I was back to work and collecting souls as usual. J.B. had gotten over his recent bout of adorableness and gone back to being a crab every time I talked to him. He had tersely informed me not to put any stock in anything he had said to me while at his mother’s castle. Amarantha, he asserted, had cast a spell on him so that he would be drawn to me. Actually, she’d cast a spell on our whole party—it just didn’t take with me for some reason. She’d figured if Nathaniel attacked me, then I would turn to J.B., and then she’d have a different kind of family tie to Lucifer.

“So you didn’t mean any of it?” I said. I wondered why it hurt so much. J.B. was just a friend.

“My mother was hedging her bets,” he said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“That’s all the answer you’re going to get,” he said, and walked away from me. This was becoming a theme with the men in my life.

It was almost comforting to have an argument with him every time we saw each other. It made it easier to forget the look of need on his face when he thought I was going to die in the Maze, and it kept me from wondering whether or not that feeling was real, false or just amplified by Amarantha’s spell.

Gabriel avoided me unless we were working with Samiel. I refused to ask him to be my bodyguard again. In fact, I refused to make any requests of him at all. I was determined to show him that things could be different between us. He didn’t seem to be buying it yet, but I could work on him. I’d learned how to wear someone down from the best teacher ever—my annoying gargoyle.

Nathaniel had sent me eight dozen roses in various colors the day after my fight with Baraqiel. I didn’t have the heart to throw out so many beautiful flowers, but I crushed all the notes into the garbage unopened. It probably goes without saying that my feelings were confused where he was concerned.

Four days after the dawn had broken over the gooey remains of Baraqiel on the beach the day was unseasonably warm and sunny. Beezle and Samiel fell asleep in a sunbeam on the sofa in the front room. Beezle seemed to have adopted our stray.

Feeling oddly restless, like I was waiting for something to happen, I decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air and went out to the front porch. It felt like sixty degrees outside, and I pulled off my sweater and sat in my shirtsleeves in the sunshine. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth.

When I opened them again, Lucifer stood in front of me, looking terribly ordinary. He’d hidden his wings underneath a long black overcoat, and underneath he wore blue jeans and a black sweater a lot like mine. His hands were tucked into his pockets and his expression seemed deliberately neutral.

“I’ve been expecting you,” I said, and when I said it I knew it was true. I’d felt him coming all day.

“Sometimes I see Evangeline in your face,” he said. “Just now, when you turned your face to the sun. She used to look at me like that, like I was her sun.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I just watched him sit down on the porch next to me and stretch his legs out in front of him.

“You seem to be making a habit of killing my children,” Lucifer said.

“But I’m preserving your grandchildren against all odds, so that should count for something.”

“I’m not sure the Grigori would agree with you. They were most disturbed to hear of the existence of another of Ramuell’s spawn.”

I didn’t want Lucifer to dwell too long on this subject, especially since I wasn’t ready to have to fight for Samiel yet. I’d hoped to have time to devise a strategy before they took him away.

“Anyway,” I said. “How was I to know Baraqiel was one of your children? It’s not as though you advertised the fact.”

“Would knowledge of his paternity have stopped you from acting?” Lucifer asked shrewdly.

“Well, no,” I admitted. “He was trying to kill me at the time.”

We sat in silence for a while, then Lucifer spoke again.

“Your hand. I do not know if your father told you. Your fingers will grow back, in time.”

I looked at the cauterized stumps. “Cool. I’m like a starfish now.”

“I have been very impressed with your actions, Madeline. When I asked you to be my ambassador, I did not expect such an outcome. You have averted a great crisis with Focalor as well as revealed Amarantha’s hidden intentions of making a child of my bloodline. They will both pay dearly for crossing me.”

“Did you ever really want to renegotiate a treaty with Amarantha?” I asked curiously. “Because it did occur to me that if that was what you wanted, you might have sent a more skilled negotiator.”

Lucifer smiled enigmatically. “Perhaps subtlety is not always wanted. And perhaps I wanted to see how you would handle yourself.”

“So it was a test?” I asked in disbelief. “I almost died in that Maze, you know.”

He had the gall to chuck me under the chin. “No, you did not. Your will is stronger than even you know. I need an heir for my kingdom, you know. An heir that has demonstrated the kind of strength of will that you showed in the Maze.”

“Oh, no,” I said, alarmed. “Don’t even think about it. Why not make one of your sons heir? You seem to have them popping out of the woodwork all over the place. And really, what benefit would it be for an immortal who has survived eons to make a mortal half human your heir?”

“One never knows what might happen. And my heir must be a creature of immense power so that the courts will continue to respect my rule.”




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