Osiris managed a tired smile. “You’re wiser than I ever was.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Just more patient. And a little less afraid of the dark, now that I’m not facing it alone. We’ll let them sleep the rest of the night, although there are few things in life that give me joy like waking up Rory before she’s ready to get out of bed.”

  Osiris chuckled. “You two have an odd relationship.”

  “She’s got a thick outer shell, but once you get past it, she loves deeply. I know it’s killing her not to be the one going after her sister. This will give her something else to focus on.” She glanced down at her clothes. “When we go, could you give me something a little more appropriate?”

  “But you look so sexy.” He grinned.

  “Do you want Liam, Elias,—”

  He snapped his fingers before she could finish speaking, a frown marring his brow. “There.”

  Kimba laughed as she looked down and saw that he’d put her in pants, boots, and a shirt that went up to her neck, with long sleeves. It was form fitting, but she could tell she’d be able to move in it easily. “I suppose this will do.”

  “I could put you in a floor-length sack cloth,” he teased.

  “I don’t remember you being a jealous mate,” she told him as she pulled him back down to lay next to her.

  He let the vulnerability in him show, only for her. “It might take me some time to feel completely secure, in us. I don’t deserve you. But I’m not good enough to give you up, either.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t plan on letting you give me up. Now, I prefer not to sleep in boots, and I could use a few more hours of sleep. Could you help a lady out?”

  He snapped his fingers, and it wasn’t just the boots that disappeared. Her laughter filling the cave wrapped around him, warming him better than any fire could. Osiris vowed he’d spend the rest of his life making sure she laughed like that at least a few times a day. She deserved that kind of joy and more.

  CHAPTER 19

  “People think they go unnoticed in this world by evil. Little do they know that they are being watched. The more good they do, the more the evil wants them. The ones who are minding their own business and not bothering to help anyone, those people we don’t give a damn about.” ~ Lucifer

  “Her name is Aurora,” the little demon stuttered as he shivered, standing before Lucifer. He pictured drop-kicking him across the room just to hear the sniveling runt squeal, but then he wouldn’t get the information he needed.

  “Why is this Aurora important?” Lucifer asked, his voice sounding bored even to him. He was bored. Waiting on news, waiting on the next thing to happen was boring as hell. Which made no sense because hell should not be boring, not with all the torturing and wailing. But, alas, he was bored. No wonder Osiris had left. He felt his anger rise at the thought of his imposter thrown fillers name. Now that was a male he wanted to drop-kick, over and over again, after ripping his entrails from his body.

  “Quit stuttering,” Crecious’s voice interrupted Lucifer’s daydream. “How do you expect him to want to listen to you if you’re just spitting out words that don’t make sense?”

  The little demon glared at Crecious. Demons rarely got along. They were demons after all–selfish, power hungry, and well, evil. Evil wasn’t exactly agreeable.

  “The soul bonded speaks of her,” the little demon finally said without shaking quite so badly. “She is the sister of someones important, someones named Rory. And then I heards to the dark acolytes speak of her and they saids King Viscious would wants the girl. So I’s thoughts that if he would wants her, then maybes you would wants her.”

  Where did demons go to school, Lucifer asked himself as he watched the creepy little messenger. Or did they just come into existence not knowing how to use correct grammar? Crescious didn’t talk quite as badly–typically Lucifer could understand everything he said. But some of the others . . . he felt like he needed a damn interpreter, or that he was just getting dumber listening to them speak.

  “Viscious wants her?” he asked, not really speaking to the demon. His mind was turning as he considered this information, no matter how ill-explained it was. Lucifer made a decision and made a motion for the two demons to leave him. He heard a hiss and then the little demon say, “ous don’t have to poke me with yours tail.”

  Lucifer leaned back in his throne and closed his eyes. He’d tried this a couple of times and had been able to slip into Osiris’s mind, but this time he was going to look for information. It might work, or Osiris might sense Lucifer and block him.

  He let himself slip into a trance and drew magic and power from the underworld around him. He felt the leftover essence of Osiris and reached for that same thread through the gap that had been made in the gate. The darkness that had fled through the gate while it had been opened had left a fissure. It was small but it was enough. It gave Lucifer’s mind a path to follow, all the way to Osiris’s mind which was no longer in the underworld.

  He felt the wall and easily pushed past it. It didn’t take long, sifting through the soul-bonded king’s mind to find out who Aurora was. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he whispered, “You will never be free of this place. The darkness is absolute. It will cling to your soul for all eternity and you will forever fight the need to return. Enjoy your reprieve, false king; it won’t last.” He felt Osiris’s soul stir and slipped out of his mind before the king could wake.

  His eyes opened as he considered the information he’d learned about Aurora. A baby left in the world all by herself. More than likely she has a torn soul and doesn’t even know it. How could she? She probably has no clue about the magical world around her or how vulnerable she is, especially with his hellions on the loose. She needed a guide. She needed someone who could help her grow into her potential. Not Viscious, not Osiris and his mate or their merry band of do-gooders. No. Aurora needed someone powerful who could make her powerful. He smiled. “It’s a good thing I’m so generous. I can share all of my knowledge with her.” He tapped his chin and considered how he could get through to her. He needed a path to her mind. Lucifer continued to go over all of Osiris’s memories. Suddenly he slapped his thigh, “That’s it,” he exclaimed, causing the souls along the wailing wall to scream. “Ra. The baby pharaoh.” He was apparently going to elect himself Aurora’s protector or some shit. It just so happened that Lucifer had access to Ra’s ancestors, and by default, Ra.

  “RAMSES,” he roared knowing his voice would travel all throughout hell. “I need to see you. Now.” He rubbed his hands together as he stood from his throne and kicked a soul that was dragging himself on the floor, his head thrown back with a wail of agony. “Shut-up,” Lucifer snapped. “You’re interrupting my thinking.”

  Ten minutes later, which was ten minutes too long, Ramses walked into the throne room. He still looked every bit the king he had been when he’d been alive. Hell didn’t seem to affect the royals of the Egyptian line the same way it did the rest of his people.

  He turned as the air shifted behind him, heavy with ancient power. Ramses stepped from the gloom, his presence as regal and cold as ever, a king who had once commanded the Nile, who had bargained with gods and outlived them all. His eyes burned with secrets, with curses, with the pride of a lineage that would never truly die.

  “Lucifer.” Ramses’s voice was sand and steel, unbending, but Lucifer heard the tremor, the hunger that was never quite sated. “You summoned me.”

  Lucifer’s smile widened. He sat on a throne of shadow and bone, and gestured to the empty dais beside him. “Old friend. Old enemy. The line blurs, does it not? Sit. There is work to do.”

  Ramses remained standing, chin high. “I am no one’s servant.”

  Lucifer clucked his tongue at the once great king. “Perhaps not a servant, but you are not your own. Not anymore. You and the rest of your people gave up your freedom when you foolishly worshipped death. What did you think would happen when you revered the so-called god of the underworld? But that is neither here nor there.” He strode around Ramses in a wide arc, a lion circling his prey. “You have something I need, and since you really don’t have a choice, regardless of whether you think you are a servant or not, I will take what I need. Or you can give it willingly, and I won’t increase the suffering of your people. Your choice.”

  Ramses’s lips curled, half sneer, half challenge. “My people are forever trapped in hell. It is the epitome of suffering. They burn over and over again. There is nothing more you can do to them. So, you wish to use me. Why should I make it easy?”

  Lucifer let his power roll out, a suffocating wave that pressed on the pharaoh’s bones. “Because your descendant walks the world above, and through him, your legacy endures. Ra, the golden one, bearer of your blood, is close to the key I seek. He has made a bargain in order to keep from being sent here when he leaves the mortal world. Considering this is my domain, I control that bargain. I can easily make it go away. Poof,” he snapped his fingers. “Just like that. I need a conduit.”

  Ramses hesitated, pride and protection for his distant heir warring in his gaze. “And what do I gain? Ra might not spend eternity here, but me and my people do.”

  Lucifer circled until he was standing directly in front of Ramses, his form flickering between beautiful and monstrous, every angle both invitation and threat. “I will give you dominion here. Souls to command. A kingdom beneath the sand, as above. And should the gates open wide, you will be the first to walk the earth again, crowned in shadow and flame. Mind you, I cannot give you life, but I can let your soul out.” It was a load of crock. He was the devil, after all. What did his word mean? Nothing. Lying was his superpower. Dangling the carrot in front of the one willing to give everything away for something they think they want was Lucifer’s speciality. Along with masquerading as an angel of light. Figuratively speaking. He wouldn’t dare, actually, look like one of those ridiculous holy rollers.

  The pharaoh’s greed won, or maybe he honestly did think he was doing something for his people. But here, in his domain, Lucifer could see the motivation of the souls that belonged to him. It was not hidden–Ramses’s true motivation, no matter what he wanted Lucifer to see. The pharaoh extended his arm, baring the old scars of a hundred rituals. “Do it.”

  Lucifer’s nails were talons, slicing effortlessly through skin. Blood welled, black-red, fragrant with ancient magic and the memory of sun-baked stone. He offered his own wrist, a shimmering dark ichor, poisonous and irresistible. Their blood mingled, the magic binding, ancient words spoken in a tongue both men remembered from their first deaths.

  Heat seared the air. The river of souls howled.

  Lucifer pressed his palm to Ramses’s chest, feeling the man’s power coil around his own, the bond snapping into place with a sickening pleasure. “We are joined,” Lucifer whispered, and the words were law. “Show me the path. Open the door.”

  He reached, up, up, through the rifts and cracks, following the thread of Ramses’s lineage. He found Ra. He found the boy’s defenses, the oath, the guilt, the pain. He smiled, sweet as poison. The blood binding was a key, and Ra’s mind was the lock.

  “Poor child,” Lucifer crooned, a whisper in the shadows of Ra’s thoughts. “So alone. So tired. Let me help you carry the burden. You need not bear it all yourself. Trust me. Rest. Let me in.”

  He felt the resistance, the flicker of Ra’s will, but he pressed harder, the blood magic a tide no mortal could resist. Through Ramses, through the crimson bond, he slipped into Ra’s mind, into his memories, into the places even Ra feared to go.

  And from there, Lucifer smiled, for he could see the bargain Ra had made with Viscious. The promise that he now had to keep because he refused the first bargain Ra had actually sought out. Interesting. The good and pure pharaoh king would have to deceive his loved ones in order to keep his word. It was almost better than watching the souls around him burn. This was going to be child’s play, messing with Ra’s head, while also gaining access to Aurora, the little morsel everyone wanted a piece of. Damn, it was good to be back. Let the soul bonded heal their wounds. Let Osiris play at redemption. The game was only beginning, and Lucifer had just found the board.

  As Penny stepped through the portal at Ra’s side, she remembered the phone conversation she’d had with Cordelia only hours ago, and a chill ran through her.

  Penny’s voice had been brisk and a little breathless as she’d returned her coven sister’s call. “Cordelia? Is everything all right?”

  She’d heard Cordelia suck in a sharp breath. “Girl, I was about to call you again. I had a private reading today. Paid visit from a woman named Fern and her foster daughter, Aurora. I know we’ve had plenty of looky-loos lately, but this girl, Penny, she’s different.”

  Penny had frozen as she’d heard the name. It couldn’t be. “What did you say her name was?” The question had been asked slowly, hesitantly.

  “Auora?” Cordelia had answered as if she was asking a question, not just answering one.

  “I’ll be a dragon’s aunt,” Penny had whispered. “What are the chances? I mean, it seems too easy, like a trick, or a trap of some kind.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cordelia had asked. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but she’s got power, but not the kind I can trace. She doesn’t have a Mark, but she feels . . . threaded, if that makes sense. Like she’s stitched to something big, just out of sight. When I did the reading, it was like touching a live wire, but ancient.”

  Penny hadn’t said anything for a long moment. She’d been in shock. “Do you have their information?”

  “Yeah. They booked through the website. Fern Witherspoon and her daughter Aurora. Though I got the ‘foster’ part from when they were here. She didn’t put that on the form online. I’ve got their email, phone, everything they entered on the form. You want me to send it?”

  “No,” Penny had said quickly. “Just . . . keep it safe for now. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “Penny, what is this?” Cordelia had sounded confused and suspicious. “Is she in some kind of trouble? Are you in some kind of trouble? Should I warn Fern?”

  “No. Don’t say anything yet. Just . . . keep your ears open. And Cordelia? Don’t mention this to anyone else.”

  “All right. But if something happens, or I get any weird feelings, I’m calling Fern and having them come back,” she’d said firmly. “If this girl is a witch, then she deserves our protection.”

  “But you don’t know if she’s a witch. You said you weren’t sure what she was.” Penny hadn’t wanted to say too much over the phone. “Just wait to hear from me. But, like you said, if you feel like she’s in serious danger, then call her and have them come back.” She’d had no idea when she would be able to get Rory and their group to Aurora, or if that was even the best thing, but she hadn’t wanted the girl in danger.

  “You okay?” Ra’s voice drew her out of the memory.

  “I’m as good as can be expected under the circumstances. You?”

  The portal had opened just a few steps from the porch of the mansion, which meant they were standing in the pouring, freezing rain. “The last time I came here, I told my Shelly that I didn’t do witches.”

  Penny’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open before she said, “That’s a weird thing to say to your wife–mate, soul bonded, whatever. I mean, dude. Was she relieved, or did she slap you?”

  Ra’s lips turned up ever so slightly, the closest thing to a smile she’d seen on him. He was handsome. She imagined when he really smiled he was downright sexy. “She knew how I meant it.”

  His dry tone snapped her from her admiration of his looks. “Right,” she smacked her forehead. “You mean you don’t like witches, like to work with or otherwise. Not that you didn’t actually do, as in dooooo, witches.” Penny shut her mouth and shook her head. “Can you not tell Shelly that I just said that to you? I’d rather her not kick my ass, and she seems like a puncher, not a slapper. I have no desire to be bitch-punched.”

  Ra nodded and motioned for her to go up the steps first. “You’re right. She’s not a slapper. But she wouldn’t punch you. She likes you.”

  “Even though I just talked to her man about ‘doing witches’?”

  “It’s not like you were propositioning me. Right?” His dark eyes might have twinkled, if that sort of thing was possible in eyes like his.

  She gave a sharp nod. “Absolutely not. I don’t do taken men.”

  “Then we have no problem, and my Shelly wouldn’t punch you.”

  Once they were under the cover of the porch roof, Penny looked up at Ra. His face was etched with worry, and his black eyes held a weariness she hadn’t seen there before. “Just for kicks and giggles, and to get off this weird-ass topic, are you okay?”

  “I’m as good as can be expected under the circumstances,” he said, repeating her answer from earlier with a smirk.

  “Fair.” Whatever he was dealing with wasn’t her business, and she knew that no matter what it was, it wouldn’t keep him from doing what he needed to do in order to protect Aurora. With that knowledge solidly in place, she turned and opened the door to the coven mansion and stepped into the familiar entrance. “Okay then, let’s do this.”

  Penny pressed her palm to the weathered brass knocker and let the door swing open. The Blackhorn Mansion always felt alive to her, old wood breathing, glass eyes in the stained windows watching, the air thrumming with secrets and spells. She was tired, but in the giddy, hopeful way of a traveler finally reaching shelter after a long, dangerous road. Ra was at her side, shoulders tense, jaw set, the element of fire barely banked beneath his skin.