“Yeah, whatever. Tell you what. If Deth doesn’t kill me, you can do whatever you want with me.” He figured he wasn’t coming back, so hey, this would be just yet another promise to a sibling that he couldn’t keep.

Eidolon pressed his hand more firmly over Lore’s heart. “This is going to hurt.”

“Again, whatever.” There was nothing left in there to injure.

Eidolon’s dermoire lit up, and instant, searing pain tore through Lore’s chest. Who cared. He lost track of how long it went on, but when it was done, he had a hand-shaped scar on his chest. It wasn’t an exact replica of Deth’s, but it should be good enough to get him past Deth’s minions.

“Good luck,” E said. “You sure we can’t help? Wraith can get inside anything.”

“I can’t risk an alarm being raised before I get to Deth and Sin. He’ll kill her and get out before I ever hit the throne chamber.”

“If you change your mind, call.”

“You bet.” He reached out, shook Eidolon’s hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

E nodded. “If anything happens to you, we won’t stop looking for a way to rescue Sin.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Lore met up with Sunil at the demon bar, and together they headed to Sheoul. For the first time in thirty years, Lore couldn’t see the entrance to Deth’s keep. Sunil took Lore by the sleeve and guided him through an invisible—to Lore—barrier. Ahead, beyond a narrow walkway of frozen earth, boulders, and vicious booby traps, was the arched entryway to the den, where two of Deth’s henchmen kept watch.

This would be the first test.

Sunil revealed his mark to the guards, and after sliding Lore a good-luck glance, he disappeared inside.

“Well, Sem?” one of the guards snarled through tusks.

Lore lifted his shirt, revealing the palm-shaped mark they expected. For the space of a long, drawn-out breath, the guard stared, and Lore’s pulse jackhammered through his veins.

“Mark is fresh. Re-upped your contract, eh?”

Lore shrugged. “Discovered all I’m good at is killing.” Discovered Eidolon was good at making cosmetic scars, too.

The other guard cocked his thumb at the entrance. “Go.”

Relief made Lore’s knees weak, but he strode into the keep like he belonged. Like he wasn’t going to tear Deth’s f**king head off. He moved down the hall, boots thudding on the floor in time to his heartbeat. Ahead, the double doors to Deth’s chamber were closed.

Inside, there would be two Ramreels. Smiling, Lore whipped two blades from the weapons harness under his jacket. He didn’t even slow down when he reached the doors. He threw them open, and before the Ramreels could blink, he’d buried his blades in their throats.

Furious, Deth lurched out of his bone chair. Beside him, chained na**d to the base of the throne, was Sin. What had that evil f**k done to her?

“Lore, no!” The concern in her plea only fueled the fires of his anger, which was rapidly turning inferno hot.

He dipped his hand into one pocket for a cutting tool and tossed it to Sin as Deth summoned more guards. An arrow pierced Lore’s shoulder from behind, and pain popped along every single nerve ending. The familiar haze came down over his vision, and for the first time in memory, he was glad for the rage.
* * *

There was nothing but weightlessness in the light. There was no sense of time, no hot or cold, nothing but a sense of peace. Then, suddenly, Idess was standing inside a white-marbled gazebo in the middle of the most beautiful world she’d ever seen. It was like marshmallow clouds raining diamonds all over fields of emerald grass and ruby roses.

Even her imagination couldn’t have spun this up.

Nice to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here. No, she wanted steamy North Carolina forests, McDonalds, and demon men who dressed in leather.

Standing to her left were four angels, two females and two males, all wearing what Idess guessed were ceremonial robes. In crimson. Interesting color choice. In their hands, they held golden scythes.

Obviously, this was the Memitim Council. And none of them looked happy.

Idess dropped to one knee in a deep bow, and realized she was wearing a robe that matched theirs. It pooled around her bare feet like blood.

“Stand.” A male voice compelled her to her feet. “Do you know why you have been brought here?”

“For judgment,” she replied. “For failing my test.”

The auburn-haired female shook her head. “You did not fail.”

Idess frowned. “But Lore. I had relations with him.” I’m bonded to him. Actually, she couldn’t feel him. She cast a covert glance at her hand, where the markings still colored her skin. So maybe they were still bonded, but their link had been dropped like a call on a crappy cell phone network?

“He was not your test.”

Idess tugged her robe more snugly around her. “I don’t understand. Even if he wasn’t my test, is it not forbidden to know any male so intimately? Let alone a demon male?”

“Exceptions are made when the outcome is positive.”

Now she was really confused. “Outcome?”

“Your selflessness was your test. After your betrayal of your brother, we had to make sure you’d grown. And you have. By giving up that which was most important to you—your Ascension—for the greater good, you proved your worth. You knew what intercourse with the half-breed would cost you, yet you did it to gain entrance to Rariel’s lair. By slaying him, you voided the contract on Kynan’s life and ensured his safety.”

“Way to go, Idess.” Reaver’s rumbling voice came from behind her. He was propped against a pillar, arms and ankles casually crossed. “Thought I’d pop by to watch you get your wings.”

“Wings?” Her voice was barely audible, even to her ears. So many feelings mixed together… joy, ecstasy… and panic. She’d wanted this for two thousand years. Had spent entire days dreaming about it. Imagining this very moment.

She’d give it all up in a heartbeat if she could go back to Earth.

“Wings,” the blond male Memitim said. “You will be assigned new duties, for Ascended Memitim are not guardians. We are judges.”

Rami had once told her that guardian angels abandoned evil humans, leaving Memitim to judge them in death. Great. Fine. But she no longer wanted that job.

“But… is there to be no punishment for betraying Rami in the first place? If not for me, he wouldn’t have Fallen.”

The blond male snorted. “He failed his test. We never should have allowed him in.”

Stunned, Idess gaped at the angels. “He didn’t fail. He didn’t sleep with the woman.”

“He did,” the male said. “Why do you think he ran from the summons light for so long?”

“To be with me…” She trailed off, feeling like a fool under the Memitim’s looks of pity. He’d lied.

“He came to us with a stain on his soul.” The auburn female glared at the blond male, and Idess knew he’d played a role in this somehow. “Rami begged us to stay, rather than return to Earth, and because he’d failed his test out of love, we gave him another chance. But his own guilt is what blackened his soul. When he found out what you’d done, it simply accelerated what was fated to be anyway.”

All those years, Idess had punished herself… and for nothing.

“Come forward,” the auburn-haired female continued. “You have earned your reward.”

Idess froze to the floor, which might as well be ice instead of marble. “I can’t.”

The blond male moved toward her. “You cannot be refusing to Ascend.”

“I want to stay on Earth.”

“You want to be with Lore,” Reaver said.

She didn’t deny it. “Please. I know I’ll be human. Mortal. But I love him.”

“If you’re mortal,” Reaver said gravely, “his gift could kill you. You know that, right?”

“I’m willing to take that chance.”

“What if Lore isn’t willing to chance it?”

She shrugged. “I won’t know until I get there.”

“Be sure about this,” the black-haired female said. “What is done cannot be undone.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Reaver blurted. “You know, the done-undone thing. I’m proof of that.”

The carrot-topped male who had been silent shot Reaver an annoyed look. “Stay out of this, battle angel. Don’t you have demons to smite?”

“Totally. There’s an exorcism planned in Melbourne today. But I have an hour to kill, and this is way cooler than X-Box.”

“You make me very glad I Ascended before the age of electronics and ridiculous slang,” the blond male said.

“I’m sure your age of Black Death and witch-burnings was much more fun,” Reaver said dryly.

The auburn female held up her hand. “Enough.” She approached Idess, her expression concerned. “You are certain?”

“Yes,” she breathed, “oh, yes.”

“You cannot remain as Memitim, but your service has earned you more than a mortal existence. If your reason to stay on Earth is to be with Lore, then we will bond you to him so that his power will not kill you, you can travel via Harrowgates with him, and your lifespan will be his. As a half-breed, he has centuries of life ahead of him. When he dies, so shall you, and assuming that you don’t fall prey to evil, you will both be granted entrance into Heaven.”

Heaven? “So… his soul is human.” Idess could hardly breathe at that news. They would be together. Forever. “Do it,” she said. “Make it happen.”

“There is a price. A duty, if you will.”

“Anything. Just hurry!”

“So be it.” The female waved her hand, and instantly, the link to Lore was back.

With a vengeance.

Idess’s knees buckled. Reaver caught her before her knees struck the floor. Darkness and rage slammed into her brain, as well as misery and sorrow.

“Lore,” she gasped. Automatically, she brushed her finger over her wrist, but his heraldi was gone.

“You are no longer Memitim, and he is no longer Primori,” the female said.

“I have to go to him.” She caught glimpses of him… no, not him… but of what he was seeing. Blood. Weapons. Detharu. “He’s at the den. I have to go. Send me there!”

“We can’t get you inside—”

“Then outside! Now!”

The raven-haired female shook her head. “You are human now, and no match for demons in Sheoul.”

“I don’t care! I remember how to fight. Just send me!”

Reaver gripped her shoulders and spoke to the Council. “I got this.” When Idess looked up at him, he grinned and waggled his brows. “Battle angel. Let’s go kick some demon ass.”

Twenty-six

They materialized in Sheoul, just outside a giant door that was guarded by two drooling Ramreels. The beasts didn’t even have time to draw their machetes before Reaver went Terminator on the demons. He didn’t fight them; he demolished them.

When they were nothing but steaming piles of quivering flesh on the ground, he brushed off his hands and pushed the door open. “I can’t enter without an executive order. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Reaver.”

With a nod, he was gone.

Idess’s bare feet slapped the floor of Deth’s den as she ran, the crimson robe flapping at her legs and ankles. Dread rumbled through her, plowing into the overwhelming fury and pain the link brought from Lore.

Oh, please no. Idess exploded through the doors… and skidded to a stop. Her heart slammed into her rib cage and remained there, plastered to the bone and not beating.

Lore was raging, was a bloody mess as he battled several demons. Sin was on the ground, struggling against the fierce hold of three Ramreels. Their bleeding wounds and the weapons scattered around Sin spoke of her valiant attempt to kill them before they’d taken her down.

Deth stood at his throne, snarling like a rabid dog. “You!” he hissed at her. “We had a deal!”

She swung, but her newly human body lacked the strength she was accustomed to, and Deth easily captured her. He yanked her against him, his hand jamming into her chest, and fire melted her robe and seared her skin. She screamed… and so did Lore. In her peripheral vision, she saw him lunge for Deth, only to be slammed to the floor by a Ramreel.

“Kill him!” Deth commanded, and as the link to Lore faded, the fresh bond on her chest flared with heat. “Kill Lore.” Deth’s voice was reedy with panic and fury. “Do it now!”

Killing wasn’t in the terms they’d negotiated at the Guild, but the need to comply tugged at Idess anyway. Against her will, her feet shuffled toward Lore.

No. Clenching her teeth, she battled Deth’s compulsion. Sweat popped out on her brow, and her nails dug deep into her palms. As she ground to a halt, her resistance to Deth’s command became an agonizing sting of nettles under her skin.

Sin’s curses and the harsh sounds of battle rang in her ears. Lore was fighting with everything he had, from a Ramreel’s machete, to his teeth. His eyes glowed crimson, embers of hate inside his skull.

“You bitch!” Deth screamed, as Lore took down one of the Ramreels and started after the assassin master. “I said kill him!”

Her bond became a white-hot brand that bored all the way to her spine. Woodenly, she retrieved a machete off the floor. The Ramreels had somehow pinned Lore’s killing arm beneath him. He was vulnerable.