“I think it’s me. The demon went out of its way to ignore Ori.”

  “I wondered when this was gonna happen.”

  That confused him. “Why would they go to that kind of effort over me?”

  The master shook his head. “Oh, lad, ya’ve no idea how much ya’ve annoyed them. Heaven made a special effort ta keep ya from dyin’ from those demon wounds, so Hell retaliated by sendin’ Sartael after ya. But ya didn’t oblige them by losin’ yer soul ta that Fallen. If that wasn’t enough, ya became an exorcist, and a damned fine one at that. I’m not surprised yer on Hell’s hit list.”

  “Well, at least I’m in good company,” Simon muttered.

  “That’s for damned sure. Now what do ya wanna know because I’m thinkin’—”

  The sound of steps in the hallway brought the conversation to a halt. Katia stopped at the kitchen door, her hair damp, clean clothes hanging from her thin frame. She looked at Simon first, then Stewart. Then her eyes came to rest on the plate in front of them.

  “Ah, there ya are, lass. Come on, have some lemon bars. Mrs. Ayers is particularly good at those.”

  Katia joined them at the table, then took a bar and placed it carefully on a napkin as if it was a precious treasure.

  Stewart raised an eyebrow. “Ya can’t eat only one or I’ll be havin’ ta answer ta my housekeeper. She’ll fret if there are any left when she gets back from the shoppin’.”

  Katia took two more bars.

  “That’s better.” The grand master turned his attention back to Simon. “What are the parameters of this . . . deal ya have with the demon?”

  “No help can come from Riley, Beck, any of the grand masters. Or the Fallen.”

  Stewart shifted his eyes to Katia. “But this lass isn’t included in that list?” Simon shook his head. “Ya willin’ ta watch his back?”

  “If he watches mine,” she said.

  “As long as you don’t do anything that compromises my exorcisms, I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” Simon replied.

  She scrutinized him for a time, then nodded. It seemed that gesture had cost her in some way.

  “Trust issues,” Stewart said. “Always happens when ya first form a new partnership.” He eyed Simon. “That demon will continue ta press ya, tryin’ ta gain more concessions because it knows ya’ll do anythin’ ta keep those kids safe. Ya have power on yer side—it can’t shake yer faith—but yer limited as ta what ya can do outside of an exorcism.”

  He looked over at Katia now. “This lass is yer wild card. She’s not constrained by the bargain ya made, and that makes her a perfect weapon against the fiend. But at all times, ya must make sure she is safe from harm. Ya ken?”

  Both of them nodded.

  “Plan on Hell playin’ dirty. Now’s the time ta do the same, even though it will chafe yer sense of honor. It’s not just three souls on the line. Remember that.”

  “I know,” Simon murmured.

  That was what frightened him more than dying at the hands of a demon. He knew what that felt like, and if Riley hadn’t agreed to Heaven’s bargain his family would be laying flowers on his grave every week, mourning for the loss of their son, their brother, their uncle.

  This time he’d have to bend the Vatican’s rules and it might cost him the job that eased his guilt and let him sleep at night. Now only those kids mattered. And his new partner, who Heaven, for whatever reason, had sent to help him. Simon’s eyes met Katia’s and hers immediately shifted away. There were mysteries there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tackle them right now.

  “What’s yer next move?” Stewart asked.

  “Not sure. The demon could be anywhere in the city and I have no idea where to find it.” An admission that made his heart ache.

  “It’ll find ya, have no doubt. It thinks it’s got ya on its leash and so it’ll enjoy makin’ ya sweat. They’re hellishly good at that.”

  “It said it’d be sending other fiends my way. I . . . we have to deal with them and then we’ll finally confront the big one.”

  He’d just finished his last bar when a guttural voice shouted in his head. He winced at the pain, and at the message.

  “Are ya alright, lad?”

  Simon nodded, trying to clear the roar in his head. “The demon said my first test begins now. It’s told me where we need to be.”

  They all rose from the table.

  “Let me know how it’s goin’. I can’t help directly, but there’s a lot a grand master can do behind the scenes,” Stewart offered.

  “Will do.”

  Even as they headed for the front door, Simon couldn’t help but notice that Katia had wrapped two more lemon bars in her napkin and stuck them in her trapping bag. There was a story there, and if they were lucky, he’d live long enough to hear it.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  Ori was known for being stealthy, a skill he’d needed to track and kill any Hellspawn his former master deemed a threat. Still, when he’d taunted Heaven’s bloodhound about keeping up with him, he had meant just the opposite. The sooner he lost the other angel, the better.

  Looking back, he should have realized something like this would happen after his unexpected resurrection from the dead. He knew that whole “Oh look, he’s alive again!” surprise had infuriated the Prince because resurrection wasn’t in Lucifer’s skillset. Only their Creator had that power.

  His former master had thought Ori out of the way forever, his essence, his very soul, trapped in that gargoyle on the top of the Blackthorne mausoleum. In the Prince’s truly twisted fashion he’d made sure that statue faced the sunrise, because he knew that would torture the trapped soul within.

  You could always count on Lucifer being a total bastard.

  When Ori had found himself freed from his stone prison, naked, shaking, and furious at being alive again, he’d known that his Creator had returned him to the living for some purpose. It hadn’t taken him long to figure it out: Heaven needed an executioner to kill a rogue angel, and who better than the Fallen who’d honed his deadly skills in the service of Hell?

  Ori had always thought he’d die during his battle with The Destroyer, but for some reason he hadn’t. He’d bet Heaven had thought the same, and now they had the problem of an unaligned Divine, one who had his own agenda. Because he’d be damned a second time before he joined up with either crew.

  His demand for independence was why he now rated an Observer who was entirely too persistent. Only a few seconds after he appeared near what the mortals called Terminus Market, at the site where he’d once saved Riley Anora Blackthorne’s life, his shadow appeared next to him. Ori eyed her, wondering how she was able to find him so easily. Of course, she was still clad in the same garment, her wings tucked up next to her body.

  “Wearing a white robe here is not a good idea,” he warned. “Especially not with your wings visible. The last angel who did that came to destroy the city. These mortals have long memories.”

  It took Serrah a moment to make the connection to The Destroyer. With a frown, the wings slowly melted away, as did the robe, leaving behind slacks, T-shirt and shoes. They were still stark white.

  Ori rolled his eyes. “Can you be any more obvious?”

  The angel scowled in response. “Can you?” she said, gesturing toward his solid black clothes.

  “Let me help.” He thought for a moment, and then with a swiping motion, lettering appeared on her T-shirt.

  Heaven for Climate

  Hell for Company

  That earned him a deep frown. Apparently, she’d never heard of Mark Twain.

  “That’s the problem with the Upper Realm—you have no sense of humor,” Ori muttered, then turned away. Neither had he until he’d spent time with the mortals.

  “Why are we here?” she asked, still frowning.

  “I’m trying to track a particular demon. He has tempted a righteous man and I want to ensure we do not lose the exorcist because of it.”

  “Simon Michael David Adler,” she said, quietly.

  Which told him she wasn’t as clueless as she appeared.

  “Are you here because of him as well?” he asked.

  No reply.

  “He did not intentionally make a bargain with the fiend, but Azagar will try to twist the situation to claim Simon’s soul if he is not careful. I will not let that happen.”

  “You cannot interfere,” the angel said.

  Yes, it did appear this one knew a lot more than he’d thought.

  “But you can.”

  “What? No, I dare not.”

  “Of course, you can. The fiend did not name you. In fact, I doubt Azagar even knows you are here in the city. That means you can help me keep Simon alive, and then he can save the three young mortals who are in the demon’s claws.”

  “Why do you do this?”

  “This?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Track Hellspawn. You are Fallen.”

  “My mission is to do everything I can to ruin Lucifer’s infernal plans.” He glared at her. “This is personal now.”

  “All because he let you die?” Serrah asked.

  “All because . . . ” He hesitated, unable to admit the truth, even to himself. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Ori heard the cry for help even before it had been vocalized. Swiveling, he looked into the distance, seeing the danger and knowing what it meant.

  “Azagar has begun. Come, it’s time to earn those wings of yours.”

  The two angels vanished at the same time.

  SIX

  After Simon had announced their destination was a daycare center, Katia’s mind had conjured up bloody images of what they might find there. When she’d voiced her fears, he shook his head.

  “It’ll want me there before it hurts anyone.”

  To her relief, he’d been right. The Hellspawn was outside, near the playground, though that’s where the good news ended. Just as they got out of the car, the demon, one of the ravenous Gastro-Fiends, trapped a group of tiny, terrified kids and a young woman against a tall fence. The only thing standing between them and a savage death was a young man, armed with a red plastic baseball bat. The mind-numbing terror on his face struck Katia like a body blow.

  “That isn’t the demon from this morning,” Simon said. He clicked the remote to open the trunk. “Unless it’s one of the higher fiends and it’s mimicking a Three.”

  Katia concentrated on the Hellspawn, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think that’s the case. I can usually tell.” Simon’s eyebrow rose at this observation.

  As the Three continued to howl, he grabbed his trapping bag, and one of the wire mesh bags they’d need to secure the fiend once it’d been trapped. The metal must have been hot as he held it by the leather straps at the top. He dropped it in front of the car as Katia joined him, her own trapping bag in hand.

  “What’s the plan?” she asked.

  “Since I don’t use chicken guts for my exorcisms, we’ll need to distract this thing somehow.” He handed her a Holy Water sphere from his trapping bag. “I’ll set a ward to keep the innocents safe. Can you buy me some time to get in place?”

  “Sure. I’ll play bait.”

  He gave her a quick frown. “Don’t get hurt doing it, you hear me?”

  His concern sounded genuine. “I’ll be careful.”

  The playground was enclosed with a tall metal chain link fence designed to keep the children out of harm’s way. Now it just hemmed them in with a monster who had no doubt clawed its way up the barrier and jumped inside.

  Unless Katia did the same the only way in was through a gate. Careful not to spook the fiend, she moved to the entry. Once there, she dug for her folding knife, stuck it in her jeans pocket, then retrieved her steel pipe. If she could hit the fiend with the Holy Water sphere, it’d give Simon time to set the ward.

  “I’m ready,” he said from behind her. A quick glance showed the exorcist was armed with a pipe, as well. Something liquid glistened on his forehead.

  The plan was immediately jeopardized by a numeric keypad, one strategically placed far above toddler height. Katia gave a test pull on the gate—no go. “Code! What’s the code?” she shouted, hoping someone would help her. The result was the gate swinging open on its own accord.

  “Thank you!” she called out, though she wasn’t entirely sure who she was thanking. Stepping inside the enclosure, Katia moved away from a nearby picnic table, and then began to drag her steel pipe against the metal fence. As she’d hoped, the noise was loud, immediately gaining the fiend’s attention. She’d seen Master Blackthorne use this tactic in a video, and it seemed to work now.

  About four feet tall, this Three’s fur was a mangy yellow and its stench fouled the air. It was an older one with the double rows of razor-sharp teeth. That meant it’d be faster and probably smarter.

  “Hey, ugly. You know who I am?” she called out, continuing to make a racket with the pipe.

  The fiend eyed her, and the drool increased at the corners of its mouth. “Foooood!” it cried.

  “That’s right.” she said. “I’m nice and tasty. How’s about you and I play?”

  The Three took a step in her direction, then swung back toward the kids when one of them began to wail. The young man with the bat waved it back and forth, as if it were capable of stopping this killing machine. His companion stood in front of the kids, shielding them as best she could. Both would die unless Katia could get the demon to take the bait.

  “Damn, damn, damn!” Katia jammed her pipe in the back of her jeans and then pulled the knife free. Popping the blade, she took a deep breath, sliced through the sleeve of her shirt, opening a slit on her left arm. Blood welled, running free. She wiped the knife on her jeans, collapsed it and then jammed it in her pocket as she waved her injured limb in the air.

  “Smell that, demon? It’s lunchtime! Come and get it!”

  The fiend whirled back, its nose inhaling the enticing scent. Despite the crying child, her blood proved a stronger lure.

  “Come on, you miserable bag of stench!” she called, shaking drops of blood from the wound.

  “Chewwww your bones!” it shouted, and then charged straight toward her.

  As the demon headed for Katia, Simon climbed over the fence behind the trapped children, his steel pipe tucked under an arm. Once he was on the ground, he sprinted in front of the captives. The guy with the bat was so startled by Simon’s appearance, he swung at him. Fortunately, he missed.

  “Get back with the kids!” Simon ordered. “Go!”

  Even as he issued the order, he touched the Holy Water on his forehead, then bent down to touch the concrete, intoning a prayer as he raised a Holy Water ward, one larger than usual. To his relief, it immediately shimmered into existence around them, shielding not only the toddlers, but the two aides.

  “What . . . what is that?” the woman called out.

  “It’s Holy Water. You’re safe from the demon. Just stay inside the circle!”

  Both adults nodded, then huddled with the kids as their frightened cries grew louder.

  With a prayer on his lips, Simon carefully exited the circle, feeling the tug of its power as he did so. The moment he left the ward, he took off at a run toward the battling pair. The demon had already reached Katia, slashing at her, trying to get around the steel pipe to hook its claws into her skin and draw her to her death. Snarls filled the air as she ducked its wicked swipes and landed a few brutal blows of her own.

  “Demon!” Simon shouted, raising his own pipe.

  The thing whirled, belatedly realizing it had enemies on both sides now.

  “Betrayer!” it bellowed in return, then slashed at him. Katia didn’t hesitate, slamming her pipe into its skull from behind. As it tottered on its feet, Simon delivered the second blow, which spun the Three around and sent it into a heap on the ground.

  Even as the thing rolled onto its back, Katia smashed a Holy Water sphere directly into its face. It flailed, then grew still, its chest rising and falling in jerks.

  “Well done,” a voice said.

  Simon swung around to find Ori standing just beyond the fence. Next to him was a young woman clothed all in white.

  “Great, another one,” Katia muttered. At Simon’s puzzled look, she pointed at Ori’s companion. “That’s an angel and she’s way brighter than the other one, in case that matters.”

  How could she know that?

  Katia eyed them. “Which of you opened the gate?”

  Ori angled his head toward the other Divine. “I could not interfere.”

  The angel in white studied Katia now, almost as if she were weighing her mortal soul. Then her eyes went to Simon for the same assessment. Finally, her attention strayed to the children and the glowing circle. The gate swung open on its own again. Then she joined the kids, walking right through the Holy Water barrier as if it didn’t exist.

  Kneeling in front of the children, the Divine held out her arms, murmuring something to them. One by one, they broke away from their guardians and ran to her. She encircled them, whispering quietly. The tears began to slow as little heads nodded at whatever she’d said to them.

  “What is she doing?” Katia asked.

  “Helping them forget the worst of this horror,” Ori replied. “If not, they will have nightmares for years.”

  Nightmares.

  Unbidden, memories returned: The screams of agony from that night at the Tabernacle when Simon had nearly died. The faces of the other trappers who had not survived. Ori’s eyes met his now, as if he knew exactly what had paraded through his mind.

  “Do you hate them as much as I do?” Simon asked quietly.

  “Yes. And their master even more,” was the solemn reply.

  He nodded, then turned away, a hand going to his abdomen as if he could still feel those claws ripping into him, hear the ominous click of the fiend’s fangs near his neck. Simon forced himself to look at the knot of toddlers. They’d stopped crying, their faces still wet with tears. A couple even had tentative smiles as the angel showed them a small blue bird where it rested on her palm. Where it’d come from, he had no idea, but their fear was slowly disappearing, one healing word after another.