So Japh had come here our first night in town. Right after I'd visited Gabe, he'd left me with McKinley, and I'd been dead asleep. Goddammit, Japh. How could you?

I found myself in a long, high-ceilinged room full of dimness and a crawling breathless sense of evil. My right hand closed around my swordhilt; Selene held up both white hands, her sweater sleeves falling back and exposing delicate wrists, both scarred with old, white ridged tissue. Nichtvren don't usually scar. Where are those from? "Easy there, Valentine. It's just the items." She pitched the words deliberately low, deliberately soothing. She did have a beautiful voice, beautiful as the rest of her.

"Items?" There were glass display cases, some of them holding full bookshelves. A cold exhaled breath of something cruelly evil behind all that glass touched my skin, and I felt it struggle to open one yellow eye before retreating, watching balefully.

"Nikolai collects cursed objects. Says it's better for them to be out of the way." She dropped her hands. "There's something here you should have."

"You're going to give me a cursed object?" I made my hand unclench from the swordhilt. My fingers almost creaked. The Gauntlet's weight grew colder, a shiver jolting up my arm and stopping at the scar in the hollow of my shoulder. The sense of being watched lessened, but still was enough to keep me on edge.

"No. This is where he keeps the demonology books too. I've been studying since we last met. Besides, this is the one place his thralls don't come. We won't be overheard." She glanced over my shoulder at the door. "This way."

I followed her. There, on a high shelf, a spider-shaped idol made of obsidian shifted restlessly as I glanced at it. A venomously glowing yellow orb pulsed on a shelf underneath it. Off to my left, a vaguely hover-shaped thing sat draped in a dustcloth. A rusted bucket perched in a glass case, exhaling desperate sadness.

"Sekhmet sa'es," I breathed. "He collects these? Doesn't he care about the curses?"

"He says he's cursed enough, what does one more matter? Regrettable pessimist, that man. I keep trying to get him to loosen up and have a little fun. Here we are." She stopped, brushed a tendril of dark-blonde hair out of her face. "Dante, there's something else Tiens said, right before I sent him out to find you."

We faced a cube of glass. Inside sat a three-foot-high shelf of leatherbound books. I looked for a hinge or a door, any way into the glass. "What? How are you going to-"

Her slender fist struck with enviable grace. I wouldn't have been surprised to hear a kia. Instead, she brushed the glass-real glass, not plasglass-from her hand. The entire case crumpled, shivering with a lovely tinkling sound.

"Tiens said the Eldest prizes your happiness and wants you kept unharmed. That's a big thing when it comes to demons."

Prizes my happiness? He's certainly not making me happy with this run-off-and-leave-me-alone business. But my heart gave a funny, melting little skip. "Oh, wow." I couldn't dredge up anything spectacular to say.

She knelt, her knees crunching on glass. Ran her finger along the bottom edge of books. "I was curious after our last meeting. Did some quiet asking around. You wouldn't believe what I paid for this, Esmerelda drives a hard bargain…. Here it is." A slim volume almost fell into her hands. "Hedaraie Occasus Demonae. The only copy in the world. It's rumored to be written by one of the last of the Fallen demons, back before they all died in some catastrophe or another. I can't translate it, but maybe you can."

She reached her feet in one smooth movement. My shields thickened reflexively against the danger in the air. Some of the things in here probably weren't asleep.

Some of the curses in here probably never slept.

"Do you know anything else?" My heart beat thinly in my throat.I don't like the picture I'm beginning to get. "Just that it's hard to get anyone to talk about the Fallen. Demons don't like to, the Magi can't force them into talking, and Magi won't let a Nichtvren in on their secrets. And nobody knows what's going on with Magi dying and imps running around causing damage. Nikolai's fit to be tied." Her dark-blue eyes were amused. "I do know a few things, though. You're stronger than human, faster than human, and capable of using your Fallen's Power. You're his link to this world, if something happens to you… She shook her head, the weight of her gold-streaked hair swinging.

"So I'm basically a hostage if any other demon gets hold of me." And here I was thinking everyone was in love with my sweet disposition and charming smile. "Great."

"I suppose so." Her eyes were shadowed, now. "I was a hostage once, Dante. It's not comfortable. If I could give, you one piece of advice?"

Oh, go ahead. I can't stop you. "What?" I tried to sound gracious.

"Don't be too hard on your Fallen. He's… well, he was very worried about your safety, from what I heard before he and Nik switched to Russian." She held the book, swinging it gently, the edge of its cover bumping her hip. "Be kind to the Eldest. Do you know why demons Fall?"

If he was so damn worried, why did he leave me alone with McKinley? Be kind to him? He lies to me, manipulates me-and you're saying to be kind? "They don't talk about it." He says it's love. If this is love, I'll take a sparring session.

Her smile was wonderful, just a curve of her beautiful lips, her eyes turning inward. "They give up Hell for the love of a mortal. It makes them helpless, and if there's one thing a demon hates, it's helplessness."

"How did you-" How long did it take you to find that out? Not as long as me, I'd bet. And demons aren't the only ones who hate being helpless.

"I've twisted a few arms." Selene pressed the book into my hands. "Be careful with this. Now listen, you'd better get out of here. Go to the clinic on Fortieth and Napier. Ask for Mercy or Annette-they were working with your friend's husband. And for God's sake be careful, there's a price on your head. Nikolai and I will do all we can to keep the werecain and other paranormals off your back, but it's tricky. There's a lot of mercenaries in town, and we can't interfere too directly in a human affair or in anything involving demons. So don't trust anyone. If you need a safe place to sleep, go to the House of Love on-"

"Polyamour's?" I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "She's mixed up in this?"

"No, she's not. Which is why she's safe. She also has something for you-but after you take care of your business." She paused. "I wish I could go with you. It's been ages since anything really exciting happened."

"Yeah, well." I've been abandoned by my demon lover, hit with hovers and reaction fire, and strangled by the Devil-again. Not to mention chased by hellhaunds and nearly duped by a dumbass werecain. You can have the excitement, I'll take being bored. "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

Her elegant nose wrinkled. "I remember enough excitement to value boredom too. It's just wishful-" Selene cocked her head. "Oh, lovely. Here comes Nikolai. Hurry. Up the stairs there, go through the third door on the left. It's only a two-story drop, and that window has a malfunctioning security latch. I was saving it for the next time I go out dancing. One last thing, Dante: don't trust anyone. Including me. Demons are in town, and nobody's safe when they get involved."

Don't I know it. "Thank you," I managed. "You're honorable." Polyamour has something for me? Of course. Comprehension bloomed under my skin. I'd been stupid; not guessing it. One less thing to worry about.

She waved it away. "Go. I'll delay Nik and Tiens."