“Your daughter?” My voice rose, the sun-disk rocking back on its stand, squealing. “Your daughter?”

“Mine,” Lucifer replied silkily. “The human matrix means nothing, Dante. Only the Androgyne matters.”

She isn’t yours. She’s Doreen’s, and you stole her. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” I snarled. “No way. Go fuck yourself, Lucifer, if it will reach.” I spun on my heel, static gathering on the air, and would have stalked away with my back exposed if Japhrimel had not caught my arm.

He said something to Lucifer in their demon tongue, sliding consonants and harsh, hurtful vowels. I stared up at Japhrimel’s face, his hand burning on my arm—he didn’t squeeze, but his grasp was firm enough that I knew he meant business. He wouldn’t have broken my arm, but he would have kept me there, and an undignified struggle in front of the Devil wasn’t something I wanted.

What the hell was he saying? I didn’t even know what hedaira meant. All I knew of demon language was Japhrimel’s name and the hissing sibilance of their word for no. And, oddly enough, the word for sunlight.

Lucifer made a reply. Not even his golden voice could make that language sound good.

Japhrimel asked something else, the intonation clearly a question.

Lucifer’s reply was brief and pointed enough that I looked from Japhrimel back to him, craning my neck.

This went on for a few minutes, question and reply; the horrible sound of that tongue crawling along my skin with prickling venomous feet. Finally, Japhrimel said something quietly, and the Prince of Hell’s lip curled. He nodded, once, curtly. His eyes were bright and avid, resting on me. I felt the weight of that gaze like a load of coldly poisonous sedation, flooding my veins and making me shiver.

Japhrimel looked down at me, his eyes flaring green again for a moment. “Very well,” he said quietly. “A moment to speak to my hedaira, Prince.”

“Granted.” Lucifer eyed both of us, then turned away to look back up at the sun-disk. He wore a very slight, very nasty smile that dried up all the spit in my mouth.

Japhrimel dragged me down the aisle a few steps, his coat separating in front, then spread his wings slightly and drew me in. He rested his chin atop my head. Dante. It was a calm, quiet sound in the very middle of my head, a thread of meaning. We have no choice.

Bullshit. We had a choice. There was always a choice. I closed my eyes, rested my forehead against his bare chest. Fine tremors walloped through me, each successive wave beating at the cocoon of Power Japhrimel held me in. My sword hilt dug into my ribs, I held the blade with creaking knuckles.

Japh’s voice continued, inexorable. Either we bargain with the Prince, or we make an enemy of him as well as of the demons that have escaped his control. At least if we bargain with him we have a chance of continuing our life together.

I didn’t want to “bargain.” I wanted Lucifer to leave us alone. I got the distinct impression that if I made any bargain with the Prince of Hell, I’d come off as badly as I had last time—crippled, barely alive, and possibly with another long, despairing time of trying to resurrect Japhrimel on my hands. Or the whole thing could end up with both of us dead, and no way was I in the market for that.

Then let me negotiate. I have, after all, bargained before.

I swallowed, let out a soft breath against his skin. Felt his sudden attention as his arms tightened, pressing me against his body. His fingers traced up my back through my clothes, a wave of familiar fire curling through me. He was taller, his shoulders broad, and with his wings around me I was completely enclosed. The small shudder of response—the proof that I affected him—comforted me much more than it probably should have.

“Fine,” I whispered. “You go ahead, then.” We weren’t in Hell, the rule about him not talking probably didn’t apply. Besides, he was more likely to come out ahead when it came to fencing verbally with the Devil.

He nodded, his chin moving against my hair. “Courage, hedaira,” he said very softly, mouthing the words. I shivered.

I have plenty of courage. I just don’t have any assurance Lucifer isn’t going to turn on us both.

Japhrimel led me back to the altar rail and waited until Lucifer faced us, green eyes sliding over us both. I saw a flash of something odd on the head demon’s face, just a flicker, his eyes darkening and his mouth turning down.

What the hell was that? Did Lucifer actually look guilty? Or envious?

Actually, I was betting on enraged. Or murderous.

Danny, your imagination just works too well.

“Five years of service,” Japhrimel said. “The full control of Hellesvront. Your word on your Name that you will protect Dante with every means at your disposal, forever.”

The Devil’s eyes closed slowly, opened again. Some essential tension leaked out of the air. Now it was a bargaining game, cat and mouse, bartering for my life. Well, last time I hadn’t been able to bargain; it had been pretty goddamn simple. Do what I tell you, or be killed. This was a step up.

Not really.

Lucifer countered. “Twenty years, with a meeting to discuss renewal. Full control of Hellesvront, and my friendship to Dante Valentine as long as her life lasts.”

“Seven years, full control, and swearing on your Name to protect her until eternity ends, Prince. That is nonnegotiable.”

“What else?” The Devil didn’t look amused now. As a matter of fact, he looked sour. It didn’t mar his beauty, but it fascinated me.

Japhrimel paused for only a moment. He said something in their language again, something very slow and distinct.

What the hell? I looked up at Japhrimel, then over at the Devil. What the hell is he doing?

Lucifer’s eyes glowed. I set my jaw, trying not to feel as if I was burrowing into Japhrimel’s side. Anubis, et’her ka, I prayed. Lord of Death, watch over me.

“You dare?” Lucifer snarled, his face suffusing with rage. If I could have made any sound at all I might have whimpered. I’d never seen the Devil truly angry before—and I didn’t want to. “Abomination.”

Japhrimel shrugged. “I learned too well from you. You should not have offered me freedom, Prince—even if you never intended to fulfill that offer.”

Oh, Anubis, don’t piss him off. I don’t want to see the Devil in a really bad mood. Japhrimel’s arm was tight and reassuring over my shoulder. He’d been the Devil’s assassin. If Lucifer lost his temper would Japh be able to get me out of here alive? I certainly hoped so. The entire temple vibrated with Lucifer’s anger, stone groaning and air swirling, freighted with a soundless fiery static. One of the pews cracked down the middle, the sound loud as a gunshot. I didn’t jump—but it was close.

Damn close.

“I would not have, if your service had not been exceptional.” Lucifer bit off the edges of the words. Then he darted a look at me, and I would have sworn his green eyes lit up with glee. The Power cloaking him swirled once, spread out to haze through the cathedral. “Well, Dante. What do you think of your Fallen now?”

I waited for Japhrimel to warn me not to reply, but he did nothing, standing curiously still. I cleared my throat. “I trust him a hell of a lot more than I trust you.” That, at least, was unequivocally true.

That made the Devil’s eyes light up. Was he actually looking mischievous? Wonders never ceased.

Then again, the Devil in a mood to play with his prey was not something I ever wanted to see, either. I was suddenly fiercely glad I wasn’t completely physically human anymore, for the very first time. A human would never have been able to stand the welter of razor-toothed Power in the air or the way Lucifer’s eyes suddenly drifted down to touch my throat. My heart gave an unsteady leap.