"It left Sarajevo, we don't know where for. McKinley says there's something going on in Kalif that sounds suspicious, but I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to look there. We're collating the reports right now. I'd bet it's following the route with no problems." His tone, as usual when he spoke to Japh, was utterly respectful and curiously unafraid.

Japhrimel nodded thoughtfully. His thumb moved on my arm, a gentle absent caress, and I cast back through memory to piece this together.

Something had been in DMZ Sarajevo, something Japhrimel had wanted to collect. The Anhelikos-a feathered thing living in an old abandoned temple-had told him it had been taken to the Roof of the World, whatever that was.

Thinking about Sarajevo made a shiver go through me, suddenly cold in the climate-controlled interior. A town full of paranormals and Lucifer's fingers closing around my windpipe-my belly was still a little tender from the Devil's last kick. A parting gift.

Japh's thumb moved again, soothing. "The treasure is moving," he said meditatively. "Such a thing has not happened for millennia."

"Millennia?" Vann didn't sound surprised. He scratched at his bruised face with blunt fingertips, grimacing slightly. "You're sure about the route?" It was rhetorical instead of doubting.

Japh shrugged, a fluid lovely movement. "I was the one to leave it with Kos Rafelos, and it had just left his care when I arrived. The game has begun. Now it is the Key they will seek."

Key? What key? And who's they? I didn't say it out loud, but Japhrimel glanced at me, as if gauging how much he should say. I swallowed sudden impatience. He'd earned a little bit of slack, though I still wasn't happy about being shaken like a naughty puppy and held up against the wall in a Sarajevo subway station. The thought of him using his superior strength to force me to do something still filled me with a combination of unsteady rage and sick anticipation, as if bracing myself for a gutshot.

But he had kept Lucifer away long enough to give me a chance to heal my shattered psyche. He had hidden me so well other rebellious demons couldn't find me, and even lied to the Prince of Hell to protect me.

Not only that, but he'd given up all chance of returning to his home. For me.

He had, indeed, earned a little slack.

I bit back impatience and simply listened, my eyes moving over the graceful curve of balustrade going upstairs. Go figure. Danny Valentine, holding her tongue for once. Let's mark it on the calendar and call the holovid reporters; it's a frocking miracle.

Vann made a sudden movement, as if he couldn't contain himself. The leather fringe on his jacket swayed, whispering. "You're just going to let her walk around? You know what they're after. If they take her, it could mean the end of everything."

That brought my eyes around in a hurry, but he stared at Japhrimel, whose gaze had gone distant, focused on the far wall of the foyer, an intricately-carved screen showing the fresh green coolness of the garden beyond. His thumb moved again, caressing my upper arm.

"My lord." Vann gave me a nervous glance, forged ahead. "It might be better to act first and apologize later. This is dangerous. Truly dangerous."

"Act first, apologize later." Japh sounded thoughtful. "What do you think of that, Dante?"

He's actually asking what I think? Another banner occasion. Call the holovid reporters again. "Sounds risky," I answered, carefully. "If who takes her? And what's the Key?" And what the bloody blue fuck are we talking about here? Me?

Vann's cheeks actually flushed. "My lord." He was beginning to sound desperate. Was he sweating? "I've served you for years and never questioned your orders or methods. But this is dangerous. If he finds out, he'll kill her, and possibly the rest of your vassals too."

Japhrimel shrugged. "At present I am too valuable for him to risk anything of the sort."

"Vassals?" My voice cut across his. "He who? Lucifer? Kill me? He's already tried. If he finds out what?" Served Japhrimel for years? That's news, too.

Vann winced when I spoke the Devil's name. I didn't blame him, but I was too busy staring up at Japh's profile to worry about his tender feelings. "Japhrimel?" I heard the quiet, deadly tone in my voice. "Care to shed some light on this? I'm a little lost."

I thought he wouldn't answer, but he blinked, as if returning from a long and unpleasant chain of thought. "This is not the place for such a discussion," he said, finally, slowly. Choosing his words with great care, a tone I'd rarely heard from him before. "I would prefer to see to your comfort first, and explain privately. For now, will it satisfy you if I say you have suddenly become far more important to the Prince than even he realizes, and Vann is worried because your life is so very precious?" His eyes flashed green as he turned his head slightly, looking down at me with a very faint, iron-clad smile touching his lips. "If you are taken or killed, I will be unable to protect those whose allegiance lies with me, and they may find it… worrisome."

I don't think I've ever been struck so speechless, and that's saying something. I am normally not the type of girl to be at a loss for words. I turned this around in my head once or twice, the mark on my shoulder pulsing softly again with velvet heat. Then I realized he hadn't answered either of my questions.

Still, that's more than he's given me since this whole mess began. I suppose it's a step up. I thought it over, and Vann visibly braced himself.

What does he think I'm going to do? "Okay." I nodded, sharply, once. My hair fell over my shoulders, tumbled in my face. "I'm going to go get something to eat. Come along when you're finished, and you can explain to me over breakfast."

Japhrimel shook his head. "I would prefer to explain in private, Dante." He paused. "If it would please you to accede."

Well, I can't very well argue with that, can I? We were being so very careful with each other; I might have burst out laughing if it hadn't been so deadly serious. "Sure. After breakfast, then. We'll head up to our room and you can explain everything."

Vann was crimson under his bruises. He also looked shocked. I got the idea he wasn't used to hearing Japhrimel express a preference instead of just telling someone what to do. I was pretty surprised myself. And pleased. He was trying, at least.

Japh nodded. "As you like." He let go of me slowly, reluctantly, and I found myself smiling as I backed up two steps, then turned and headed for the small café, an unaccustomed light feeling under my breastbone.

To my surprise, Lucas Villalobos sat at one of the tables, his almost-yellow eyes wide open as he looked over a menu. He'd cleaned up, gotten out of his blood-stiff rags and into a fresh microfiber shirt and jeans, bandoliers crossing his narrow chest and his lank hair lying clean and damp against his shoulders. He had his two 60-watt plasguns, and the river of scarring down the left side of his face looked pink and rough-scrubbed.

He looked none the worse for wear despite being almost eviscerated by the Prince of Hell.

Just how fast did the Deathless heal, anyway?

I scuffed the floor deliberately as I threaded between tables and finally dropped into the chair opposite him, my sword resting in its scabbard across my lap. He was working for me, but still… he was Lucas. It doesn't pay to be lazy even around people you employ. "Hey." Gods, I'm grinning like an idiot. Japhrimel asked me, he asked me, he's treating me like an equal. Thank the gods.

Lucas's eyes flicked over me once, descended back to the menu. "Valentine." His whispering, ruined voice almost hurt my own throat. "Where's your pet demon?"