“Your apology is accepted.”

  “Thank you. I’ll try to do better.” She noted he didn’t acknowledge that other people had their hardass moments as well.

  “This is likely to be a one-way trip tonight. You saw what happened to Chaffin.”

  “Any crazier than exorcising fiends or going to Hell to chat with the Infernal Asshole?”

  He shook his head. “The first we know how to handle. The second, we got lucky. I’m feeling really bad about this whole thing, Katia. We have no clue what we’re facing over there.”

  “Then why did you offer to go?”

  It took Simon a few moments to reply as if he was weighing his answer.

  “Because I saw Chaffin’s expression. He’s in love with The Lady and he risked his life to save her. Not for his ego, but for her and her kind. As much as I want to hate him, I just can’t. And I won’t let you go alone. I couldn’t do that.”

  “I can’t hate him, either.”

  “The penalty for necros who steal corpses is to have their magic ripped from them. Most of them go insane and are put in an asylum somewhere, staring at the four walls and drooling. If they’re not insane, they go to prison. Or he might face exile into the skeleton bird realm. I’m not sure what would be worse.”

  “Still, he risked all that for her,’ Katia said.

  “He did.” More shouts came from the badminton game, triumphant ones as if someone had just won a match.

  “I think you should talk to your parents before we go. In case . . . ” he trailed off.

  In case we don’t come back.

  There was no way she could keep the worry out of her voice, and she didn’t dare tell them what she and Simon were facing. Then there was the matter of her move to Atlanta.

  At first, her folks had been really upset. Her brother had said they were better now, but that she doubted. Maybe her father had chilled out, but her mother had always been a hard one to understand. They had never been able to find common ground, not since that day that she’d discovered that Katia was anything but normal.

  “No, I’m not going to talk to them. That means we both have to survive this nonsense. What about your folks?”

  Simon immediately shook his head. “I’m not telling them. They know what I do has a lot of risk involved. They can’t know about the other realms, at least not yet. It’s bad enough my sister knows about them.”

  “Okay, so we’re going to do this,” she said, letting that sink in. “I think we should take our usual gear. Well, not the metal box thing because this isn’t a demon, but some Holy Water. And my steel pipe.”

  He blinked in response to her comment, as if something had just occurred to him. “I never gave you . . . ” He rose. “I have something for you that might be better.”

  Simon walked down to the garage, unlocked the side door and slipped inside. When he returned, he carried a long wooden staff. A bō.

  “Happy Birthday,” he said, then to her surprise he knelt on one knee in front of her, his arms extended, offering the staff like a knight would to his queen.

  “Simon . . . ”

  Those brilliant blue eyes met hers. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m really into you, Katia Breman. Sure, we work together, but that’s not only how I see you.” He glanced down at the staff and then back up again.

  “Please don’t shoot down my fantasy that someday we might be something more than friends. I need hope for what we’re facing tonight.” He swallowed, hard. “Please just accept this gift and smile. That’ll be enough.”

  She knew that eventually they would need to talk about whatever was happening between them. But not tonight.

  Katia took the bō, smiled, then tried not to cry because this was so much more than she’d anticipated. Why was she so emotional right now?

  “Oh, this is wonderful!” She examined the staff, running her hands along the smooth oak. “How did you know?”

  “Riley showed me your video. I hope you don’t mind, but I shared it with an instructor at the dojo up north. She helped me pick out your presents.”

  “Thank you so much. I meant it!” Then she paused, confused. “Presents?”

  As if by magic, a black case appeared in his hand. She’d been so fixated on the bō she hadn’t seen it. This time he just handed it over, skipping the bow.

  “Sometimes you’ll need a long staff, sometimes you’ll need a collapsible one. Now you have a choice.”

  Katia unzipped the case and then stared. The bō inside was blue, the color of his eyes. She’d always wanted one of these.

  “Oh my God, Simon.” She removed it, still staring. “One was enough.”

  “I wanted you to have a choice.”

  A choice.

  Since she’d become a trapper, she’d had no choice but to do things that didn’t make her life any easier. And yet this guy who’d she’d only known for a brief time, understood she needed those choices. He knew her better than her own family.

  “Which will you take with you tonight?” Simon asked, rising. After dusting off his knees, he settled back into the lawn chair. He seemed genuinely pleased at her reaction to the gifts.

  “If the Unholy Terror is fae, it won’t like the metal. But an oak staff gives me other options. I’ll have to think on this.”

  “While you’re thinking, can I have a demo? I mean, the video is great, but seeing your skills in person would be even better.”

  That she could do.

  Katia chose the collapsible bō, curious how it would feel. Extending it with a snap of her wrist, she moved into the center of the yard and took a relaxed stance. After a few deep breaths she began to move, to let the staff talk to her because each of them had their own personality.

  The first test move was more awkward than she would have liked, but Simon didn’t comment on that. The next few moves smoothed out. Soon she was flowing with the bō, becoming one with it.

  She began with ten overhead strikes, followed by a high block, then one to the left and then the right. As her body warmed up she went for a side kick. It wasn’t at all graceful, but the next three were better. And then she moved into the spins, a grounded block, a reverse hook kick, and then an uppercut.

  After a few more spins she let the staff come to rest, sucking air into her lungs as fast as possible. She hadn’t exercised like this in over six months and it showed. And yet, when she looked up, she found Simon staring at her in awe.

  “My God, you’re incredible,” he said, then gave her a huge smile. “You rock, Katia from Kansas. You know that, right?”

  No, she didn’t. But hearing it from him made her think it might just be true.

  “I’m kind of rusty at this.”

  “You’ll get there. Like my sword fighting skills. One tiny step at a time. You make mistakes, then you learn. It’s how life works.” He was so right about that.

  “Ice cream to celebrate?” he asked.

  At her nod, Simon headed inside the house leaving her alone with her amazing presents and his astounding confession. Was it possible that they had a future together, one even more than just friendship?

  “Maybe,” she whispered. Maybe.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  For Katia, Atlanta at night was a wonderland of lights, sounds, and smells. The Gulch, the heart of the city, only seemed to magnify those sensations. The buildings around her were lit like blazing candles as traffic streamed along. Lively music came from a bar nearby. She listened for a bit longer, then smiled. There was a bagpipe in there somewhere.

  As it was close to ten most of the cars were gone, the commuters tucked in their homes and apartments for the night. That left a few locals wandering around, some in groups of four or more, as well as the occasional stray cat. One had two kittens trailing behind her as they went in search of a meal.

  For Simon and the others this was home. For Katia this was foreign territory. Unlike at home or in Kansas City, she could feel the undercurrents of magic and the presence of the fiends as if they were just another scent in the wind. Less of the latter in the last week.

  Lucifer was no fool. He knew something was playing out here and he’d pulled his fiends out of the way. Well, not all of them or that pile of Threes wouldn’t have happened.

  When her phone buzzed and she knew who it was even before she read the message. When he’d gone to take a shower, she’d left Simon a note telling him she needed time on her own. That she’d meet him in The Gulch. What she hadn’t said was that she needed a chance to put things in perspective before they entered the unknown.

  The gifting of her presents, and what he’d said about her, had stirred up feelings she’d thought long forgotten. What would it be like to be loved by someone like him?

  And if they dared take that step, what would happen if that relationship failed? Dare they risk losing such a deep friendship?

  As if reminding her of his commitment to her, Simon’s text read:

  be there soon. Please Don’t go without me.

  She texted back, promising to wait for him, and a smiley face was his reply. Clipping her phone back on her belt, Katia hefted her trapping bag and tucked her oak staff under her arm. She set off toward the one part of this big parking lot that called to her more than any other area. This time there were no gray ashes on the pavement, no Ori the Divine. Just the city and the sense that what had happened here had changed Atlanta in ways that few understood. And that included the angels.

  Setting her gear down, she put her hand over the top of the pavement where the remains had once been. The asphalt still radiated heat from the day’s high temperature. If she was right, it radiated more than that.

  Katia had done a lot of thinking about the Angel of Death and what had happened here. It seemed that its job description was not complicated: Kill everyone, burn everything. Job done.

  And yet when it’d been in Atlanta it hadn’t left a black seething mass of destruction behind it, not like the videos she had seen from other countries. Italy’s visitation had been unbelievably horrific.

  Here the angel had left behind those ashes, the remnants of the warriors it’d used to distract Riley and Beck while it fought with the other Divine. Ashes that had not been taken back to Heaven with the angel after its death.

  But why would that matter?

  “Because that’s not the way it was supposed to work,” she murmured.

  It was doubtful that God’s executioner would only be confined to this world when it came to smiting the wicked. No, the Angel of Death would need the ability to go to any realm created by the Almighty, which many believed was the entire universe. If that was the case it should be able to walk the worlds, like some of the necromancers.

  That was probably part of its essence, a built-in ability that didn’t require any magic at all. At least not the kind Katia was familiar with. Since those gray fragments had once been part of the executioner . . .

  “Could that be it?” she whispered. “Is that why other realms can open into ours now?”

  As if on cue she felt Ori’s presence again, and she turned to confront him. “Am I right? Is this why the other realms are connecting to ours?”

  The angel’s mouth formed a grim line. His face said he was weary, and he lacked his usual vitality, as if all this upheaval was taking a personal toll.

  “Well?”

  “I can’t answer that question.”

  “Why not? You’re not working for Heaven anymore. You should be able to tell me the truth.”

  Again, silence. His eyes were darker now and she could feel his anger, though it didn’t seem aimed at her.

  “Can Serrah tell me?”

  He shook his head. “She’s still finding her own way here, just like you.”

  “Okay, here’s a question maybe you can answer. Was the Angel of Death able to walk the worlds?”

  A cautious nod came her way.

  “And those gray ashes were created by it?”

  Another nod.

  “So that stuff can probably move through time and space, just like the Angel of Death.”

  He nodded again, his eyes deeply troubled. “Riley Anora Blackthorne destroyed those.”

  “But did she get all of them?”

  No reply.

  She shifted topics because this wasn’t helping her and Simon’s chances of survival tonight. “You said angels like you aren’t allowed to walk the realms. Can you break the rules and do it anyway?”

  “No. At least not to my knowledge.”

  “Well, so much for Divine backup tonight,” she muttered. “You know where we’re headed? What we’re facing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any suggestions how to stop something that lives on pure life force?”

  Again, no reply. That pissed her off.

  “Are you here to just stare at me, or are you going to tell us how to keep ourselves alive? Because if you’re not here to help you can just go the hell away.”

  Ori looked away for a time, his shoulders high and tight. “I cannot help you in the way you would like.”

  “Wonderful,” she said, making sure the sarcasm rang through. “Unless we’re incredibly lucky, we won’t be seeing our friends or our families ever again. Chaffin was systematically tortured, Ori. His magic was drained. I figure we’ll be given the same treatment. Hopefully, we’ll die quickly. If not . . . ”

  Another look into the distance, then his posture grew less rigid as if somewhere someone had spoken to him.

  “I cannot tell you much that might help because of certain restrictions, but . . . the skills you and the exorcist possess are especially important. Remember what you are and what strengths you both possess. That may make all the difference.”

  Ori turned now, gazing at the headlights of an approaching taxi as it crossed the parking lot. “He is here.” The angel looked back at her, his face full of worry. “Do not fail him.”

  Then the Divine was gone, vanishing as if he’d never been there in the first place.

  Katia swore under her breath. “Really helpful suggestions, dude.”

  Go with the Light, Katia Allyson Breman. It will never desert you.

  With a deep sigh she nodded her understanding, for that much was true.

  She caught up with Simon near where the piles of demon corpses had once been. That area was now as tidy as it could be in the middle of a parking lot. Someone, probably Fireman Jack’s guys, had even given the pavement a quick scrub.

  And I think my job can be bad.

  Simon carried a sheathed sword, but no trapping bag. He was in a black T-shirt, black pants and hiking boots, almost exactly what Katia was wearing. The small silver cross hanging on his chest seemed so different than the one he’d sacrificed so they could make the trip into the skeleton bird realm.

  “You okay?” he asked, concerned.

  She could just imagine how angry she looked.

  “As good as I can be. I just needed space to get my head straight.”

  “Did it help?”

  “Not really.” If anything, it was worse after her time with the angel. “Ori said we should remember what we are.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think he was allowed to say much more.”

  “Great,” Simon muttered.

  “You didn’t bring your car.”

  “I thought it was best if it was at home.”

  Which meant he didn’t think they’d be alive when this was over.

  Two cars pulled up now. One of them was Riley’s and she exited hers as Ayden and Mort climbed out of the other one. Somehow, they’d timed their arrivals, which was a miracle in this city.

  “Magical reinforcement,” Simon said.

  The passenger side door of Riley’s car opened and someone in a navy robe stepped out. Using a cane for support, the rogue necromancer slowly moved forward until he was a few feet away from them. Chaffin still looked like crap, but not as fragile as this morning.

  When Katia gave her master a questioning look, Riley shrugged. “He insisted he had to be here.”

  “I do. I have no choice.” Chaffin took a deep breath. “If you can’t get into my lady’s realm, come back here. Then maybe I can walk you in.”

  “You think the Unholy Terror is going to let you go a second time?” Katia asked, surprised by this offer. If he went back, he’d die for sure.

  “It won’t matter. Do not let anyone in that realm hear your full name. That’s especially important.”

  Katia and Simon traded looks.

  “I could never really get a fix on what the Unholy Terror is, but the power it has feels slimy, if that makes any sense.”

  Slimy magic did sound familiar, at least when it came to demons. But if angels couldn’t do inter-realm hops, the Death dude being the exception, neither could Hellspawn. No way would Heaven allow that to happen.

  “Then it’s an unknown evil until we figure it out,” Simon said.

  “That’s the best way to think of it.”

  Riley moved closer now, then enveloped her in a tight hug.

  “Use those strengths of yours, and not just the physical ones. You are a warrior, Katia, and this battle is yours to win. Go there, kick ass, then come back to us. You hear me?”

  “I do.”

  Then it was Simon’s turn. Their embrace went on longer, but then he and Riley had been closer at one time. Then he stepped back, his expression troubled.

  “I wish I could do more,” Mort said, shaking his head.

  “Same here,” Ayden added. “Do not discount the fae. If they can help you, they will. Their world is in danger and they’re biding their time to get revenge.”

  “Just guard the door,” Simon said. “If we can’t kill this thing, make sure it doesn’t get into our world. That will be the best revenge I can think of.”

  After a nod from Chaffin, they gathered their gear and headed toward where Katia had found the injured necro.