“It’s possible,” he agreed. “We can finish up here and then go back through all the Marks we’ve brought in in the past, and the ones that we didn’t get to first.”

  On the other end, Rory’s voice came through, though she must have been talking to Aston. “What about there? No, that file.”

  “Good eye, Sweets,” Aston told her. “Deeper encryption means hiding something important. I’ll just write in some hacking software in the background to attempt to get in the back door.”

  Gabby, undeterred, whispered, “Still hot, by the way.”

  “GABBY!” Liam yelped.

  Tinley couldn’t help but laugh, the tension rolling off her shoulders like water. Even with the city burning, even with the future hanging by a thread, they still had each other. Even if their group calls sounded like a dysfunctional family with relationship trust issues and unhealthy infatuations with tech skills, she knew every one of them would have her back, and she’d have theirs.

  As another firefighter staggered out with a coughing boy who looked to be around twelve years old, Tinley squeezed Crey’s hand, the heat of his palm a promise. “Let’s do this,” she said, dropping her voice. “We’ve got kids to save, and a little sister to find.”

  She hung up, the chaos of the call lingering in her ears, and stepped forward as the Mark was loaded onto a stretcher. Around her, the fog thickened, streetlights glimmered, and the world kept burning. But hope, too, burned bright and sharp and stubborn as ever. And somewhere in the shadows, the scent of scorched demon still lingered, a reminder that they had more than one foe they’d be facing in the coming battles.

  Across the street, the world burned, smoke churning, sirens screaming, the night thick with the scent of melting plastic and singed hope. In the alley’s mouth, shadows pressed close, sticky and alive. Maris pressed her back to cold, graffiti-scrawled brick, the damp seeping through her jacket. Above them, a busted streetlamp flickered, buzzing like a dying fly.

  She scanned the fog, heart beating, not with fear, but with the kind of hungry anticipation that always came before chaos. Next to her, Joel—tall, sharp-featured, and reeking of old money and fresh sin–watched the soul bonded with a predator’s patience. His green eyes caught every movement, glinting orange in the firelight. On the air, Maris pulled any sound to carry to her, and though she could have dissipated the fog since air was her element, she didn’t want to give away their presence to the light elementalists. So instead, she asked the wind to bring her their words.

  “You got all that?” Joel murmured, voice low and rough as gravel. His element was air as well, and he’d no doubt been doing the same.

  Maris nodded, tongue flicking over the edge of her teeth. “Aurora. That’s the key. Viscious is going to lose his mind. Something to tip the scales, no pun intended considering the dragons.”

  Joel grinned, but his gaze slid back to the chaos across the street, the children being carried out, limp and soot-streaked, the soul-bonded pairs ready to follow. “We could tail the Mark ourselves. Get in close. Make the first move.”

  A cold, oily wind wound around Maris’s ankles, carrying the stink of sulfur and something charred. She shuddered, half from the chill, half from the memory of what happened the last time she’d underestimated a Mark’s guardians. “Or we go straight to Viscious with this. He’ll want to make the call himself. Besides, you saw how those soul bonded fried the last batch of demons that got too close. There’s eight of them and two of us.” She hadn’t expected them to travel in such a large group, considering more often than not it was only one elementalist per Mark. The demons weren’t a big surprise. The news of the gate to the underworld being opened traveled fast, and apparently, demons traveled even faster. Things had gone to a complete crapshoot overnight, and now here they were, trying to choose whatever would get them in less trouble with the dark fire king.

  As if summoned by her words, a sudden skittering behind a trash can made Maris tense. She twisted, hand dropping to the dagger at her belt. Three smaller demons, the size of large dogs but twice as mean-looking, slithered into the alley. Their wiry bodies steamed in the chilly air, eyes boiling pits of red rimmed with crusted black. One opened its mouth, its voice like a dozen cockroaches hissing in chorus.

  “Lord Lucifer sends ussss. We are to assist the acolytes. We watch. We follow. We ssssserve.”

  The second demon, whose skin oozed with a greasy sheen, interrupted, “Serve? I do not serve. I lead. I am the clever one.”

  The third, distracted by a fluttering bit of burning paper, snapped at it, then crowed, “Fire! I like fire. Let’s burn them all, yes?”

  “Good grief, “ Maris muttered, “do they all act like evil toddlers in need of meds and maybe electroshock therapy?”

  Joel sneered. “They’re demons, what do you expect? Geniuses with manners?”

  She shrugged. “It would be a step up.”

  Joel just shook his head at her and then looked back at the hellions. “Nice timing. You little freaks want to be useful? Stick to the soul bonded. If any Mark leaves this site, you follow. Report straight to us. No improvising.”

  All three demons started to argue at once, tails lashing, claws scraping the brick.

  The clever one whined, “Why do I have to follow? Why not that one? He’s slow.” The fire-obsessed one was already pawing at a discarded lighter, muttering, “Burn, burn, burn–”

  Maris rolled her eyes. “Stow it! You’ll do as told, or you’ll answer to Viscious. Not to mention, I doubt your lord would be happy with you if you don’t follow through on his orders.”

  The leader demon’s tail lashed the asphalt, leaving a scorch mark. “We will not fail, masterssss. But if I see a chance for fun . . . ” He snapped his teeth, a threat and a promise all at once.

  “Let them have their fun,” Maris muttered to Joel, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “If Lucifer wants them here, there’s not anything we can do to stop him. Let him deal with the mess.”

  For a split second, Maris hesitated. Itching for a fight and the need to gain victory over the light elementals, part of her wanted to stay. But the urgency of the news twisted in her gut, and if this was the sister of the dragonrider, then the fire king would want to know. “We go. You three,” she jabbed a finger at the demons, who were now bickering over who got to do the watching and who got to do the following, “stay put. Follow the Marks. Report back. No eating anyone.” She had no clue if demons actually ate people, but she wouldn’t put it past them.

  The clever one bared his teeth in a sulky grin. “Fine. We will watch. But if I get bored, I eat the slowest.”

  Okay, apparently they did eat people. Maris didn’t bother replying. She and Joel slipped deeper into the alley, shoes silent on the slick pavement. Behind them, the demons prowled to the mouth of the alley, eyes glinting as they watched the soul-bonded pairs with hungry, feral focus. Their argument faded into the night, a chorus of hisses, barks, and muttered threats, while the city’s heartbeat thumped, fast and frantic.

  She didn’t look back. She didn’t need to. The chaos was only just beginning, and for once, it might be glorious. Joel opened a portal and they stepped through. She took a deep breath, hoping they’d made the right decision.

  Viscious was unpredictable in his wrath and his mate was even worse.

  The castle Viscious had claimed for his latest stronghold wasn’t some idle retreat—it was a throne room for a king with conquest on his mind. Perched atop a jagged mountain wrapped in winter’s iron grip, it loomed over the world like a threat. The cold here was a living thing, gnawing at the bones of the ancient stone and rattling the glass in the arrow-slit windows. The air snapped with frost, thick with the scents of old blood, scorched cedar from the ever-burning hearths, and the acrid tang of burnt coffee—the bitter end of Lamia’s temper, the mug still shattered on the floor.

  Viscious relished the chill. Lately, he’d grown weary of feeling warm. Heat was lazy, decadent; this cold kept him sharp. It reminded him that comfort was for the conquered, not the conqueror. He stalked the room, not lounging, but prowling, boots ringing on centuries-old flagstone, eyes burning with anticipation. His black cloak whirled around him with every turn when he reversed directions. The world was shifting. The gate had been opened and resealed. Demons roamed, and he could practically hear Lucifer’s laughter echoing in the dark. Viscious’s acolytes had been unleashed to hunt Marks with ruthless efficiency. The light royals thought themselves clever, focused on their precious soul bonded. They wouldn’t see his strike coming.

  Lamia watched him from her favorite perch atop the armrest of a throne. She was every inch the tempest—hair swirling like storm clouds, a smirk playing on her lips as she toed a bone from the last summoning off the rug. “You’re pacing, darling. That means you’re either plotting genocide or you’re about to set the drapes on fire again.”

  Viscious grinned, his teeth catching the firelight. “Don’t tempt me. I picked this place because the wind is as mean as I am, and the cold keeps my mind sharp. There are many players on the board now, and I imagine, with the true lord of the underworld back in power, some will be undecided about their alliance. They are waiting for a sign. The elemental world is waiting for a spark. I intend to be the one who gives it to them. On my terms.”

  A ripple of magic sliced the air, cold and sharp as shattered ice. The portal’s birth was violent–a shriek of wind, a flash of sickly green light. Maris and Joel tumbled out, reeking of city smoke, demon musk, and fear. The portal snapped shut behind them with a sound like the world biting down.

  Viscious’s eyes narrowed, hunger and expectation flaring. “Where are my Marks? Where is my proof that you are more than wasted oxygen?”

  Maris bowed, her voice small against the thunder of his presence. “Forgive us, Lord Viscious.”

  Joel tried to vanish into the shadows, but there was nowhere safe from Viscious’s gaze.

  He stalked closer, heat rolling off him in waves. “You are my hands in this world. If you bring me nothing but excuses, I’ll snap you in half and use your bones to roast marshmallows. Speak.”

  Maris’s words tumbled out, desperate to please. “We have news. Not a Mark, but something bigger. The female dragonrider, the one who, the girl that, she,” Maris stumbled over her words as if she’d just learned to speak.

  “Good grief, don’t hurt yourself,” Lamia chided, a smirk playing on her beautiful face. She loved to taunt the acolytes who were afraid of breathing around them.

  “Rory,” Viscious snapped. “The female’s name is Rory.”

  “Yes,” Maris nodded quickly. She took several breaths and pulled her shoulders back, raising her chin–perhaps realizing that she was acting ridiculous and as a dark elementalist should have a little more backbone than a simpering fool. “She has a sister. Aurora. Apparently, she would have been too young to have been able to be a Mark when their parents died. But now, she might be the perfect age. Unmarked. Unclaimed. They’re searching for her.”

  Lamia’s laugh was low, dangerous. “A soul that pure . . . ripe for the taking. If we claim her–”

  “We will not just claim her,” Viscious interrupted, his eyes blazing, every muscle coiled with energy. “We will make her the instrument of their ruin. Hope is brittle. I will turn it to ash.” Not only would this be detrimental to dragons because of the dragon bonded, who would most likely do anything to get her sister back, but it was the perfect opportunity to call in that favor he was owed.

  He circled the acolytes, firelight flickering over the room and providing some heat, but not enough to chase away the chill. “How did you learn this? No slip-ups, no gaps. I want it all.”

  Maris, the one of the pair who had decided she wanted to prove herself and not be a simpering fool, replied, “The air elementals were watching the same burning building we were. They got a phone call while waiting for any surviving children to be brought out, and the voices traveled on the air to me. And,” she paused, her eyes darting to Joel, and then back to Viscious.

  “And?” Viscious questioned, his voice low and threatening.

  “Demons showed up.” Maris continued. “The light elementalists dispatched some of them. Three others made themselves known to us. Said Lucifer sent them. He’s . . . awake, Master. They offered to help.”

  That sent a delicious shiver down his spine. Some might fear having the true ruler of the underworld free of his chains, but not Viscious. The world was tilting, finally, gloriously out of balance. “Lucifer’s out of his cage? Good. I want chaos. I want the light’s foundations shattered. Did the demons say what he wants, or were they too busy gnawing on their own tails?”

  Joel, trying to disappear again, muttered, “They’re . . . unpredictable, like toddlers hyped up on too much sugar. Argued a lot. One actually tried to set a firefighter on fire. They said Lucifer has instructed them to help the dark elementals.”

  Viscious’s smile was all hunger. “Perfect. The world is finally waking up. And it’s ours for the taking.” He wasn’t a fool–he was sure that the lord of the underworld had his own agenda–but that didn’t mean he would succeed or that Viscious would pick a fight with him while he was trying to beat the light elementals. That didn’t mean Viscious wouldn’t pay attention.

  He stalked to the window, staring out at the storm. “Bring me a demon. I want to hear from Hell’s mouth what Lucifer plans. Leave the Aurora situation to me.” He rubbed his hands together and chuckled. He didn’t voice it aloud to the two acolytes he’d trust with this information. But, he was about to tear the soul bonded apart from the inside using the young pharaoh. There were fewer things as painful as betrayal from a friend.

  He turned, fire crackling in his eyes. “Why are you two still here? Move. The age of waiting is over. It’s time for the world to burn, and I will fan the flames myself.” He opened a portal and the acolytes scrambled through it.

  When it was closed, Lamia walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. “What are you planning in that diabolical mind?”

  “You will enjoy it so much more if I make it a surprise for you.” He reached up and stroked her face. “Good things come to those who wait.”

  “You know I hate waiting,” she pouted.

  “Yes, but I promise you, this will be worth it.” Viscious reached out through darkness, seeking out a certain someones fire. Ra. The fire elementalist might not be an acolyte, but as Viscious had told him when they’d met about Ra’s request, there was darkness that lived in him. And it was enough that the dark fire king could connect to the baby king. Ra might not have technically made a deal with Viscious, but he’d told the pharaoh if he didn’t accept the deal, Viscious would kill him. He’d been biding his time on the killing part, waiting to see how things would play out. Now he had an opportunity to use Ra, and, because he was so generous, he’d let him live. “I did not forget about you, Ra. And now, it is time, pharaoh. I can kill you, or we can strike a new bargain. Meet me tonight. If you do not show, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and you will pay for ignoring my first offer.” He told him where to meet him and then waited.

  It was less than a minute when Ra responded.“I will be there.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “I promise. Two words that to most people simply mean ‘if I can, then I most likely will.’ And even then, it’s only if it’s not an inconvenience to them. But to me, ‘I promise’ is binding. There is no changing my mind. There is no deciding that the promise was something more than I could give. It is absolute. Which is why I so rarely use those words. I don't throw them around carelessly. But sometimes, I simply have no other choice than to make such a vow, no matter the price.” ~ Ra

  Ra felt the tug in his chest before he heard the echo of Viscious’s voice. He sucked in a deep breath as he felt the darkness that lived in him, rose up to meet that of the dark fire king’s. A pull, like a burning hook, threaded through him, yanking him from the edge of peace and plunging him into a storm. It was the kind of magic that left an aftertaste: bitter, metallic, with the oily residue of someone else's will. He forced his face to remain unchanged regardless of the fact that he was shocked to hear the dark fire king’s voice in his mind. But the surprise only lasted for a moment. What was more important was the fact that he knew he had no choice but to meet him. If Ra didnt’ want to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life, he’d have to hear what Viscious had to say.

  In the hour since Aston’s call, the dragon realm’s headquarters, a portion of the cave that had been turned into tech central, had been a hive of frenetic energy: Aston rapid-fire typing, Rory pacing and muttering, Gabby and Liam verbally and physically sparring (because she was finding too much glee in riling him up about Aston’s geeky hotness), Shelly’s laughter floating above it all like sunlight on water, Tara attempting to control her best friend, and Elias planning the order in which they would carry out the searches for Aurora. But Ra felt none of it. Not truly. He was too aware of the compulsion blooming just beneath his skin.

  Ra stood off to the side, a blue glow from several computer screens filling the room, along with the fire sconces on the walls and the fire in the hearth. It was warm, despite the cold winter air just outside. His eyes were planted firmly on the floor as he considered what he needed to do. He glanced at his phone, and saw the time, he didn’t have long before he would have to leave.

  Without saying a word, Ra slipped out of the main room and headed down one of the short halls that would take him to the private space he shared with his soul bonded. The cool air smelled of minerals and the faint, ever-present tang of dragon magic. Every sound seemed sharper, every heartbeat louder. He needed space. He needed to breathe without the weight of family and fate pressing down on him.