A roar of fury erupted from Bael and, without thinking, Constantine moved in front of Bee to shield her from danger, taking a few steps forward with his sword held at the ready lest any of the demons think of attacking them rather than each other. The demons roared and lunged forward to attack their opposing faction. Asmodeus screamed orders and snatched up a sword from a fallen demon, slashing and hacking his way forward.

Bael stood still for a moment, but Constantine saw his fingers moving. As a son of the First Dragon, Bael had the ability to use arcane magic, powerful magic.

“Stand back,” he said over his shoulder to Bee. “Brace yourself for another shock wave.”

He really should have known his father better, he thought in hindsight a few minutes later. Bael may be many things, but a showman was not one of them, and he would not use a showy spell like an arcane blast when a simpler solution could be managed.

Bael finished weaving his spell and cast it over the fighting demons before him. It froze them into place, including Asmodeus, who was engaged in taking down two of Bael’s demons. Bael simply walked over to his nemesis, pulled out the crystal that resolved itself into the light sword, and lopped off Asmodeus’s head.

Following that, he turned toward Constantine and Bee, and gave them a tight smile, his gaze moving beyond them for a moment. “And that is how you take control of Abaddon, should you ever wish to do so. Ah, but you eschewed that path, didn’t you, in favor of ruling a dragon sept. How did that turn out?”

He heard a muffled gasp from Bee behind him, but couldn’t turn to reassure her. Right now, Constantine was more concerned with how he could destroy the man who had given him life, the man who had taken from Constantine all that he had ever loved.

“I cannot let you proceed,” Constantine said simply. He gestured vaguely with his sword to the still-frozen demons, and the pool of blood that drained from the now-lifeless Asmodeus. “What you do here is of no importance to me. If you would content yourself to ruling Abaddon, I would leave you in peace. But we both know you won’t do that. Your hatred for the dragonkin is too strong, is it not?”

Bael shook his head, dissolving the mage sword back into its crystal form and tucking it away carefully before responding. “Would you not hate being cast out, to have your very nature stripped from you? Would you not wish to seek revenge for those who deprived you of everything that should have been yours?”

“You chose the dark power rather than your own kin,” Constantine said, his eyes narrowed, his body braced for a sudden attack. “You wished to rule legions of demons rather than form your own sept, as all the other children of the First Dragon did. You chose demons over dragons—no one else. You have no one to blame but yourself if your father saw the depths of your soul and stripped your dragon nature from you.”

Bael’s eyes closed for a moment while he gave a soft chuckle. “Perhaps there is some truth in that, although really, what does it matter now? I have gained almost everything I need to take my rightful place as the ruler of the Otherworld. Abaddon”—he waved a hand that took in everything in the room—“is now mine. Asmodeus’s ring is mine. The only thing I have left to acquire is being held by an irritating mage who thinks he has the ability to withstand my attacks. He is wrong.”

“And when you have it all?” Constantine couldn’t help but play devil’s advocate, although he appreciated the irony of doing so in a place that most mortals thought of as hell. “What then?”

“Then, my son, the dragons will be no more. The First Dragon will see what he hath wrought, and he will weep tears of purest sorrow.”

“Patricide?” Constantine gave a little shake of his head. “I know well the feeling, but in your case, it is foolish even to try. You can be killed—the First Dragon cannot.”

“You do not think that the wholesale destruction of all his children, the generations of his descendants, wiped out instantaneously, will not destroy him?” Bael’s face hardened. “It will destroy him as nothing else could.”

Constantine judged the moment to attack to be a point where Bael would be distracted enough by visions of his own grandiosity into leaving himself open. With a “stay where you are” gesture behind his back at the thankfully silent Bee, he lunged forward, the tip of his sword carving a graceful arc through the air. He was just about to part Bael’s head from his body when a noise behind him sent him spinning around.

At least twenty demons stood in silent formation, Bee held in their center, one of the demon’s hands over her mouth. Her eyes were huge, pleading with him to save her. Or perhaps it was to finish Bael—knowing Bee as he did, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had discounted her safety altogether and wanted him to destroy Bael at whatever the cost.

“So predictable,” Bael said, taking Constantine’s sword from his unresisting hand. “You were thus with the mortal who bore you, too. Do you remember? You sought to protect her in much the same manner, brashly assuming that I would be disarmed enough to allow you to harm me, when all along, I held her life in my hands. And now I hold the life of this mortal.”

Bael stopped, frowned, and examined Bee more closely. “But not mortal anymore, I see. A mate? Well done, my son. Taking her life will be even more of a pleasure than taking your mother’s.”

Constantine snarled and leaped toward Bael, but Bee squawked, and Constantine knew without looking that she was being held as a hostage for his good behavior.

“What is this? Wisdom?” Bael’s voice held a distinctly mocking tone as he strolled nonchalantly over to where Bee was being held by a knife-wielding demon. “Something I did not expect to find in you, I admit. You surprise me.”

Constantine realized at that moment what Bael was doing. He pulled back his fire, which had been threatening to escape, and struggled to present as calm a demeanor as the demon lord before him. It took a minute, but he was at last able to say evenly, “How did you know I have the ring?”

Bael smiled. It was unpleasant at best. “I have my spies. You will, naturally, give it to me for the life of your mate.”

“Yes,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.

“Constantine! Don’t—” Bee’s words were cut off when one of the demons holding her lifted her off the ground by her throat.

Constantine glanced toward them, marking the two demons, but otherwise not letting any expression show. He pulled the ring off his finger and made a show of examining it. “Release my mate. Now.”