Beck shook his head. It all made sense now. “Does Riley know any of this?”

  “No. All she needs to know is how to survive. When Sartael begins the battle anew, I will try to kill him, but he has many demons in thrall and draws strength from all of them. If he is injured, he can heal himself by pulling on their life energy. He will most likely defeat me.”

  “Damn,” Beck muttered, running a hand through his hair. The air grew stickier now and his shirt clung to his back. “What about the other Fallen? What will they do?”

  “Unknown. My job is to try to kill Sartael as quickly as possible so that my kind do not step into the war against their master.”

  “Why are ya tellin’ me all this?”

  The angel rose. His face was hard, jaw set. “Your task is to keep Blackthorne’s Daughter alive. That is all that matters to me.”

  “What? Why would ya care?” Beck demanded, leaping to his feet. “Are ya in love with her?”

  “Not in the way you are, trapper. I love what I see in her eyes, for there is a glimpse of Heaven there. I told her that once, but she thought I lied so I could seduce her.” Ori shook his head sadly. “It was the truth.”

  “If ya die, her soul is still goin’ to the Prince.”

  Ori cocked his head. “No. If I die before Riley Anora Blackthorne, her soul is freed from Hell. That was part of our deal. If Sartael learns of this, he will ensure I do not die.”

  “Who knows about that part of the deal?”

  “Only Lucifer. Riley drove a hard bargain, but that won’t matter when Sartael comes to Atlanta. He will destroy her.”

  “He has to get through me first,” Beck replied. “I know I’m not some high-and-mighty angel like . . . you, but I’ll do my best to keep her alive.”

  “You swear that on your soul?” Ori retorted.

  Beck stilled. So there’s the trap.

  “If you fail to keep Riley alive, your soul will belong to Hell.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  The corners of Ori’s mouth rose into a smile. “I can see why a grand master has taken you under his wing. You have little fear.”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “I’m willing to share knowledge that is forbidden to mortals. I’m going to tell you how to kill a Divine.”

  He jolted in surprise. “What keeps me from doin’ the same to you?”

  “I am trusting that you love Riley more than you desire revenge.”

  Ori had read him right.

  “Damn you,” Beck muttered, knowing he’d been cornered. “Tell me what I need to know. If Riley dies, it won’t matter where I go. My life will be Hell anyway.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  As they walked in tandem down the hallway to Stewart’s den, Riley tightened her grip on Beck’s hand.

  “Frightened?” he asked.

  “Totally. I’d be losing it if you weren’t here with me.”

  “Then I’m doin’ my job,” he said and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  Both masters were waiting, just as Beck had warned her. Harper had a cup of coffee in his hand, his scar pulled tight along the side of his face. He nodded at her, but she saw none of the animosity she’d faced in the past. Stewart was in his favorite chair, but his posture spoke of considerable tension.

  “Lass,” he said. “Have a seat and then tell us what’s goin’ on. Leave nothin’ out, ya ken? Then we’ll see if there’s anythin’ we can do for ya.”

  When Riley sat on the couch, Beck unfolded an afghan and wrapped her in it, a loving gesture. In his own way, he was telling the masters that if they thought they were going to throw her to the wolves, he would be in their faces.

  “Go on,” Beck urged. “We can’t do this alone.”

  Once Riley began, the story of her and the Fallen angel burst from her like a storm-swollen river. She left nothing out, telling them how they’d sealed the deal in the cemetery for her soul so Ori could fight Sartael, and the unique terms of the arrangement. What that meant for both her and the angel. As Riley spoke, she stared at the marks on her palms, not at the faces of the two men who held her fate in their hands. She was afraid of what she’d see there.

  “Ori showed up after I returned from Sadlersville,” she continued. “He’s been teaching me how to kill demons. Last night . . . we were summoned to Hell.”

  There was weighty silence after she finished. Riley forced her eyes up, toward the masters. Harper stared down into his cup. Stewart’s face was pensive.

  “I know you have to tell the Vatican,” she said. “I don’t want them to blame you, Master Stewart. It was me. I made the mistakes.”

  “You never had a chance,” Harper said, his eyes rising to meet hers. “Once your father sold his soul, they went right after you.” He sighed. “Truth is, I would have done the same for my son.”

  It was as close to an apology as she’d ever receive.

  Stewart stirred. “We’ll need ta talk this out, lass. Go get some rest. We’ll let ya know what we decide.”

  Beck gave her a kiss on the cheek. Then she moved out of the room and down the hall, defeat in every step.

  “How long have ya known about the angel?” Stewart asked.

  Beck eased the door closed. “Only a couple days. You?”

  “I spoke with her demi-lord right after the pair of ya went ta South Georgia. I called Harper the same day ta let him know what was in the wind.”

  Beck frowned at the pair of them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because there were other things the pair of ya needed ta sort out before ya faced this immense challenge. Am I right?”

  He nodded wearily. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “Has the angel talked ta ya yet?”

  This was not what he’d expected, and it angered him. Agitated, he jabbed his fingers through his hair, then sank wearily onto the couch. They knew all along and never told me.

  “Lad?” Stewart pressed.

  “Yeah, this mornin’ the angel pulled me out of my own home like I was some damned puppet.”

  “Then ya know we’re in grave danger. The angels are verra angry with Lucifer right now. Not all of them care for Ori in any fashion, but Lucifer denying him the right ta die tells them they’re little more than pawns, no better than the Hellspawn, who they detest. That was Lucifer’s mistake. He got too clever for his own good.”

  “Ori believes Sartael will be freed tonight, when that reverend tries to cast out the demons,” Beck said.

  Neither master looked surprised. “We’ve already got our people ready,” Harper said. “The necromancers are on board and maybe a witch or two. They know their job is to deal with the demons while Ori tries to kill Sartael.”

  “Ya understand yer role, lad?” Stewart asked, his eyes riveted on Beck now.

  “Yes. I’m to keep Riley alive, and maybe even take down Sartael if I get lucky.”

  “Wouldn’t count on the latter,” Harper said. Stewart didn’t reply, his eyes still locked on Beck.

  How much else does he know that he’s not tellin’ us?

  He snorted. “So let me get this right—we’re gonna be sidin’ with one part of Hell against the other.”

  “The lesser of two evils, my friend,” Stewart replied.

  At least my will is up to date.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  Brunch was as sumptuous as usual, but Riley had no appetite, so she stared at the eggs on her plate as they grew cold. Mrs. Ayers fussed a bit, then gave up and left her alone. Shortly after that she was joined by Master Stewart, who slid out a chair and sat across from her. Riley knew him well enough to know that what he was about to tell her wasn’t good news.

  “The Vatican wants me in Rome, right?”

  “Aye. They’re hopeful that they can get ya out of harm’s way.”

  “That’s not going to work. Ori will call me to him whenever he wants. It won’t matter where I am.” She pushed her plate away. “How soon do I have to leave?”

  “A few days,” Stewart said. “They have ta make arrangements and I’ve told them not ta be in a hurry.”

  His somber tone made her look up. “Why?”

  Stewart laid his hands on the table, fingers spread. “Whatever is brewin’ in Hell will be goin’ down before ya leave. I have that on good authority.”

  “But who . . .” Ori. He was totally plugged into Hell’s politics. Or was it the Prince who’d been keeping Stewart in the loop? Had she been wrong about the master? Had he really been working for Lucifer all along?

  “I’m not on Hell’s payroll,” he replied, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “As a grand master I am tasked ta preserve the balance between good and evil. Sometimes that means I work with those I would consider my enemies.”

  “Like Lucifer and Ori.”

  Stewart nodded in return. “When Sartael is freed, he will return ta this city ta exact his revenge. There will be a bloodbath.”

  “Then have the Vatican’s guys come back to Atlanta.”

  “Nay, it’s our job, and there won’t be time for the demon hunters ta get here anyway.”

  The hunters could move pretty quickly, which meant . . . “How soon is this going to happen?”

  “Tonight. It’s for the best. The longer the war brews in Hell, the worse it will be. Many of the demons and the Fallen haven’t chosen sides yet. We want ta keep it that way.”

  “In case they go Team Sartael,” Riley replied.

  “Aye. I’ve known all along that Ori was trainin’ ya, and I reluctantly agreed with that. He is tryin’ ta keep ya alive.”

  He knew what was happening and he didn’t stop it?

  It appeared that just about everyone had been playing her for a sucker.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  It was early afternoon when Beck tapped on the door to Stewart’s house. To his relief, Riley answered and beckoned him in.

  “I thought, well . . . ” he began, then faltered, unsure of how to ask for what he needed between them.

  Riley didn’t reply, but took his hand and led him up the stairs to her room. As he set his backpack on the floor, she shut the door behind them. Then locked it. She wanted the same as he did—the chance to spend their last few hours together, as lovers would.

  This time she took the lead, slowly removing his clothes, garment by garment. Every touch spoke of love and of sadness yet to be experienced, of the potential for unthinkable loss. Riley was not as experienced as most of the women he’d been with, curiously awkward and shy, but that did not matter to him. She was claiming him as her own, and it humbled him. If this was their last day on earth, he could think of no better way to spend it than with the woman he loved.

  “Why did we waste so much time?” he whispered later. “I think of all the nights we could have shared. Why was I so stubborn?”

  “We both were,” Riley replied. “We were too scared of being hurt again.”

  He fell silent for a few minutes, pondering his life and the twists and turns it’d made along the way. “I went to see Louisa and her husband before I left Sadlersville. While we were talkin’, her baby began to kick somethin’ fierce.” He slid his hand onto Riley’s bare abdomen. “I got to thinkin’ that a few years down the line, when yer older, what if that was our baby and I could feel it right here under my hand. Feel the life we’d created.”

  Riley’s eyes moistened. “Girl or boy?”

  “Doesn’t matter. If it’s a girl, we could name her after my gran. Her name was Emily Rose.”

  “Hmm, I like that. Maybe the boy could be Paul Arthur, like my dad.”

  “Yeah, that works. But that’s all way down the line, isn’t it?” It might never come to pass.

  Her breath caught and then in a swift motion, she slid out of his arms and off the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said softly, hunting for something in her pack. Once she returned to bed, Riley modestly tucked the sheet up to cover her breasts.

  “When I was in front of Lucifer, I held on to your ring. It was as if you were there with me and I didn’t feel so alone.” She took a deep breath, like she was working up her courage. “There’s a lot of darkness coming our way, Den. I want you to have a little bit of light of your own.”

  She offered him a small white box. Inside was a thick leather cord, and attached to the cord, a band of silver he knew so well.

  “It’s Paul’s wedding ring,” he said, looking back up at her in amazement.

  Riley touched it with fondness. “Your fingers are bigger than my dad’s, so I thought you could wear it around your neck instead.”

  She had offered him one of her most prized possessions, just as he’d given her one of his. The gesture so touched his heart, speech failed him.

  Beck set the box aside and slipped the cord over his head. Now the band rested on his chest, a reminder of a dear friend and the promise that one day it would be more than Paul’s ring. He gathered Riley into his arms and held her tight as the last of his defenses crumbled and turned to dust.

  THIRTY-THREE

  People began to gather in the heart of Demon Central just after dark. Atlanta was no different than any other town—they loved to see other folks making fools of themselves. From what Beck could tell, the swelling crowd fell into three distinct camps: the cautious, the hecklers, and the true believers. He belonged with the first group, curious how one guy, in this case Reverend Lopez, was supposed to exorcise every single demon in the entire city at the same time. Just how would that happen? Where would they go?

  “What do you think about this?” he asked, looking over at Jackson.

  His fellow trapper shrugged. “Part of me would love to have it work. The other part of me is thinking about the mortgage payment I have due in a couple of weeks.”

  Beck understood. No demons meant no need for demon trappers.

  They were waiting in one of the largest open sections in the heart of Five Points. As usual, it was ringed with trash, dumpsters and some scrap metal. Folks didn’t try to collect it, what with the Threes on the prowl, but tonight might be a different story. Strength in numbers and all that.

  Lightweight fencing had been set up as a barricade to keep the crowd at bay. Inside the fence was the A-list crowd—a few local church leaders, someone from the mayor’s office, and other dignitaries. They might think Reverend Lopez’s demon-exorcising plan was a load of crap, but if it worked they wanted to be the first to sing his praises in front of the news cameras.

  Beck had already spied Justine who would always be in the middle of anything that made news. They traded nods but nothing more. Now, as he studied her, he realized she’d helped him find a future with Riley, even if it had been totally self-serving on her part. Not that he was going to thank her or anything.

  A few off-duty cops milled around to keep the peace. Sprinkled among the crowd were most of the Atlanta Guild, at least those who weren’t recuperating from the Oakland Cemetery battle: Simon, Reynolds, McGuire, Remmers, and a few of the others. Each had a weapon, usually a steel pipe or a sword wrapped in some sort of covering to not spook the locals.

  The magical folks were well represented. Mort stood next to Ayden and they were laughing about something. Nearby was none other than Lord Ozymandias, clad in his black cloak and leaning on his staff. Though Beck detested the bastard for what he’d done to Paul, he was pleased they had serious magical backup.

  He saw Riley weaving her way toward him and the unrestrained love they’d shared this afternoon sang like a vibrant chord between them. He had put his soul on the line for her, but then she’d done the same for him. As she moved closer, she paused near the magic users, collecting hugs from both Ayden and Mort. Beck could tell the moment she noticed Ozymandias—her body stiffened. The summoner inclined his head and then looked away.

  She joined Beck a short time later. After greeting Jackson, she whispered, “What is Ozy doing here?”

  “Just watchin’ our backs in case Hell accepts this invitation.”

  To distract her, he slipped his hand around her waist and dropped a kiss on her cheek. Her skin was unnaturally warm, though it hadn’t been that way this afternoon.

  “You okay?” he asked, concerned.

  A slight shake of the head. “It’s like I’ve got a fever. It started about an hour ago.”

  Someone called out Riley’s name and she turned to find Peter walking toward her. Her friend wore a hundred-watt smile, like he’d won the lottery. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  He ignored her sharp tone. “I wanted to see the Demonland set and then whatever this exorcist dude is up to. Thought it’d be fun. I met Blaze, can you believe it? She’s ah-mazing.”

  “That’s all great, Peter, but you should go home . . . now.”

  “What? Why?” he asked, confused.

  Before she could answer, a cheer went up as a man in a dark suit crossed the open space and climbed onto a makeshift stage. The exorcist had arrived. It was the first time Riley had seen Reverend Lopez and she had to admit he cut a commanding figure. At a little over six feet tall, he wore a black suit, his dark hair was perfectly styled, and in his hand was a worn Bible. Just his presence told her that if anyone could cast out Hellspawn, this would be the guy to do it.

  “Atlanta!” he called out. “Tonight, I will save you from eternal damnation. I’m not here to negotiate with Hell. I’m here to kick Lucifer and his servants out of this city.”

  There was a throaty cheer from behind the fencing.

  “This sounds like a revival to me,” Beck said.

  The exorcist waved his hands to quiet the crowd’s enthusiasm. “Now I’ve heard that some of you think I’m crazy, but I’ll prove that Heaven can exist here on earth. But first, let’s have a prayer.”