“Well-matched, the pair of you. Very well, Tierce Japhrimel. Seven years, full control, and my protection sworn on my own ineffable Name for the miserable Necromance, for eternity. I accept your other terms.” His voice was brittle as glass. “Is there aught else?”

I could have left it there. I should have, Japhrimel’s arm tightened around me. But I couldn’t help myself. “Eve,” I said.

Lucifer’s entire body tensed. “Be very careful,” he warned me, in a chill, beautiful, hurtful voice. “You do not know what you say.”

I cleared my throat. If the Devil truly needed me, I had a way to erase at least one name from my long list of failures. “Freedom for Doreen’s daughter, Lucifer. That’s my condition, on top of Japhrimel’s.” My lips skinned back from my teeth. There comes a point past which terror gives you a crazy type of courage; maybe I’d reached it.

His eyes blazed. He took a single step forward, the shadows in the cathedral suddenly pulling close, red eyes glowing in the dimness, the susurrus of flame or wings beating in the vaulted space.

I didn’t see Japhrimel move, but he was suddenly a little in front of me, his shoulder pushing me aside and back. That put him mostly between me and the Devil, and my heart thumped sickly against my ribs at the thought of him facing down Lucifer. “Enough, Prince.” His voice cut through the thunderstorm of Power. “Have we reached agreement?”

“Seven years. Full control. Protection for her. And you, Japhrimel, restored to your place of pride in the Greater Flight. I agree.”

My heart slammed into my throat. I couldn’t help myself. I looked up at Japhrimel, who was utterly still, pale under his golden skin. What the fuck? The full meaning of the words slammed home.

“Done.” Japhrimel’s jaw tightened after the word. His eyes flared, angular green runic shapes sliding through the darkness.

“Done,” Lucifer repeated. His eyes turned to me.

Oh, gods. Gods, no. He’s going back to Hell, I thought numbly. What did he just do? But Eve—

“I am waiting for your agreement, Necromance.” Lucifer’s voice turned silky. “I counsel you to take this bargain; it is the best you will receive from me.”

“Done,” I said, tonelessly, shocked. I had no choice—Japhrimel had already agreed, and if I pushed it, he might not be able to keep Lucifer from ripping me a new spleen or two.

Trust me, Dante. Do not doubt me.

The first rule of dealing with nonhumans: their idea of truth isn’t the same as ours. Maybe Japh had grown tired of hanging out with a damaged human, maybe I’d pushed him too hard. He’d maneuvered me into agreeing, played me neatly as a synthesizer. Eve’s freedom wasn’t a part of the bargain.

It hit me again, like a thunder-roll after lightning. Japhrimel was going home to Hell for a while, and I was sold to the Devil for seven years.

Great.

Lucifer’s elegant lip lifted in a sneer. “Send her away, Tierce Japhrimel. I will wait.”

I didn’t struggle, but Japhrimel had to drag me away, my boots scraping the floor. The last I saw of Lucifer, he had turned back to the altar, his golden hand resting on the rail again. His black-clad back rippled, as if some force streamed away from him. “Fools,” he hissed, and I wondered if he meant humans in general, or demons, or just me.

Japhrimel closed the cathedral door behind us, hauling me into the smoky dark of a Venizia night as if I weighed nothing. The whine of hovercells settled against my bones again, not only because of the city but because a sleek black hoverlimo was now waiting, a plasteel stepladder flowing down from the side entrance to touch the cathedral’s steps.

Oh, look. Mad glee bubbled hot and acid in my throat. The boys send Dante home in style. Pack the human off until we need to use her again.

“Go home,” Japhrimel said. “Wait for me.”

“Wait for what? You’re coming back?” I asked numbly. Or maybe I just thought it, a roaring filled my head. My bag bumped my hip, and I was glad I’d suited up. If I’d had to deal with this without my weapons I would have started to scream. “Wait a second—Japhrimel—” My fingers tightened around the sword. If I drew it now, what would he do? What could I do?

“There is no time for explanations, Dante. Do as I say.”

“You asked to go back to Hell? Is that what happened? Are you coming back?” This time I was sure I’d spoken, but I didn’t recognize the small, wounded voice as mine.

He made a short sound of annoyance and dragged me down the steps. Something hard and clawed rose in my throat, I closed my teeth against it. Denied it.

I’m not going to cry. It doesn’t hurt. I am not going to cry. It doesn’t hurt.

Number one rule for anyone who practices magick, don’t ever lie to yourself. I knew, with miserable clarity, that I was breaking that rule. “You bastard. Are you going back to Hell? For how long? What’s going on? At least say it out loud if you’re not coming back, at least tell me, the least you could do is tell me—” Instead of sounding angry, I only sounded tired. Curious numbness spread through my chest. Numbness like metal must feel when a blowtorch kisses it.

Japhrimel stopped. He caught my shoulders, and before I could back up he pressed a hard, closed kiss on my mouth. I would have struggled, would have tried to break free, but his hands were like steel claws.

“Listen to me.” His voice held none of the plasgun-charge of Power he’d used inside. Instead, he sounded carefully restrained, almost human. His eyes were full of green sparks, dancing in their depths like fireflies. “I will come for you. I will always come for you. Wait for me at home, do not open the door to anyone. I will be with you soon. Now go.”

What could I say to that? I simply stared at him, my fingers nerveless-tight around my sword.

He shoved me up the steps and into the hover. “Go, and wait for me,” he repeated, then leapt back down from the steps. I collapsed on the pleather seat, all the strength running out of my legs. The door closed, I heard the whine-rattle of the hovercells beginning to take on flight frequency.

What just happened in there? If he goes back to Hell and leaves me alone, how long will I last against four Greater Flight demons? What did he really ask Lucifer for? I thought he couldn’t go back! The thought rose like bad gas in a reactive-painted shaft. I let out a choked sound that rattled the glasses in the rack over the wet bar.

The driver didn’t speak. I wondered for a lunatic moment if it was one of Hell’s human agents or just autopilot.

He’s going back to Hell. For how long? When will he come back? Soon, he said. What’s a demon’s idea of soon?

Abandoned. Again. All my life I’ve been left behind—by parents, lovers, friends. I’d thought this time was different. Would I ever learn?

I scooted over as the hover rose, pressed my forehead to the window. I had one glimpse of Japhrimel, his face upturned like a golden dish, standing on the cathedral steps and watching as the hover rose into the night sky. His black coat fell down, melded with the shadow lying over the steps, then he was gone.

Vanished. Back into the cathedral.

Back to Lucifer.

Back to Hell.

I collapsed back against the seat. The trembling got worse, running through my bones like hoverwhine.

“Gods,” I breathed, and closed my eyes.

It wasn’t numbness burning cold inside my chest.

It was a pain so immense I immediately drove my fingernails of my left hand into my palm, squeezing my hand with every erg of demon-given strength. My rings popped and snapped, a shower of golden sparks filling the air. Panic. I was panicking. Stop it. Ride the pain, Dante; come back, get a grip on yourself. Get a goddamn grip. You’re alive. You’re still alive.