“Quit being childish,” he snapped. “I came to offer you a deal.”

  “A deal with the devil? Hmm, let me think.” Chavez tapped his fingernail against his chin. “No.”

  “Don’t be so hasty. The end is here. Demons are pouring out of hell even as we speak. You’re the only chance the human race has got.”

  “Why me?” he asked.

  “As you said—I like you. Always have. When I was inside you for that brief time, I felt at home.”

  “Fuck you,” Chavez snarled. “I cast you out. And you aren’t getting back in.”

  He yanked a cigarette from his pants and hurriedly lit the end. His hand shook, causing the devil to smirk and me to take a single step closer. I might want to stick a sharp implement repeatedly into Chavez’s eye, but I wasn’t going to let Satan hurt him.

  “What is he talking about?” I asked. “I thought you were possessed by a demon.”

  “He’s the father of all demons. In every one lies a little of him.”

  “You’re more like me than you want to believe,” Satan whispered. “That’s why you’re so good at killing us. You can smell evil a mile away, can’t you?”

  Chavez took a deep drag and blew the smoke in the other man’s face. Instead of coughing, the devil inhaled it like ambrosia.

  “That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “Here’s the deal, if you can kill everything I’ve released before the end of the world, I’ll call off the apocalypse. It’ll be like a video game, except real.”

  “Since when is he in charge of the apocalypse?” I asked.

  Neither one of them answered.

  “When’s the end of the world?” Chavez took another drag.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  Now who was being childish?

  “What happens if I lose?”

  “You know.”

  The devil began to laugh again, then he disappeared.

  I stared at the place where he’d been for several seconds before I lifted my gaze to Chavez. “What happens?”

  “He gets my soul.”

  Ask a stupid question…

  Chavez began to gather his clothes.

  “You’re going?”

  “You heard him. I don’t have much time.”

  “Or maybe you have plenty. No one knows when the end of days actually is. And what if he just decides to finish things when there’s only one demon left to down?”

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “How does it work?”

  “There is an end of time, except no one’s been able to figure out the exact date. There are a lot of theories.”

  “The apocalypse is a Christian belief, and not all Christians believe it.”

  “Not believing it doesn’t make it any less real.”

  “Sixty-seven percent of the world isn’t Christian,” I pointed out.

  “Where do you get all this information?” Chavez asked.

  “I like trivia.”

  “I like smart women.”

  I narrowed my eyes and he went on.

  “Satan does come out of the Christian legends, but remember…all religions believe in good and evil. Just because he isn’t called Satan doesn’t make him any less the leader of the underworld. You saw him. He’s real.”

  “Which makes the apocalypse real?”

  “Even if he’s lying, it won’t hurt to kill all the demons. It’s win-win.”

  “Unless you lose.”

  “Someone’s got to do it.”

  Quickly he dressed, then it was time to say good-bye. I didn’t want to.

  What I’d felt for Chavez had been genuine even if what he’d pretended had been…pretend.

  “You must have found my last request”—I sighed and turned away—“hysterical.”

  “I found it flattering.” He inched in front of me. “And arousing.”

  “As well as convenient.”

  “Kit—”

  “You were going to seduce me.” I shrugged. “You didn’t have to.”

  He took a breath as if to speak, and I lifted my hand to stop him. I’d had an epiphany. They didn’t happen often, but when they did I listened.

  “It doesn’t matter if you knew or you didn’t. You saved my life.”

  My anger had faded. Chavez did what he had to do for the greater good. I didn’t like what he’d done to me—

  That was a lie. I’d liked it a lot.

  I couldn’t throw stones. I’d slept with him when I thought he planned to kill me. The ultimate one-night stand. I’d sworn to hold out for true love—then at the first sign of an apocalypse I’d thrown away my vow for a good time.

  That I’d discovered I loved him later did not excuse me in the least.

  I couldn’t stay angry with him when he’d only done what I asked—and what was absolutely necessary.

  “Do your job,” I said. “Save the world.”

  His gaze softened. My stomach flip-flopped. I couldn’t believe I was giving him up, but then I didn’t have much choice, either.

  “I knew you were special from the beginning,” he murmured. “Can I have a kiss good-bye?”

  “You can have two.”

  The kiss and the one that followed were everything I’d ever dreamed of in a farewell embrace—the heat of lust, the gentleness in caring. My eyes stung, and I fought not to let the tears fall. He had to go, and I had to let him.

  Chavez lifted his head. “If the world wasn’t about to end—”

  I put my fingers over his lips. “But it is.”

  “Yeah.” He stepped back; I clung just a little. “If the world doesn’t end…

  “Give me a call.”

  He never would. A guy like him, a girl like me—heat of the moment and all that. As soon as I was out of sight, I’d be out of mind. But it sounded good—as if I didn’t care, as if I weren’t dying inside.

  “Hasta luego, chica.”

  The tears were blinding me. I wiped them away, but he was already gone.

  The snick of my apartment door closing echoed in the suddenly silent room. I was alone again.

  Just me and my big fat boring life.

  11

  My life didn’t get any better. Without Chavez in it—there was nothing worth getting up for.

  I’d never liked my job. Now I loathed it. What good was trying to sell books to people who were only promoted for paying far less than what they were worth? What good was any job when the world was about to end?

  I drifted, waiting for something to happen, but I wasn’t sure what.

  Three months later, I was still waiting. I fell asleep late one night while reading a manuscript. Just another Saturday and I didn’t have anybody.

  Because I didn’t want anybody but him.

  I dreamed of Chavez all the time, and in my dreams he was with me. His touch gentle, his eyes full of love. Definitely a fantasy, but all I had.

  “Kit. Wake up.”

  His voice sounded so close. His fingers were so warm as he removed my glasses. I fought against sleep and opened my eyes.

  “Hey, chica.”

  I closed them again, squeezed tight, and tried once more. He was blurry, but he was here.

  I struggled upright, and manuscript pages spilled from my lap, cascading onto the floor. I let them go. “Is the world saved?”

  Chavez shook his head. He appeared tired, drained, defeated. Not the man who’d left on a quest only three months ago.

  “Why did you come?”

  He hesitated. “I—I need you.”

  “Okay.” I tangled my fingers with his and started for the bedroom. I’d take whatever I could get.

  “No!” He snatched his hand away. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “I—I’ve seen some terrible things. The world is a mess, Kit.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Through everything, I remembered you. You’re what kept me going.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I wanted to be sure, and I wanted him to be, too.

  “We had one night, Chavez. Manufactured intimacy in exchange for the death of evil—or at least one little piece of it.”

  “We had sex.”

  “I know.”

  “For me, it was more.”

  My eyes widened; my breath caught. I couldn’t speak. He didn’t seem to have that problem.

  “I was crazy for you from the first moment I saw you, but I couldn’t touch you. I had to—”

  “Protect me.” I smiled, and some of his tension eased. “You did. I’m safe now because of you and I’m grateful.”

  “I don’t want you to be grateful,” he growled.

  “What do you want me to be?”

  He glanced away and muttered, “Mine.”

  “Huh?”

  He took a deep breath and looked back. “I want you to be mine. I want to have someone, somewhere, who’s waiting for me. I’m sick of being alone and lonely. The only time I felt as if I belonged anywhere was when I was here with you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I love you. I can’t live without you. I hope you feel the same way.”

  I hesitated and his shoulders sagged. “I know a girl like you and a guy like me—you probably forgot about me the instant I walked out that door.”

  I let a small laugh escape. “You’re kind of unforgettable.”

  Hope lit his eyes. I didn’t want that hope to die.

  “I love you, too, Zac.”

  He smiled at my use of his name. For him, the gift of his name went deeper than the gift of his body.

  “My life without you isn’t much of a life. I hate it here when being here means I’m not with you. I want to help you save the world.”

  Chavez shook his head so hard his hair flew and his earring caught the lamplight and flashed bright sparks into my eyes. “I won’t let you risk yourself.”

  “But you can risk yourself?”

  “I hunt demons. That’s what I do. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

  “Seems to me that the last demon took both of us to kill. Without me, you’d still be flailing around with your salt and your holy water and your sacramental wine.”

  His brow lifted. “Don’t forget the silver bullets.”

  “How could I when they worked so well?”

  His smile turned shy. “I was thinking—love has always been stronger than anything.”

  “I agree.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t so much the sex that killed that demon as the love.”

  “You could be right.”

  “So the more love we make—”

  “You don’t need an excuse, Zac.”

  “Then…?”

  “Together we fight; together we win or we don’t.”

  “You can’t fight,” Chavez scoffed.

  “I meant in a ‘pen is mightier than the sword’ kind of way.”

  “Research,” he said.

  I reached under the coffee table and pulled out a stack of papers that I’d written. “Without you here, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.”

  I offered them to him and his eyes wandered slowly over all that I’d learned, then lifted to mine. The excitement was back.

  “This is great, Kit.”

  “I told you I was good at trivia.”

  “This isn’t trivial.” His hands clenched on the papers. “This is world-saving.”

  My face heated at the praise and I ducked my head. He inched in close, put a finger to my chin, and lifted.

  “It’ll be dangerous,” he said.

  “You’ll protect me.”

  “I will.”

  His words were a promise, one that he kept.

  Did the world end?

  Not yet.

  About the Author

  LORI HANDELAND sold her first novel in 1993. Since then her books have spanned the contemporary, historical, and paranormal genres. Her novel, Blue Moon, won the RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America for Best Paranormal of 2004. Lori lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two teenage sons, and a yellow lab named Elwood.

  Visit her website at www.lorihandeland.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  An excerpt from the latest Rachel Morgan novel, The Undead Pool, on sale on February 25, 2014!

  Chapter 2

  The sun was a slow flash through Cincinnati’s buildings as I fought afternoon traffic headed for the bridge and the Hollows beyond. The interstate was clogged, and it was easier to simply settle in behind a truck in the far right lane and make slow and steady progress than to try and maintain the posted limit by weaving in and out of traffic.

  My radio was on, but it was all news and none of it good. The misfired charm at Trent’s facility wasn’t the only one this morning, and so far down on the drama scale that it hadn’t even been noticed, pushed out by the cooking class in intensive care for massive burns and the sudden collapse of a girder slamming through the roof of a coffeehouse and injuring three. The entire east side of the 71 corridor was a mess, making me think my sand-trap crater had been part of something bigger. Misfires weren’t that common, usually clustered by the batch and never linked only by space and time.

  Jenks was silent, a worried green dust hazing him as he rested on the rearview mirror. But when the story changed to a cleaning crew found dead, the apparent cause being brain damage from a sudden lack of fat in their bodies, I turned it off in horror.

  Jenks’s heels thumped the glass. “That’s nasty.”

  I nodded, anxious now to get home and turn on the news. But even as I tried not to think about how painful it would be to die from a sudden lack of brain tissue, my mind shifted. Was I really seeing what I thought I was in Trent, or was I simply projecting what I wanted? I mean, the man had everything but the freedom to be what he wanted. Why would he want . . . me? And yet, there it was, refusing to go away.

  Elbow on the open window as we crept forward, I twisted a curl around a finger. Even the press could tell there was something between us, but it wasn’t as if I could tell them it was the sharing of dangerous, well-kept secrets, not the familiarity of knowing if he wore boxers or briefs. I knew Trent had issues with what everyone expected him to be. I knew his days stretched long, especially now that Ceri was gone and Quen and the girls were splitting their time between Trent and Ellasbeth. But there were better ways to fill his time than to court political calamity by asking me to work security—me being good at it aside. We were going to have to talk about it and do the smart thing. For once, I was going to do the smart thing. So why does my gut hurt?

  “Rache!” Jenks yelled from the rearview mirror, and my attention jerked from the truck in front of me.

  “What!” I shouted back, startled. I wasn’t anywhere near to hitting it.

  Pixy dust, green and sour, sifted from him to vanish in the breeze. “For the fairy-farting third time, will you shift the air currents in this thing? The wind is tearing my wings to shreds.”

  Warming, I glanced at the dust leaking from the tear in his wing. “Sorry.” Rolling my window halfway up, I cracked the two back windows. Jenks resettled himself, his dust shifting to a more content yellow.

  “Thanks. Where were you?” he asked.

  “Ah,” I hedged. “My closet,” I lied. “I don’t know what to wear tonight.” Tonight. That would be a good time to bring it up. Trent would have three months to think about it.

  Jenks eyed me in distrust as a kid in a black convertible wove in and out of traffic, working his way up car length by car length. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Trent’s girls are coming back tomorrow, right?”

  The pixy knew when I lied. Apparently my aura shifted. “Yes,” I said, trying for flippant. “I can use the time off. Trent is more social than a fourteen-year-old living-vampire girl.” Though he could text just as fast.

  Jenks’s wings blurred. “No money for three months . . .”

  My grip on the wheel tightened, and I took the on-ramp for the bridge. “I’ve got your rent, pixy. Relax.”

  “Tink’s little pink rosebuds!” Jenks suddenly exploded, his wings blurring to invisibility. “Why don’t you just have sex with the man?”

  “Jenks!” I exclaimed, then hit the brakes and swerved when the kid in the convertible cut off the truck ahead of me. My tires popped gravel as I swung on the shoulder and back to the road again, but I was more embarrassed about what he’d said than mad at the jerk in the car. “It’s not like that.”

  “Yeah?” he said, a curious silver tint to his dust. “Watching you and Trent is like watching two kids who don’t know how their lips work yet. You like him.”

  “What’s not to like?” I grumbled, appreciating the thinner traffic on the bridge.

  “Yeah, but you thought you hated him last year. That means you reallylike him.”

  My hands were clenched, and I forced them to relax on the wheel. “Is there a point to this other than you talking about sex?”

  He swung his feet to thump on the rearview mirror. “No. That’s about it.”

  “The man is engaged,” I said, frustrated that my life was so transparent.

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “Well, he will be,” I shot back as the bridge girders made new shadows and Jenks’s dust glowed like a sunbeam. Will be again.

  Jenks snorted. “Yeah, he lives in Cincy, and she lives in Seattle. If he liked her, he’d let her move in with him.”

  “They’ve got a kid,” I said firmly. “Their marriage will solidify the East and West Coast elven clans. That’s what Trent wants. What everyone wants. It’s going to happen, and I’m not going to interfere.”

  “Ha!” he barked. “I knew you liked him. Besides, you don’t plan love, it just happens.”

  “Love!” Three cars ahead, horns blew and brake lights flashed. I slowed, anticipating trouble. “It’s not love.”

  “Lust, then,” Jenks said, seeming to think that was better than love anyway. “Why else would you explode that ball? A little overly protective, yes?”

  My elbow wedged itself against the window, and I dropped my head into my hand. Traffic had stopped, and I inched forward into a spot of sun. I was not in love. Or lust. And neither was Trent, despite that I’m-not-drunk kiss. He’d been alone and vulnerable, and so had I. But I couldn’t help but wonder if all the engagements this last month were normal or if he was trying to get out of the house. With me.Stop it, Rachel.