Peter’s face was completely impassive. “I know it should be princess, but we’ve never had a reigning female demon lord. We tend to be very set in our traditions here.”

‘“We? You mean you’re not just a demon?”

“Do you really believe me to be so insignificant?” He laughed his peculiar humorless laugh.

“OK, let’s back up a couple of steps.” My head felt like it was going to explode. Maybe if I went through everything one point at a time, I could keep from actually going insane. “First of all, I’m not reigning anything— either the Otherworld, or a demon lord’s position in Abaddon. I have one little demon, and it’s not a particularly bad specimen. In addition, I have no intention of taking part in any of the politics you guys are so wrapped up in. And finally”—I took a deep breath, my faint control snapping—”what the hell did you do to me to make me use dark power? “

Peter just looked at me with cold, blank eyes. Jim’s cold nose touched my hand in warning. I looked down at my demon, puzzled why it didn’t speak. That’s when the penny dropped. “You’re a demon lord.”

He bowed. It lacked all the panache of the dragon’s courtly moves. “I have that honor, yes. I’m surprised you did not recognize me, since you’ve summoned me in the past.”

“I have?” I racked my brain to think of the time I’d summoned a demon lord. Yet another penny dropped. “You’re Bael, also known as Beelzebub.”

“I wondered if you would recognize me. I took great pains to disguise myself to you.”

“But... I should have known who you were. I’m a Guardian. I should have felt something different about you.. .”

“There are some benefits to being the premier prince of Abaddon,” he said with a faint scowl. The deathless look in his eyes made shivers go up my back, into my hair. “The ability to create glamours that can fool even other princes of Abaddon is one of them.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked, my question coming out a near wail. “Why would you try to get me to be Venediger if all you wanted was for me to banish Ariton?”

“My plans are many, and you have a significant role to play in them,” Peter answered. (I couldn’t stand to think of him as Bael, the head demon lord of Abaddon, the one who was going to be thrown down from power in a few days.)

I brushed away a few tears of horror. “This is about power, isn’t it? You’re due to be booted from the big kid’s chair, and you don’t want to go.”

“Would you?”

I shook my head. “This isn’t about me and what I want. You want power here”—my skin crawled at the realization of what was behind his manipulations to put me into the position of Venediger—”and in the Otherworld. You plan on using me to rule both worlds, don’t you?”

Peter strolled past me and examined a bookshelf behind Ariton’s desk. “And there are some who say you are not particularly bright.”

“Was it you who tried to kill me?”

“My dear, if I wanted you dead, you would have been so before the thought left my mind. That shot was just to bring you to Ariton’s house in case he bungled his plan to use you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “I won’t do it. I won’t help you here, and I won’t help you in the Otherworld. I am one of the good guys. I refuse to be a part of this.”

“Do you really think you have that choice?” Peter snarled at me, slamming down a book on the desk. “Despite what you believe, you are now a prince of Hell. You have toppled Ariton from power. That automatically gives you his place on the council. Far from one demon, you now lead twenty-two legions of demons and demon-kind.”

I stared at the demon lord before me, my mind crawling around, unable to shake off the horrible, paralyzing sense of shame, fear, and loathing that consumed me. “You tricked me into banishing Ariton.”

“Tricked? Perhaps. I prefer to think of it as enlightenment. I showed you a possibility. You acted upon it.” Bael made a dismissive movement with his hands that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

“How could I have done it? I’m just a Guardian. I have one demon. I don’t have the sort of power needed to banish a demon lord!”

“Not on your own, no.” Peter walked around the desk and shuffled through some of Ariton’s papers. “But quite cleverly, you used Ariton’s power against him.”

“I didn’t know ...” I clutched the nearest chair, sinking into it as my legs went boneless. I wanted to weep until my tears washed away everything in my existence. “Channeling a demon lord’s power is not anything I’ve done before. I didn’t know that was what I was doing. I was just trying to save my life.”

“And you succeeded extremely well. You show great potential, Aisling Grey. I will be happy to have you at my side as my lieutenant.”

“I will not be anyone’s lieutenant.” Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed hard to shove it down. “I don’t want to be a demon lord. I don’t want legions. I don’t want to be a prince of Abaddon. I hereby officially abdicate the position.”

Hatred pure and deep flared to life in his dark eyes, causing me to recoil against the back of the chair. The hairs on the backs of my arms stood on end. Jim pressed tight against me, clearly trying to lend support.

It did little good.

“There is no abdication. You are, or you are not.” He seemed to grow until he filled my vision, my body trembling in response to the threat he presented. It swamped me, drenched me in the absolute conviction that he could, and would, destroy my body and leave my soul in perpetual torment. “There is no gray area where Abaddon is concerned. Do not believe that you can put me off the way you did Ariton. You will either agree to support me as I continue to rule Abaddon, or I will destroy you. Right here. Right now. Decide!”

I believed him. This was my existence on the line. I looked at Jim. “What are my chances?”

“Truthfully?” Jim shook its head. “Nada.”

My heart fell. I was trapped, bound, wrapped in the chains of my own ignorance, with no possible way out. I curled up into a little ball on the chair, my soul sick with the knowledge of what I’d become. It came down to a matter of survival, pure and simple. Either I agreed to do what he wanted, or he’d kill me. Period. Shame filled me at the knowledge that I was too weak to die with honor.