Demon Marked

“What?”

“Your name. I finally saw it when you moved—it’s written here.” Lilith touched her own chest, and Ash mirrored the movement, flattening her palm over the large symbol between her breasts. “Lucifer named you after a demon who betrayed him. It would be considered an insult to Ashmodei, giving the name to a halfling. I take it a good sign.”

“Ashmodei,” she repeated softly. When she looked at Nicholas, a smile had transformed her face. “So you helped me discover it, after all.”

“I didn’t—”

“You’re the one who stripped me naked.”

God, and she made him laugh. He followed her into the bedroom, memorizing the sway of her blond hair against her back, the square of her shoulders, the dimples above her perfect ass. Then she looked down at herself and her clothes formed, with boots matching the one that still lay with a broken heel near the bed.

The Guardians could probably tell her how and why she did that. Nicholas hadn’t even been able to tell Ash her name. They could train her, better than he ever could.

She faced him, and her smile had already gone, her eyes glowing crimson. He knew what her choice would be. What it had to be.

And he knew what his had to be, too. “I’ll go with you.”

“They’ll lock me up, you realize. Not in a cell, but the effect is the same. They’ll lock me up tight—and you’d be locked up with me, too, because Madelyn might find me through you.”

“Then I’ll stay locked up with you.”

Her tearful smile gave him hope. Until she spoke. “You can’t come.”

Feeling sucker-punched, he shook his head. “What?”

“You can’t.” Her breath hitched. “The Guardians aren’t perfect. They can be defeated. They have their limits. You forced one to leave us in Duluth by pointing a crossbow at her friend’s head. They’ll work harder than that to protect me, but there’s always a chance Madelyn will get through and I’ll have to choose whether or not to kill you.”

And he’d make that choice as easy for her as he could. “You died for me once. I’d return the favor.”

“That was Rachel.”

No. He hadn’t meant—“I know you aren’t Rachel.”

He’d never been this fucked up over her. Rachel had deserved better than she’d gotten, but he hadn’t been able to give it to her.

“Yes, but that’s my point. That was Rachel. She loved you.”

His chest turned to lead. “And you don’t.”

But it didn’t matter. He’d still protect her. He’d still die for her.

“Today I think I do,” she said, but held up her hands, stopped him when he’d have gone to her. “Tomorrow, I might not.”

“Ash—”

“It’ll probably change. It’ll fade.” She drew her hands in, wrapping them around her stomach as if keeping herself warm, holding herself in. “Nothing I feel stays the same. My emotions are up, and down, and all over. Today, I know that if Madelyn told me to kill you, I wouldn’t—even though there’s nothing that terrifies me more than the frozen field. But tomorrow, I might kill you rather than be trapped there again. Tomorrow, I might hate you for keeping the truth about Madelyn killing my parents from me. Tomorrow, your life might not be my limit.”

“I’d give it to you,” he said hoarsely. “Whether you love me or not, and not in exchange for Rachel. Just for you.”

“You might give it. But if I don’t love you, I’d be taking it to save myself—and I’d become everything you finally believe I’m not.”

If Ash was capable of becoming that, she wouldn’t give a shit about whether she did. And Nicholas didn’t believe she could be that, no matter how she felt about him. “No—”

“And you have to rescind the permission you gave me, so that you’re protected by the Rules again.”

What? She wouldn’t be able to touch him as she wanted. She hated the restrictions the Rules put on her. If there was only one human in the world she didn’t have to check herself with, it would be him.

Nicholas shook his head. “No.”

“Yes. Not having to follow the Rules makes it too easy for me; there would be no consequences if I kill you. If Madelyn orders me to do it and my emotions aren’t strong enough to stop me, maybe fear for my own life will.”

And if her emotions did stop her, she’d end in the frozen field. So they were back to that again. If she loved him, if she was with him, then her soul was in danger.

Until Madelyn was dead.

So he had a purpose again—the same purpose he’d always had: destroying Madelyn. But this time, not for revenge. This time, it was for Ash.

“I’ll find Madelyn,” he vowed. “I’ll kill her, just to release you. Then I’ll find you again.”

“But—”

“And I release you from our bargain. I won’t take back the Rules’ protection, but I’ll stay away until she’s dead.”

“Nicholas,” she whispered brokenly—and finally, she reached for him. He held her close, her body so strong, so warm. “I hope this fades. Because I never want to feel like this again.”

Neither did Nicholas. Her mouth rose to his, and when she kissed him, Nicholas knew he wouldn’t have a moment’s peace until she kissed him again.

But it wouldn’t be now. And when she drew back, he let her go.

CHAPTER 15

The Guardians’ headquarters in San Francisco wasn’t quite the prison Ash had thought it would be. She’d immediately had free range within the facility—and within two weeks, had been allowed to take walks around the neighborhood, with either a Guardian or Sir Pup by her side.

Today, Ash had chosen Sir Pup. Appearing as happy-golucky as any other dog sitting beneath a cafe’s sidewalk table on a sunny spring day, he lay at her feet while she read and sipped her coffee. That appearance was deceiving. If Madelyn found her, tried to issue an order, the hellhound would shape-shift and bite off the demon’s head before the second word passed her lips.

If Madelyn found her here. Ash knew the Guardians didn’t think it was likely, or they’d never have let her outside. Except for changing between her demonic and natural forms, Ash would never be able to shape-shift. Lucifer’s symbols carved into her body prevented any other shifting, probably just for this reason: so she couldn’t hide from Madelyn. But stage makeup to cover her tattoos, scissors, brown hair dye, and a hat to shadow her features all worked well enough to keep attention away from her.

So did a Guardian named Radha, a master of illusion who was currently in London and posing as a tattooed, miraculously-returned-from-the-presumed-dead Rachel Boyle. The story the Guardians came up with had been easy to follow online, caught in sensationalized headlines: Owing to some still-unknown trauma, Rachel had lost her memory for three years, which she’d spent at Nightingale House until she’d finally remembered her past . . . tragically too late to be reunited with her parents.

All close enough to the truth to be verified, and the remainder vague enough to mystify or frustrate anyone who tried to dig deeper. After two months, the news had lost interest, police investigations into those still-missing three years between Rachel’s disappearance and Nightingale House were cooling down again, and Madelyn still hadn’t made a move against Radha—she hadn’t even made a psychic probe to confirm Rachel’s identity.

Madelyn would probably do so soon, however. Since Rachel’s tattooed face had first spread across the