survived. Or me, for that matter. You know that, right?”

  Katia reluctantly nodded. As far as she saw it, he’d done all the hard work while she’d just bad-mouthed a demon. “If you hadn’t become a lay exorcist, those guys might not be going home to their parents tonight.” She let him chew on that for a while, then added, “Next time we’ll do breakfast at Waffle House.”

  “You’re on.”

  By the time they drew close to the monastery, Katia had learned that he loved fried chicken and banana cream pie. He wasn’t fond of peaches, which might be considered heresy in the peach-growing state of Georgia, so he didn’t tell anyone. She’d admitted to being addicted to apple pie and vanilla ice cream. During the entire conversation the demon had continued to rumble at her feet like a feral dog.

  After he’d turned off the main highway, Simon sent them down a series of back roads, then executed a right turn onto the monastery grounds. More driving past the actual monastery itself, then further and further into the dark woods. He finally pulled into a gravel parking lot near a metal building where they would dispose of the Four. A single security light on a tall pole illuminated the area as much as possible. It was good she trusted him because they were in the middle of nowhere.

  As Katia stepped out of the car, she pulled her trapping bag onto her shoulder. When Simon noticed, he nodded more to himself than her.

  “Usually, I’d be feeling safe by now, but I’m not tonight.”

  “We can’t be, not with the Chief Dickhead’s warning,” she said.

  “I notice you didn’t call him that while we were down there.”

  “I was so tempted. Lucifer is one scary SOB. When I first became a trapper, I’d tried to picture him in my head, but I was nowhere close. Same thing with Hell.”

  “Riley says Hell is different for each of us, so what we saw was probably a combination of your worst fears and mine.”

  “Sure did the trick,” she admitted.

  Simon popped the trunk, moved some items from his exorcism kit to his trapping bag while Katia retrieved the box from the car. Curiously, the fiend had fallen silent.

  Simon keyed the code into the electronic lock, slid the heavy metal door to one side, and then waited for his companion’s reaction to the radiance that naturally filled the inside of the building.

  “Okay, that’s cool,” Katia said as she stood at the doorway, her face bathed in the white and pale blue glow. “What kind of lights are they using?” A pause and then “Oh!” She turned to him, eyes wide. “That’s . . . the Light, isn’t it?

  “Yes, it is.” Her child-like wonder reminded him of why he faced Hellspawn day after day. The Light was more than just a religious concept, but a true force in this world.

  He made his way to a bank of switches inside, pushing them upward to illuminate the rest of the interior with more traditional lighting. No matter how many times he came here, each visit still awed him.

  Huge crosses had been painted in gold on all four walls, with more on the floor, and the ceiling. In the very center of the structure was a dais made of marble, and resting on top of that was an ornate metal cage which also had crosses and Latin prayers carved into it.

  The process was straightforward: Simon would place the box containing the Hellspawn inside the cage, and since this building was holy ground, that power would destroy the fiend. Once the demon was dead, he discarded the ashes in a sanctified field a short distance away.

  Katia remained just outside the door, still staring. “Does it have to be crosses?”

  It was a question he’d asked himself. “To no one’s surprise, the Vatican’s official position is ‘yes’, it must be crosses.”

  “And your opinion is . . . ?”

  “Well, if you’d asked me before I almost died, I would have insisted that only crosses would work, and been offended you’d suggested otherwise.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I believe the Light reaches people in different ways. If that’s true, using a Star of David or Islam’s Crescent and Star would work just as well. So would other religious symbols. They’re all part of the Light. But, that’s my personal opinion. If you ask Simon Adler, Lay Exorcist, it’s crosses all the way.”

  “I now have blackmail material,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

  Just as Katia began to enter the building, the metal box containing the fiend jerked in her hand, dragging her backward. When she fell, it kept pulling her along, like she was at the end of a leash. Finally, the box wrenched free and sailed some thirty feet beyond into a grassy meadow. When it struck the ground, it rolled over and over.

  “What the hell was that?” she said, climbing to her feet, her jeans dirty and grass stained.

  “Wait, I’ll get it.” Katia was already heading for the box, and he reacted on instinct. “No! Come back!”

  “Why? I’ll just—”

  The top of the container flew open and Azagar erupted from his prison in a single explosive blast. The shock wave of that eruption rolled across the trapper, knocking her down again, then hit Simon, whistling around him like a windstorm as he gripped the metal doorway to stay upright.

  As the wind diminished, he sprinted to Katia and helped her up. Hobbling over, she picked up her trapping bag where it had fallen, right before another gust of wind swept them off their feet. When he rose, Simon touched his forehead where the papal Holy Water had been applied, then did the same to the ground at their feet. Would it work? He’d never waited this long between the application and an attempt to call up a circle.

  To his immense relief, the circle bloomed around them, encasing them even as Azagar shouted his joy at being free, then stomped in their direction, his sword blazing in the night. His arm was healed, his armor intact. How had that happened?

  “What’s happening here? Isn’t this holy ground?” Katia demanded.

  “The building is on holy ground, but not where he is. We never figured one of these things would get loose.”

  They never had, until tonight. Simon swore he could hear Lucifer’s chilling laughter.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Simon gritted his teeth. “We never covered this in Exorcism class,” he complained, watching as Azagar stomped around, spouting oaths. Most were in Hellspeak and aimed at his former master. In time, his focus would center on the two of them. Even worse, sooner or later one of the monks would come to investigate all the noise, and that unlucky soul would die.

  “We’ll just have to make it up as we go.”

  He huffed. “Any suggestions?”

  “Can you get him inside a circle like this one? Lock him in?”

  “Not unless one of us wants to be in there with it.”

  “Ah, no thanks,” Katia replied. “How about getting him back in the box like you did the first time around?”

  He gestured at the tattered remains of the demon’s prison in the distance. “Not an option.”

  “Damn. Do you think Lucifer did this?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think he could open the box.” Which meant someone else had helped the fiend.

  Azagar finally ended his rant and squared up with his closest opponents.

  “Simon Michael David Adler! You thought you defeated me and yet I will carry your broken body to my master and throw your corpse at his feet. I will do the same with the trapper bitch. Then the Prince will accept me once more.”

  “Not a chance. The Prince of Lies doesn’t trust you, which should tell you something,” Simon called back.

  The reply was a gout of fire that blasted the circle, curving around it, trying to find a way in. The grass around them smoldered. If they remained in the circle Azagar would grow tired of this and vanish. Lucifer would claim their souls, and those of the teens, and there would be nothing Simon could do to stop him.

  The fiend had to die. But how?

  When Simon didn’t respond to the taunts, the Four rained more fire against the barrier. His anger growing, he charged up and then threw himself against the shield. The pain had to be immense, which only maddened Azagar further. Another strike, then another.

  “Man, is this thing stubborn. You’d think he’d know that wouldn’t work,” Katia said. “At least I hope that’s the case.”

  Except a thin flicker had begun to show at the top of the shield, about seven feet up. It was something Simon had never seen before. That area began to expand, as if someone was poking their finger into a water bubble, trying to make it burst.

  “What’s that?” she asked, following his gaze.

  “Bad news,” Simon replied. Their only other sanctuary was behind them, if they could reach it.

  “I have an idea.” She leaned close and whispered it into his ear.

  “No.” It was much too risky.

  “You have something better?”

  “No!”

  “Well, sorry, but it’s my way or nothing. Are you going to stand there or work with me on this?” she demanded.

  What she was proposing was insane, but he knew they had no other choice, and that made him angry. Lucifer had let them escape Hell, only to ensure they died here.

  “Simon?”

  Bam! Another hit from Azagar who picked himself up, arms on fire, and bellowed into the night. “You are mine! I will destroy you, Simon the Betrayer! I will pull your heart from your chest and devour it!”

  The weakened area on the circle began to widen, inching down the side of the barrier. If it reached the ground, he feared the protection would collapse.

  “Dude, we’ve got no choice,” she said quietly. “You’re the one who was into track and field.”

  “Okay, but for God’s sake, be careful.”

  While they’d argued, Azagar had backed up to where he’d first broken free of the box, preparing himself for a final run, no doubt intending to throw his entire weight at the weakest point in the circle. He dug his clawed feet into the ground, tossing turf behind him like an enraged bull.

  Simon murmured a prayer and heard Katia’s faint “Amen.”

  With a final bellow, the Four took off at a trot, eyes ablaze, sword in hand. Thirty feet, twenty-five, then twenty. All Simon could see were those wicked teeth and the blade that would carve them to pieces.

  “Now!” Katia yelled.

  Simon broke the circle and sprinted toward the building, the trapper right behind him. The demon thundered on, gaining on them, closer with each footfall.

  Katia’s panicked breaths mirrored his own. A glance over his shoulder saw the demon speed up. Fifteen feet, ten, then abruptly Katia dropped to the ground, tucking into a ball, covering her head. Azagar was so close, the fiend stumbled over her body. Off balance now, his tremendous momentum carried him on toward the building.

  Just as the demon reached for him, Simon whirled out of range. Azagar kept moving forward, even as he tried not to, the claws on his feet sparking on the concrete ramp that led to the building’s interior.

  With an oath, Simon kicked out, driving a foot deep into Azagar’s armored back, sending the monster careening inside. The moment the Hellspawn’s feet touched Holy ground, steam began to rise, along with a terrified shriek of agony. Rolling the big door closed with a bang, Simon wedged himself against it.

  “May the Light cleanse the Darkness within!” he called out. “May this fiend perish and with him all that is evil. May the Almighty make it so!”

  The shrieks grew in intensity, the door shuddering as Azagar hammered against it in panic. Offers flew into Simon’s mind—untold wealth, immense power, everything a mortal might want if he would only release the Mezmer.

  “No,” Simon said simply. “Die, you bastard. Just die.”

  A final heart-rending scream tore through the night, and then . . . silence. Simon’s ears rang, and he shook his head to clear them.

  The mound that was his companion was not moving. “Kat?” No reply. “Katia!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” she said, unfolding. She leveraged herself up on an elbow, then flopped over on her back. “They don’t die quietly, do they? That sounded awful.”

  “It would have been.” It almost made him feel sorry for the fiends, but then he always remembered those they’d killed. Like his fellow trappers, or the young pregnant woman who hadn’t survived her exorcism.

  With more sustained effort Katia made it to her feet and limped over to him, her clothes covered in dirt. Wincing, she touched her back. She sighed as she parked herself on the ground and leaned up against the building. Tempted as he was to open the door, Simon did the same, his butt hitting the dirt. As a reminder of his own mortality, his calf throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was until this moment.

  “You hurt?” he asked, watching her closely.

  It was some time before an answer came his way. “One of his claws got me. It’ll be okay if you treat it for me.”

  “I’ll do it before we leave. Anything else?”

  “I think my ankle is way pissed. Other than that, I’m good.” She nodded to herself. “Yeah, I’m not dead, and I’m not serving brimstone cocktails in Hell’s sleeziest dive bar. For eternity. With no tips, ever.” She grinned over at him, drunk on the high that came with survival. “No, it’s all good, Simon. It’s all good.”

  “Brimstone cocktails?” he asked, trying to picture them.

  “You know, the ones that come in a hollowed-out skull, with the little flaming pitchforks and a slice of rotting lemon? I’m sure they’re a big hit down there. Probably sell a ton of them during Unholy Hour. And don’t get me started about the bar snacks they’d serve.”

  The horror and the fear gave way to genuine laughter, and he let it consume him. God, it felt good. How long had it been since he’d truly savored being alive?

  Too long. Much too long.

  Once the laughter ended, he looked heavenward. Above them the night sky sparkled with stars. Infinity. Life and death. Light and Dark. The concepts humans found so hard to comprehend until they had to face them head on.

  “The boys are safe now,” he said. He could hardly believe it. “Your plan worked great. You are badass, Katia Allyson Breman.”

  “We were badass, Simon David Michael Adler.” she said, smiling over at him.

  “We are,” he admitted. “And its Michael David, not the other way around.”

  “Sorry. Why do you rate two middle names?”

  “No clue,” he replied. “The David is from one of my uncles. He lives in Sarasota now. He keeps hermit crabs as pets, of all things. The Michael is from the Archangel, and Simon was an apostle.”

  “Impressive. I was named after my grandmother. She was impressive too.”

  She’d mentioned that before so it must be really important to her. “Your grandmother would be damned proud of you right now.”

  “I’d like to think so.” Then she sobered. “That thing with the circle coming undone. Is that normal?”

  “No, not at all.” He’d been enjoying the sheer joy of surviving this entire horrible night, but some things needed to be addressed. “How did a demon escape from a warded box? There’s no way it should have done that.”

  “I’ll go find what’s left of the thing. Maybe you can see how it got opened,” she said, rising to her feet. Katia wavered a bit, then took a few steps. “More good news—the ankle isn’t as pissed as I thought.”