Demon Marked

anything that Lucifer had to throw at him—starting with fear.

The demon landed on cloven hooves and knees that jointed backward. Not the same as Ash, then. Even fully changed, her body maintained a human shape. His gaze swept over them. Ash’s trembling increased. In front of them, Khavi’s hellhound whimpered with three heads.

Lucifer focused on Khavi, spoke. Nicholas didn’t know the language. When he glanced at Ash, she gave a tiny shake of her head. She didn’t know, either.

“I want Michael out of the field,” Khavi replied in English. She reached out to her hellhound’s shoulder, soothed the trembling beast. “The halfling refuses to exchange places with him, so I’ve brought her to you with the intention of making a bargain.”

Lucifer’s laugh chilled Nicholas to the bone, started the pounding of his heart. Not fear, but survival instinct warning him of the danger, urging him to flee.

Lucifer spoke again.

Khavi shook her head. “She isn’t worthless to you. She has your Gate on her face—which I understand you needed because Michael won a wager that forced you to close your other Gates. You needed her because of Michael; now I need her because of Michael. Her worth to us is equal.”

Ash’s tremors ceased. Though her eyes didn’t glow, the look she gave Khavi was nothing short of murder. Furious, Nicholas saw. Suddenly so angry that it had smothered her terror.

Because she hated being the puppet, he realized. Just as she’d hated the Rules that prevented her from acting of her own will, she would hate anyone who jerked her around like a marionette on strings . . . and that was what Khavi did now.

Lucifer didn’t seem to mind Khavi’s use of a demon, however. After a long, considering look at her, Lucifer gave a short reply.

Khavi responded, “The bargain I propose is simple: If you release Michael from the field by sacrificing one of your demons, when it is done and Michael has been released from Hell—completely away from this realm—then before one day passes, I will sacrifice this halfling on Earth and open the portal for you. It is a sacrifice for a sacrifice, and we each receive something of value to us.”

No. Rage pushed Nicholas forward. Before he’d gone a step, Ash stopped him with a hard squeeze of his hand. Her lips moved.

Opportunity.

Waiting for an opportunity. She was right. Though almost impossible not to race forward, to tear both Khavi and Lucifer apart with his hands, it would be suicide. Surviving was more important than acting on his anger right now.

He hardened his rage, fought to toss it away. Fear, anger. He would not be controlled by either. Not when it risked their lives.

“Yes, with Michael’s release, you also lose something of value to you,” Khavi said to Lucifer. “So it is not completely equal. To balance that loss, I would also offer this novice Guardian. You lose one Guardian to torture, and gain possession of another.”

Him, Nicholas realized, and then it was his turn to clamp his hand around Ash’s wrist, to prevent her from reacting.

“No, he is nothing like Michael,” Khavi agreed. “But it will be an exchange of the oldest Guardian for the newest one. There is something elegant about it, is there not? His transformation offered hope and strength to the Guardian corps, belief that our future could be strong. I am giving you the opportunity to destroy that; even Michael’s return will not heal that injury.”

Lucifer’s powerful gaze swept over Nicholas. He spoke.

“His Gift has not yet manifested,” Khavi responded. “And I cannot see what I do not already know. His Gift might be useful to you. I cannot say.”

Lucifer regarded her silently for a long moment. When he spoke, she shifted uneasily.

“I’m willing to give you a day to consider it,” she said. “But I won’t leave them here with you without a bargain.”

He spoke again, and Khavi snorted a laugh.

“You don’t have any goodwill.”

His gaze moved to her hellhound.

Khavi went still. “I won’t leave Lyta.”

Lucifer’s smile said it all. Either she would choose to leave Ash and Nicholas, or the hellhound—but there would be no bargain if she didn’t choose one to stay.

“Let me take Ashmodei,” Khavi said. “She’s the more valuable to both of us. I’ll leave the Guardian here.”

Yes, Nicholas thought.

Lucifer turned away.

Khavi called out, “Both of them, then! But only four hours to consider my offer. And you’ll return them to me, unharmed, if you do not intend to accept our bargain.”

Nicholas didn’t know what Lucifer said, but the triumph in the demon’s face told him well enough: He’d agreed.

Her hand on the hellhound’s shoulder, Khavi didn’t even turn to look at them. She vanished.

The details didn’t matter. Bargain or not, they were dead.

Unless they got the fuck out of here.

Nicholas focused on that thought as they raced across the frozen field, surrounded by a troop of armed demons. Lucifer had finally called for them—not as backup, but as herders. No one but Lucifer could fly across the frozen field; their wings wouldn’t even form. Nor would Lucifer carry them. So running it was, his feet burning from the cold. Ash’s might have been, too. She’d vanished her boots after her heel had struck one of those frozen eyes, but her heated skin might save her some of the pain.

He didn’t think that mattered, either. In the frozen field, surrounded by silence and screams, Ash probably wasn’t thinking of her feet. But just as she had when Madelyn ordered her to kill him, Ash had concealed her emotions. Terror and anger had to be hidden behind her blank features. She wasn’t going to let the demons know it.

The black tower rose ahead of them, spearing into the red sky. With a base the width of a small city, Nicholas couldn’t see around it. They passed out of the silent, frozen field into a cacophony of flapping wings and demon tongues, the growls of hellhounds. Jeers and laughter followed them to the entrance.

Unharmed, so far. Lucifer didn’t have to keep them that way—his agreement with Khavi at the end hadn’t been a bargain. So Lucifer must be saving the pain up for something bigger than whatever a random demon threw at them.

They passed into the tower—obviously not through the main entrance. A small arch opened to a dark stair, and they were urged up, up, around and around. Nicholas counted steps until they stopped. Eight thousand four hundred and fifty-six. Thank God he didn’t tire anymore.

Pushed out into an unlit stone corridor, they were assaulted by screaming, sobbing. Not the screams of the frozen field, echoing only in his head, but of terror and pain.

“Torture rooms,” Ash said. “How fun.”

Nicholas had to laugh. A demon’s head turned sharply. Never heard a laugh in this place before? Well, he was sure it would be hysterical, sobbing laughter pretty soon.

Lucifer waited at the end of the corridor, a smaller demon at his side. No, not as his side. Just behind him. Clearly subordinate.

The second demon smiled and gestured to a stone door. “The honeymoon suite.”

The what?

Ash closed her eyes. “I’m going to wake up tomorrow and find this is all an absurd trick played by Khavi.”

“You won’t wake up tomorrow,” the demon said. “Go in.”

The small chamber had been constructed of the same black stone as the rest of the tower. But not even black stone, he saw—it was marble, corrupted and pitted, as if after thousands of years of smoke and fire. Not the