“Yes, but I’m exhausted.”
His mouth covered mine deeply. I took him all in, my senses jumping for joy. I wanted to lick him, taste him, and feel him against me. My body burned for him. I pushed myself up against him. He growled with pleasure, his blond stubble tickling my chin as he kissed me.
I wanted to lose myself in him forever, but I couldn’t. I broke from him with supreme effort. “As much as I regret this, we have to get this over with.”
Rourke let me go reluctantly. He knew what was needed and moved me over, immediately kneeling by Selene’s head. “Do you want me to take it off? Her neck is damaged beyond repair, but her head is still attached.”
“I don’t know.” Her chest was open, and her neck was shredded. She wasn’t healing because the cross was still in her chest.
Rourke grabbed on to her head. “I’m not taking any chances. We take her head off and her heart out—whatever’s left of it.” But before he could do anything rocks began to shake from the walls. They rained down around us.
Instead of pulling Selene’s head off, Rourke jumped up with a roar and came at me, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me backward against him.
“What is it?” I yelled.
Sulfur poured into the room, making us all gag.
“Something’s coming,” he said. “Let’s go. The way Tyler came in is the back way. Head for the opening.” He herded me along.
“Do you know what it is for sure?” With the scent of sulfur, we knew it was coming from the Underworld.
“Whatever it is, it’s huge,” he said grimly.
“Jess,” Tyler said. “We’re right behind you. Go, go.”
Naomi gave a diminutive shriek as Danny wrapped his arm around her middle and picked her up. “You weren’t moving fast enough.” He’d changed back and was in his sheet once again. We all moved toward the opening. The only person who was missing was Ray. I had no idea what happened to him—if he had gotten out or if Eamon had indeed taken him.
The floor continued to shake, rocks tumbled, candles flickered, and the chandelier jumped. The power climbed quickly and it started to taste familiar. “Oh my God,” I gasped. “This is the same signature from the forest.”
An explosion ripped through the room, smashing Rourke and me into the wall, the others following, all of us tumbling into one another.
When the dust settled a single shape stood in front of us.
“Well, well, well. We finally meet.” A voice laced with sarcasm floated through the room. “I’ve heard so very much about you.”
27
“And yet I’ve heard nothing about you,” I said as I picked myself off the ground as eloquently as I could manage. Rourke was already beside me, a low warning issuing from the back of his throat. I figured my best line of defense at the moment was to act like the sight of a Demon Lord in the flesh wasn’t freaking me out completely. I wasn’t sure I could pull it off, but it was worth a try. Get a handle on the fear, I told my wolf. We don’t want to emit any scent if we can help it.
“Well, my reputation does precede me in certain circles,” it said.
“I’m assuming you came to pick up your prize?”
“What? Are you referring to this?” It arched a well-manicured hand toward Selene’s lifeless body like it was nothing. If imps were greasy and unkempt, Demon Lords were the exact opposite. This man-thing emitted enough power to choke all of us and was dressed like a news anchor in a perfectly tailored three-piece suit without a single fiber out of place. It must have been glamoured on him in some way. I’d always pictured demons wearing capes and dressed in all black—not dressed to deliver the nightly news. What was most disturbing was its face. It was as precise as it was cruel, flawless and hawkish at the same time. Its hair arched away from its face in a poof that would be impossible to re-create, even on the Jersey Shore, no matter how much shellac. “Selene is not why I came. I came for you, of course.”
“What do you mean you came for me?” I balked. So much for cool.
It took a step closer and the room erupted in growls. I glanced to the right. Both Tyler and Danny had their game faces on. “My sister is not up for adoption, Demon,” my brother snarled. “You came to the wrong cave.”
The demon stopped and opened its hands like it was going to give a sermon to a roomful of worshippers. “Let me correct myself. I came to assess your threat to my race and make an appropriate diagnosis. Once I make my judgment I will do what needs to be done. As always.”
Rourke took a step forward, but before he could get a word out, I latched on to his forearm and stepped in front of him. He was not getting in the middle of this. I’d just gotten him back. “I am no threat to your race, I can assure you. I told your imp the same thing. I have no interest in demons, and that will never change.”
“That’s pleasant to hear, of course, but our oracle says otherwise. A female werewolf is no small thing, you see. The powers entrusted to you are unpredictable. They are said to morph as necessary and take on the attributes of those you fight, and because of this, you have been singled out as a threat to our race. I am here to erase that threat.”
“How can I threaten your race if I have no interest in you? I haven’t made a single move against you. Getting to the Underworld is no small thing, and you can believe me when I tell you I have no desire to visit.”
“Ah, but you have. Made a move, that is.” It put its fingers carefully in front of it in a mock bow. “Recently you have killed, not one, but two imps. They do count as ours, however distasteful. And please correct me if I’m wrong, but within the last day you have defeated a small army of our most precious pets, the Camazotz. Such a shame, as they are irreplaceable. Now, it seems, you have managed to kill a powerful goddess, who was also technically ours. The totality of that claim can be debated, of course, but once a soul is entrusted to us and we have distributed the agreed-upon power, we take full credit. Committing each of those crimes carries a debt of servitude in the Underworld, each indiscretion a different sentence. It seems, in just a very, very short time, you have amassed several centuries worth of debt to be meted out how we see fit.”
“Several hundred years of hard labor in the Underworld for each crime? You’ve got to be joking.” A giggle escaped my throat, because what else was I going to do but laugh? “And, just for the record, I didn’t technically kill the second imp. When I brought him back to my father, he was alive. I only rang his bell a little. What my father chose to do with him after was none of my business.” Why was I arguing stupid points? Because my brain was reeling. My wolf gnashed her teeth together and I had no better comebacks. This couldn’t be right. I had nothing to do with demons. “In my world, if your imp buddies come after me, I have full rights to defend myself. It says so under my Pack Laws. I can’t be in violation of an Underworld law for defending Pack Law. That goes against any kind of supernatural code and wouldn’t hold up in any court. I’ve heard you guys are big on courts.” The rumors were always that demons operated in a very regimented world, by their own regimented rules.
“My buddies, as you refer to them,” it said, “were not authorized to attack. It’s my understanding that you—what’s the human word?—tailed an imp who was minding his own business, and once confronted, that imp defended himself against you.”
“Minding his own business?” My hands fisted. “You mean in the process of raping a sixteen-year-old girl? Endangering human lives can’t be an acceptable Underworld practice. He had called attention to himself and had served jail time in a human prison. Those things have to count as some kind of an offense in your world.”
The demon’s mouth curved in distaste. “What an imp chooses to do on this plane is up to him. He had broken none of our laws.” Its hand flipped upward. It was shiny and way too clean. “You were the pursuer”—the demon flipped the other one so they were both out—“therefore you must pay.”
“Damn right I was the pursuer,” I said as I took a step forward without realizing it. “And I would pursue again and again to stop any imp from harming another innocent.”
“My point exactly.” Its eyes narrowed, its meticulous mouth curving up on one side in a half grin. It was like an extremely refined Hannibal Lecter. There was something so creepy and unnatural about this demon. Chills raced along my spine. I’d just inadvertently put myself right in its snare. “You are a nuisance and you will answer for your crimes before we allow you to commit any others against us.”
“I’m not going to answer for anything,” I growled. “But if it gets you off my back, I will vow to you that I have no beef with the Underworld. My words should ring true enough to you.”
“Your vows are not valid to us.”
“Why not?”
“There are too many loopholes with the spoken word and it is too late for that anyway.” It turned from us, clasping its hands behind its back, as it stalked away. “You have already violated our laws. You will pay for your crimes first, and then we will craft something that will bind you to your word, but it will take time to hone it to perfection, of course.”
“I’m not paying for my crimes because I committed none.”
Rourke, Tyler, and Danny were all a hairsbreadth away from dropping and changing. I had to make sure that didn’t happen. If they attacked we would go to war with this Demon Lord, and I didn’t like those odds.
“Are you challenging my authority? The Crown of Astaroth is mine, you see.” It looked at me curiously. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“Um.” I paused. I was a twenty-six-year-old newborn werewolf. I had no idea who this demon was. I’d just heard of the Crown of Astaroth for the first time from the imp. I had zero idea what it meant. “I don’t know who you are and, to tell you the truth, I don’t really care. I know you won’t tell me your real name, because giving it to me would be too risky—even though I don’t know how to summon anything. My disinterest alone should prove I have no desire in your crown or your throne. Keep your imps and soul-selling goddesses on a tighter leash, and we shouldn’t have any more problems in the future.”