"A death," I said. "Or deaths. Let's go, then. We have to—"

Trsiel put his hand on my shoulder. His touch was almost as hot as the sword. "Slow down. This is what she wants, for you to rush off after her."

I hesitated, my gut telling me to ignore him, move fast, head her off. Another classic Eve Levine error-in-judgment in the making.

"She may succeed," Trsiel said. "She probably will. You have to be prepared for that."

"She'll kill someone, you mean. Take a partner before I can intercede." I nodded. "I know. But if I'm going to move cautiously, then the first thing I need to do is make damned sure that the Fates don't have any tips to help me contain her. Could you visit Amanda Sullivan by yourself?"

"You want us to split up again," he said with a soft sigh.

"This is the best use of our resources. Now, give me an hour—or do you guys keep time?"

"We can." He hesitated, then nodded. "Let me give you a code. Someplace safe you can wait."

I waited until he was gone, then headed to the house to meet up with Kristof.

Chapter 25

ROSS HADN'T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT THE NIX, AND he was pretty damned freaked out to learn she'd been under his nose—and in his bed—for several days. It was enough to make a guy swear off nymphs for good… or at least for a few weeks. The Luther Ross Poltergeist School for Nymphs was closing its doors until the Nix was captured, and in the meantime, its headmaster was packing his bags. As for those poltergeist lessons, the subject never came up in front of Kristof…

thankfully.

"Trsiel has been here," the middle Fate said as soon as we appeared. "He has some concerns about Kristof's involvement."

"And didn't waste any time voicing them," Kristof muttered.

"We believe he may have a point." She lifted a hand against Kris's protest. "Hear us out. This Nix, having now met Eve, clearly feels this is personal, and we fear she may lash out at Eve by hurting someone close

—"

My gut went cold. "Savannah. Oh, my God."

Kristof's head shot up, eyes wide with alarm. The Fate lifted both hands this time.

"To go after Savannah, the Nix would need to know who you are, and what is important to you. She's a demi-demon. She has no patience for that—not when she's already found one way to hurt you."

I saw the Nix whipping Kristof toward that open portal, felt my gut go cold again. One look my way at that moment, and she'd know exactly how to get to me.

"While I appreciate your concern, ladies," Kristof murmured. "I believe that, ultimately, the risk is mine to accept or decline."

The oldest Fate shot in. "Is it?"

Kris snuck a glance my way. "Well, of course Eve can voice her opinion, but if I feel I can help, I will."

"If that Nix opens another portal and tries to toss you into it, I'm sure Eve will say, 'That was his decision,' and let you go while she captures the Nix."

Kristof looked at me again. "Very well. I'll step aside. But if you need me, Eve—"

Before he could finish, the Searchers whisked him away.

It turned out that the Fates didn't know a way for me to contain the Nix, so I used Trsiel's code and teleported into a room that looked as if it had been carved out of pearl, with iridescent walls that glimmered with streaks of pink and blue. The wall looked as hard and solid as pearl, but felt like loosely wadded silk. As I stepped back, my feet sank into what felt like plush carpet, yet the floor appeared to be made of the same material as the walls. From somewhere came the softest strain of music, almost an undercurrent of the air itself. Typical angel quarters? Hardly the way I'd want to spend my afterlife. But places like these would be for full-bloods like Trsiel. I wondered where the ascendeds lived. In the ghost world? Keeping their angelic identities a secret? Another of a million questions I'd need to ask… if Trsiel was right that the Fates intended to offer me angel-hood.

"Where the hell did you send me?" I muttered. "A celestial waiting room? Damned angels—"

A discreet cough. I turned to see a man and a woman standing half-turned toward me, as if I'd interrupted their conversation.

He was tall and dark-skinned, and she was also tall, with strawberry blond hair. Neither would have been out of place on the cover of any fashion magazine… if they wore something more fashionable. But both wore garments of a diaphanous fabric the same luminous pearl white as the walls. The woman wore a toga that left one shoulder bare, while the man was dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and billowing pants.

I've heard of people looking so healthy they glowed, but these two literally did; their skin gave off an unearthly shimmer.

"Eve," the woman said, her beautiful voice leaving no doubt that she was a full-blooded angel.

"Uh, yes," I said, suddenly flustered. "I'm looking—"

"For Trsiel," the man said. "He gave you the code to come here?"

When I nodded, the two exchanged a look that I was sure was more than a look. They were speaking to each other telepathically, like the wraith-clerks did. Did full-blooded angels naturally communicate by telepathy? I'd never considered that with Trsiel, but then, except for the voice and picture-perfect beauty, he and these two seemed like members of different species.

"Is Trsiel… around?" I asked. "He was supposed to meet me here but—"

"But he is late."

The woman gave the barest shake of her head, as if this wasn't surprising. She looked at the man and they communicated something. The man looked over at me.

"I will find him," he said.

"Find who?" Trsiel swung through the doorway, still dressed in the cargo pants and jersey he'd been wearing earlier.

"We need to get you a watch," I said.

He grinned, eyes glinting. "At least this time you aren't dueling anyone." He saw the others. Dismay flickered across his face, but he forced it back with another jaunty smile. "Have you guys been introduced?"

"No, we guys have not," the woman said.

"Eve, this is Shekinah." He gestured at the woman, then nodded at the man. "And Balthial. Eve is—"