The lead demon—Belial, apparently—ignored Kade’s toadying. Instead, a light smile creased the demon’s bloodless skin.

“You’re looking well,” Belial continued, addressing me. “Much prettier than when my colleagues met you in New Orleans.”

At the mention of New Orleans, I began to struggle—however ineffectively—to free myself from Kade’s grasp. I’d wounded a huge number of demons in New Orleans . . . maybe even destroyed them, judging by the fact that a legion had come to attack me and only a few were left to retreat. Suddenly, I could see the demons’ true intentions: they’d created this little game to lure me into turning myself over to them, so that they could punish me for what I’d done. They didn’t want a new servant—they wanted revenge.

Even as I struggled, Belial continued talking. “However pretty you look tonight,” he said, sighing grimly, “the fact remains that we require blood. From either you, or one of your compatriots. Someone goes with us tonight. I’m afraid those are the rules we’ve set out . . . and God forbid we break them.”

His reference to God elicited a chilling round of laughter from the other demons. Belial bowed his head to each side of their formation, acknowledging that they’d picked up on his joke. Then he turned back to me.

“So, Amelia, what’s it to be?”

“I can’t . . . with his arms . . . so tight.”

I cringed and stretched, as if to emphasize the fact that I couldn’t fully answer them under such constraints. Seeing this, Belial jerked his head at Kade, and immediately, my bonds loosened. Even without seeing his face, I could tell Kade didn’t want to release me. But like the well-trained dog he was, he obeyed his master and let me go.

I made a show of rubbing my arms, as if their comfort was the thing that would help me make my decision.

“Okay,” I said, more to myself than the demons. “You need a life, right? That’s what you’re taking tonight, no matter what?”

Belial didn’t speak, but he bowed his head in mock civility.

“Any life?” I pressed.

The demon smiled, flashing his sharp, glistening teeth—far more than any human mouth contained. “Well, I’m sure that will suffice. Of course, we’d prefer your life. But if you feel like turning over one of your friends as this week’s offering . . . maybe you are the girl we’d like you to be.”

I smiled back demurely, batting my eyes at him. “I guess I am that girl, since I think you should take someone else in my place.”

“Consider it done,” Belial crowed, clapping his hands together. “We’ll even let you pick!”

My smile widened into something dark and twisted. “I was hoping you’d say that,” I hissed. Then, before the demons could react, I yanked the serrated knife from my belt, spun around, and plunged the blade deep into Kade LaLaurie’s heart.

Chapter

SEVENTEEN

I’d stabbed Kade without thinking about the consequences. To be honest, I didn’t even think it would work. Like Ruth had said, I could blood-let, but I didn’t think I would actually be able to use a solid, living-world weapon against Kade.

Apparently, I was wrong.

After I sank the knife into him, Kade sputtered for a few, stunned seconds. Then a trail of bright, arterial-red blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Nowhere else, though—the knife wound in his chest never bled.

He reached up, digging his fingers painfully into my upper arm. They loosened when his entire body began to stiffen. His back went rigid, his fingers drew up into claws, and his face froze into a permanent, ghastly scream; it was exactly what I imagined rigor mortis would look like. When his cold gray eyes whitened over, he let out a final, gargled sound and then fell backward.

By the time he hit the surface of the bridge, Kade LaLaurie was nothing but a months-old corpse with my knife in its chest; a ghost ended once and for all. And I didn’t feel the least bit sorry about it.

With grim resolve, I turned to face the demon horde. But to my surprise, they weren’t preparing to attack me. They didn’t even look angry . . . not exactly, anyway. Their solidly black eyes had widened to even more inhuman proportions, and their smiles had grown ravenous. Lustful, in fact.

Finally, after a few more seconds of slavering, the demon named Belial made a small noise that sounded an awful lot like laughter.

“That was unexpected, Amelia. And—I have to say—absolutely delightful.” The demons behind him murmured in agreement, each of them moving a fraction closer to me.

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Belial went on. “Violent deaths always make us a little . . . tipsy, let’s call it.” He chuckled lightly, as if their sudden bloodlust was charming. Then his smile turned pensive. “You know, Amelia, with instincts like yours, it’s no wonder that the light has given you such unique . . . gifts.”

“What are you talking about?” I spat. “The light hasn’t done anything for me.”

Once more the demon assessed me, but this time I saw a glint of doubt in his black eyes.

“Oh, it’s clear that the light chose you as a vessel for the task,” he mused, not really answering me. “But poor Kade aside, I’m still not entirely certain why. Eli and Kade were strong, wild, and hungry; both were willing to kill, and to die. You, however . . .” He paused and then passed another questioning glance over me. “I just don’t think your heart is in this fight.”

Serena’s taunts in the graveyard rose, unbidden, in my mind. So it was true, then: the demons had never wanted to acquire me. At best, they wanted to end me; at worst, imprison me for an eternity of torment in the darkness.

“I’m not weak,” I said firmly, taking a small step toward Belial. “You may think that, but you’re wrong. The reluctance to kill people isn’t weakness. Neither is love.”

“In our world,” Belial whispered, “love is most certainly a weakness.”

As if on a cue, a chorus of whooping howls filled the air. Belial smiled again, but he could no longer mask what he truly was: pure darkness; pure evil. When I heard a familiar voice, calling to me from the entrance of the bridge, I knew why Belial had smiled, and a cold ball of dread settled into my stomach.

“Amelia?” Joshua shouted from the entrance of High Bridge. “Amelia, Ruth and I can’t cross onto the bridge to get you—you have to run!”

I wanted to run to him, wanted us both to escape. But I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off the demon’s taunting smile.

“I told you,” Belial continued to whisper to me, “we will have a life tonight. One of our own certainly doesn’t count. So I’m afraid the person you love most will just have to take your place.”

All of a sudden, a mass of wraiths swarmed up over the edge of the bridge and began to fly toward the entrance. Whatever power Belial had over my gaze, it broke at that moment. I whirled away from him and screamed.

“Joshua, run!”

I only had time to catch his horrified gaze when the wraiths converged upon him like a wave. They would kill him in seconds, I knew it. I whipped back around to the demons, my heart hammering so hard that I could hardly gasp, “Me. Take me inst—”

“No,” Ruth’s commanding shout interrupted my surrender. “You’ll take neither of them.”

Belial, who had been watching me intently this entire time, allowed his head to swivel leisurely toward Ruth. I could see something register in his eyes, and a slow, disquieting smile spread across his face. He raised one hand and, with a simple flick of his wrist, the swarm of wraiths fell away from Joshua, who fell gasping to his knees. Then Belial gestured grandly to Ruth.