"My mum is a Guardian, too," Noelle answered quickly. "I have oodles of experience, really I do. And it's not usually too exacting a job, you know? An exorcism here, sealing a portal to hell there, destroying the odd demon or two—doesn't take up much space on the schedule, leaving lots of time for my real work."

I couldn't help but ask. I just couldn't help it. "What would that be?"

"I'm writing the definitive work on werefolk."

"Werefolk?"

"Yes, you know, werewolves, werecats, werebeetles, that sort of thing. They're a fascinating people, really."

I made a mental note to keep Raphael from meeting Noelle anytime in the future. "It sounds fascinating, yes, but I really must be running along. There's only"—I looked at my watch—"two more hours until sunrise, and I have Christian to save. I hate to leave you. Are you sure you'll be all right here by yourself?"

She blinked at me. "Of course. Why shouldn't I?"

I waved at Sarra. "Well… that is a demon after all, and a powerful one at that…"

She wrinkled her nose and waved me off. "Don't worry about it; I have the situation under control."

I heaved a mental sigh of relief that yet another catastrophe had been averted, and gathered up my bag to leave.

"Oh, Allie?" I turned at the door to look back at Noelle. Sarra twisted until it was snarling in my direction. I sidestepped the bucket that was sent flying toward me.

"The sacrifice that Asmodeus is bound to be looking for?"

I nodded.

"It won't be that of a Dark One. It'll be his Beloved."

That was it; I had reached my saturation point. Nothing else could surprise me. I had seen it all and heard it all. I stared at her for a minute, then nodded again and numbly made my way upstairs.

Fine. Asmodeus wanted me to sacrifice myself for Christian. Roxy had told me it would come down to my making a sacrificial gesture; she'd just never told me it was going to be to a friggin' demon lord!

I pushed open the basement door and stepped into the dark hallway, which was now no longer filled with demon smoke.

Instead it was filled with real smoke.

"There you are," Mrs. Turner said, turning to address me. She was standing by the front door, wearing a pair of Wellington boots, a pink velour bathrobe, and an expression that would give the Hound of the Baskervilles pause. A long, thick yellow hose snaked in through the front door, curled around Mrs. Turner, headed down the hall, and disappeared into a door at the far end. "The kitchen is on fire."

"Is it." My left eyelid twitched. She flinched in response and quickly averted her eyes from mine.

"I just thought you would like to know."

"Ah. Is it serious?"

"The firemen are here now. They say not."

"Okay. I'll be back later. With Christian. Or not. It depends on just what the sacrifice consists of. His friend is upstairs in his bedroom. Please don't disturb him." I thought for a moment. "And don't be surprised if you hear the TV turning itself on and off in Christian's study."

Mrs. Turner's lips tightened into a grim line.

"And there might be some screaming and unearthly noises coming from the basement. Just ignore them as well."

She tightened the belt to her bathrobe.

"I'll be off then. If neither Christian or I return by nightfall, would you contact Raphael St. John at St. John Security Services? It'll be in the phone book. I'm sure he and Joy and Roxy will figure out something to do with Sebastian and the others. Well…" I looked out through the open door and noticed it was pouring, absolutely pouring buckets, a veritable deluge of wind and rain and nasty little bits of ice. "What a lovely morning. I believe I'll walk to the taxi stand."

Mrs. Turner turned on her heel and marched off to her room, muttering to herself and slamming the door behind her. I traced the most powerful protection ward I knew into the wetness on the rain-slicked front door, and headed off into the raging monsoon to save the man whose life had become so inexorably bound to mine.

"Hi. I'm Allie. I think you have something of mine," I said to the ARMPIT who opened the door to the Trust's London house. "He's about six foot one, has long black hair, and favors O-negative."

The thin blond woman pursed her lips and moved aside so I could enter. I stopped at the boundaries of the binding ward and gave it a good look. It was different from the ones I'd seen before, much more intricate. I doubted if I would be able to undraw it without time to study it. I pushed through the ward and entered the house, my four accompanying wards immediately burning green.

"Those will not help you," Phillippa said from where she stood at the foot of a long, curved staircase.

"Probably not, but I feel better with them anyway. I don't suppose you'd be at all inclined to take me to wherever you're keeping Christian?"

She strolled past me, throwing open a pair of double doors. "Keeping Christian? We are not holding the Dark One prisoner, if that's what you believe. I will ask him if he wishes to see you."

"You do that little thing," I said, probably a mite more testily than was wise, but I was alternating between terror at being in such close contact with something of terrible power the likes of which I'd never felt before, and anger that Christian was being held by such rotten people. I edged around her until I could peer in through the doorway to the room beyond. She tsked in an annoyed fashion and went off down the dark hallway toward the back of the house.

"Ah, the Beloved has arrived," Eduardo said behind me. He leaned lazily against the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, then strutted toward me, ushering me into what looked like a library. The walls were ceiling-to-floor books, with two large desks set up at either end of the room, the long center wall backing a cluster of wine-colored leather couches and chairs. Above a marble fireplace two huge broadswords were crossed, surrounded by a number of smaller swords and wicked-looking daggers.

Someone clearly had issues, and I was sure I knew who it was.

"Most unusual eyes. I see why you kept them hidden. I should like the opportunity to examine the relationship between their curious colors and the range of your abilities. I must confess, Allegra Telford, I had expected you earlier."

"I was held up. I had to feed the Dark One you've been starving, and then there was a little trouble with a demon that you sent earlier."

He tutted and waved me toward a chair. I rested my bag on my hip and stood where I was, my arms crossed, ready to move quickly if the need should arrive. Eduardo seated himself on one of the couches, crossing his legs so as to display a pair of pale salmon socks. I don't know why I found them so funny, but just the sight of them had me snorting silently to myself.

"Ah, yes, Sebastian. I thought he might enter into our discussion."

"If you think I'm going to give him back in exchange for Christian, you're crazy. I wouldn't leave a goldfish in your care."

Eduardo waved a languid hand. "But my dear, we have no further need for Sebastian. You may do with him as you will. Once it was determined he would not suit, his role simply became that of bait. It brought us exactly what we wanted."

I thought furiously. "Why would you prefer Christian over Sebastian? They're both the same, both Dark Ones, only Christian—" I stopped dead, Noelle's parting words ringing in my ears.

Eduardo nodded. "Christian has a Beloved; Sebastian did not. Hence the need to wait until Christian tracked poor Sebastian to this location."

"Wait a minute," I said, seeing the mistake in his statement. "You couldn't possibly have known that Christian had a Beloved when you nabbed Sebastian, or even when you realized Sebastian didn't have one. I've only known Christian for a few days."