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  “Please, Maddy, tell me anything you remember.”

  After a moment, she says, “I don’t know where I went. It was dark and hard to see, but I found the demon that took hold of me. I touched him. That sent me home and sent him back to the City of the Damned.”

  My head whips up as I look at Tamitha and Alexander. The alarm in their eyes must mirror my own.

  Mortals don’t know the name of that place. I’ve never said it around Maddy. We rarely say it even amongst ourselves. That place is an abomination—a constant reminder of our darkest day. Perhaps the Influencer said it yesterday, and Maddy’s just repeating it now. I’d rather it be from him than this new demon.

  Only those in league with the Fallen refer to Hell by that name.

  My essence picks up inside Maddy, making sure she came back alone. She did.

  “Tell me about the demon,” I say. “Tell me what you remember about him so I can find him.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t remember him.”

  I frown and tilt my head. She touched the demon. She has to remember something.

  There’s no reason for her to protect him from me, yet she is. My essence picks up inside her, trying to figure this out. When my essence returns to me, my worry grows. I found nothing. I know the demon didn’t compel Maddy—she’s resistant to that ability. And she isn’t afraid, so that means the demon didn’t force her to lie under threats.

  “The demon from yesterday must have told this other demon about her,” Tamitha says.

  “Yes,” Alexander agrees. “What are the odds she would be attacked by two demons two days in a row? They’re connected.”

  Maddy shudders. “Justin—he’s still coming for me.”

  “Maddy,” I begin. Sorrow fills me. As much as I want to know why she’s covering for a demon, there are more pressing matters—her needs. “He won’t hurt you again. I promise. I don’t give a damn what that contract says.”

  “I didn’t sign it.”

  I can only blink.

  “The contract wasn’t signed. He doesn’t own me.”

  My body sags, freed of the weight the contract held over Maddy, over me, over us. I would have fought for her, but I know the odds of winning wouldn’t have been in our favor. I was terrified of losing her. Even now, I’m not foolish enough to believe we’re safe, but without the contract, at least we have a chance at a life together.

  Then my joy suddenly fades. “Did the demon tell you this? How do you know?” I ask. I want to believe her, but I don’t trust the source.

  Her eyes dim as she searches for what should be an easy answer. “I . . . I don’t know. I just do.”

  It’s all the proof I need.

  “It doesn’t matter how I know,” she continues. “You just can’t tell anyone else about me. It’s only a matter of time before more beings come for me. We need to be ready.”

  Whether I trust this new demon’s word, I know this much is true—more will come for her. They outnumber us twenty to one. Even if I keep her identity contained to our small team, at most she’ll stay a secret for a month. All my immortal gifts are meaningless if they cannot keep her safe.

  “I will do whatever it takes to keep you a secret,” I say. “Þú ert minn hvatvetna. Minn ást. Minn líf. Minn Maddy.”

  I meant every word. She is my everything. My love. My life. My Maddy.

  I look down at her with emotions I can’t even describe. “Ek ann þér,” I say softly.

  Curious green eyes meet mine. If she knew what those words meant, she would pull even farther away from me. She’s afraid of love. She doesn’t accept it from anyone and never gives it back. She isn’t ready to know how I feel about her just yet. But still I have to say it. I have to say the three words that terrify her.

  I love you.

  I hold her closer to me and kiss her forehead, breathing in her fruit-and-nature scent. “You’re safe now, minn hvatvetna,” I say, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You’re home.”

  At the word “home,” she unravels. Raindrops pelt the house.

  I wrap my arms around her again, holding her close. Tamitha and Alexander leave the room, though they’re still on guard. Sissy has been with Amber since she left the park. Not knowing what we’re up against has us all on high alert.

  I lay with Maddy, soothing her as best I can.

  This is the second demon that attacked her in less than a week. The first one tried to own her soul with a contract he shouldn’t have had access to in the first place. What is this one after? Who is he? Why can’t she remember him? How was he able to possess her? And the fire, the cracked concrete, the destruction, the power—was that him?

  Or Maddy?

  Chapter Twelve

  Justin

  My fist hovers in front of the mountainous door, listening to the sound of my knock echo inside it. We’re supposed to tremble and feel inferior before it, but this time I don’t. There’s a reason so many people fear desperate men—we fear nothing but that which we are about to lose.

  The echoes fade into silence. This wasn’t what I expected. I know he doesn’t sit in his chambers all day. But she’s in danger, and he’s the only one who can help her.

  “Please,” I beg, pounding again. “If you don’t answer . . . if you don’t let me in . . . then our deal is over. She won’t survive long enough for me to find her weakness.”

  My head hangs, fighting against thoughts of what the world would be like without her. Losing her would be like losing the sun. My world would be forever dark.

  A throat clears behind me.

  I whip around. Towering over me in a black hooded cloak is the Acquisitioner. But unlike the other times, this time I don’t drop my gaze. I can’t. My mission is too important—she’s too important—for me to be submissive.

  “I did not think I could be surprised by your kind. But here you are, waiting outside my chambers this time,” he says, referring to my breaking and entering last night. “You are fortunate that my plans require complete secrecy. Otherwise, I would hand you to my sister to remind you of your place, demon. With your emotions restored, you would fold on the first Trial.”

  My body convulses, remembering all too well the pleasure his sister, the Gatekeeper, takes from inflicting pain both during the Trials and privately in her chambers.

  “Move,” he commands. “This had better be worth my time.”

  I nod and stand to the side as the doors open. Silently I follow him inside. This time, I keep my eyes down, not wanting to upset him further. Holding my tongue and treating him—any of them—with respect is hard, even though it has been beaten into me. But with Mads’s life on the line, I have no choice.

  He takes his time, making himself at home behind his enormous desk, though he doesn’t lower his cloak. It isn’t surprising. Other than the Gatekeeper’s, I’ve never seen any of the Fallen’s faces. She hardly ever wears a cloak, whereas the others hardly ever take them off. Not that I’d ever want to look upon the faces of the Acquisitioner, the Ferryman, or Death.

  I met all of the Fallen except the Acquisitioner the first day I came here. Death greeted me when I took my last breath. He stood over eight feet tall, wearing nothing but a black cloak. His hood was pulled so far forward that only darkness existed where his face should have been. Without a word, he took me into the Great Divide. I didn’t fully understand what had happened to me until we arrived in Immortal City for the reading of my file—my judgment. When my fate was set, Death met me again and transported me to Hell, where the Ferryman took over.

  Like his brother, he stood silent in his cloak as he guided hundreds of ferries across the Styx. When we made it to shore, monsters more grotesque than anything I’d seen in movies and TV led us through the Gates of Hell. Every direction I looked was more horrifying than the last. But then they stopped us, and there, standing amidst twin pyres, was a woman dressed in black leather and stiletto boots.

  She was the embodiment of every fantasy I’d yet to have. The way th
e leather clung to her body . . . it was as if she weren’t wearing anything at all. Plum lips were curved in a secretive smile, and her onyx eyes could cut you to shreds the instant they were on you. She put every female rock star, every centerfold, to shame. But she wasn’t a rock star or a pinup girl. She was the Gatekeeper, and she was there to make my life a literal hell.

  The Acquisitioner lets out a long exhale. “State your business, demon, before my patience runs out.”

  Memories of my past fade away as Mads reclaims her place as my primary thought. “Another demon found her today, sir.”

  He sits up, leaning over his desk and placing a cloaked hand inside the darkness of his hood, where I assume his chin is. “Where is she now?”

  “Resting with the Protector, sir.”

  “With him and not you?”

  I grimace. If there’s anything I hate more than the sight of her in his arms, it’s having it thrown in my face.

  “Good,” he says, listening to my thoughts. “You have proper motivation.”

  “He hasn’t left her side since last night, and now there are other Protectors helping him. I can’t get close enough to her to discover her weakness. We’re running out of time. Can’t you just tell me—”

  “Consider yourself lucky I even told you she has a weakness. Is this all you came to tell me, or was there a point to your visit?”

  Mads’s face flashes in my mind. I take a deep breath and vow to do whatever it takes to save her. Then I straighten and stare straight into his red eyes.

  “I’ve come for a weapon. One that can protect her from the untold numbers of angels and demons who will come for her. Even when the contract is signed, the other side will still try to take her from me—from you.”

  “Angels and demons cannot be killed. You are on a fool’s errand.”

  “What about the weapon you used on the Nephil—”

  Before I can finish, my body is raised in the air, my extremities pulled to their limits, just as last night.

  He shoves out of his chair so fast it falls behind him. He leans over his desk resting his weight on his massive hands. “How do you know of that?” he booms. He pulls tighter, forcing me to answer.

  “Past lives,” I spit out.

  He loosens the tension.

  “I’ve been recalling as many past lives as I can,” I continue. “I remember the purge of the Nephilim. You were charged with their destruction, having sired most of them.”

  His fingers flex on the desk, digging into the stone, and his body convulses underneath his cloak. “You remember too much, demon.”

  The purge of the Nephilim nearly ended the human race. Born of lust or rape, the spawns of the Archangels were rotten, unholy creatures. It didn’t matter which side of the fight their immortal fathers fell on—the Nephilim were all the same. They had the abilities of their Archangel fathers, but lacked the ability to control them.

  Heavenly Father put an end to them, commanding the Acquisitioner to destroy them all. It took almost a century. After that, Heavenly Father decreed the Archangels of both sides shall no longer mate with mortals. The Devil agreed. As added insurance, Heavenly Father made it so that no child shall ever again be created from a union between an immortal and a mortal.

  His shoulders sag, no doubt listening to my thoughts again.

  After a moment, he releases me, and I collapse to the stone ground. He turns and walks down the rows of files. I stretch my arms and legs, trying to appease the ache in them. As I watch the Acquisitioner walk away from me, a startling revelation dawns on me.

  He reacted with surprise.

  He reacted with anger.

  He reacted with guilt and sadness.

  He can feel.

  Can only he feel, or can all of the Fallen? All of the Archangels? Is this why he’s after Mads?

  A moment later, he reappears holding a lone object wrapped in a dirty cloth. He places the package on the desk and motions for me to open it.

  The object is about a foot and a half long, and no wider than my hand. I arch a brow, doubting this is what purged thousands of Nephilim. After a breath, I grab the cloth. It’s old. Far older than anything created in this century. Carefully, I unravel it.

  Once the weapon is revealed, I stare down at it—in awe. It’s a blade made of bone. The handle is wrapped in what looks like leather. I suspect it’s as old as the blade itself, though it’s remarkably intact. The back of the blade has an almost elegant curve, though the instrument is anything but. Chipped teeth and jagged grooves cover the edge—worn down from the many souls it has slain.

  “This is Requiem Aeternam. Angel, demon, mortal—the blade does not care what blood it sheds.”

  Pressure eases in my chest. Finally, I will be able to protect her.

  I reach down to grab the blade, but the Acquisitioner blocks me, placing his hand in front of the blade.

  He stares at me, searching for something deep down inside me.

  “Know this, demon,” he warns, “whoever you strike with this blade shall cease to exist. Can you live with that kind of weight on your soul?”

  I place my hands on his desk, near the blade as it rests on that ancient cloth. I feel the power—his power and the power of the blade—rush up through my palms before I stare into his red eyes.

  “I would obliterate billions of souls in order to save hers.”

  His hood moves in a small nod. “Then it is yours. Do not let any of her blood touch it. The next time we meet, I expect the contract to be signed. It should not be a problem with how determined you are to keep her safe.” He glares at me a moment longer, then pushes off the desk. “You are dismissed.”

  I grab the blade and rush out of his office before I make the mistake of thinking. As I tuck the blade inside my coat, a tension loosens from my body. I won’t use it on MJ. Though my hatred of him spans many centuries, he doesn’t deserve the blade.

  I will use it on whoever possessed her at the park, though.

  The Acquisitioner’s doors close behind me. Before anyone can notice me outside his chambers, I summon the Great Divide and leave Hell.

  No matter what happens now, I will keep her safe.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maddy

  MJ’s fussing over me even more now. He made a huge lunch, and now I’m sitting on his lap in the living room. He keeps asking if I’m okay, even though his essence is constantly checking too. I keep telling him I’m fine even though I’m anything but.

  And I keep thinking I’m getting better at this—at accepting the whole Heaven and Hell package that comes with MJ. But I’m not. My knowledge of him and his world is equivalent to an ant hill sitting on Mount Everest; I will never be able to take it all in. I’m not sure I want to.

  His essence has been battling with my fears. I tried to push them all down—hide them away from him—but there are too many.

  I don’t like lying to MJ about where I went. It creates knots in my stomach. Even though I want to undo the lies, the words won’t come. She forced me to lie to him. I think she compelled me, even though no one else can compel me.

  I should hate her. She’s given me more than enough reasons too. But . . . I can’t. It’s not because of all the good things she’s done for me in the past. Or the things she’ll do in the future. It’s just that despite all the wrong things . . . I miss being connected with her.

  MJ whispers something in my ear again. I think it’s Norwegian. I don’t know what it means, but from the tender way he says it and the kisses and nuzzles afterward, I think it’s a nickname. Something like “my baby” or “my sweetie”—but better. More from the heart. Something similar to what he said last night—that I am at the very center of his heart.

  He rarely talks of his previous life. And from the expressions on his teammates’ faces, I don’t think they’ve ever heard him use his native language. I like that he says it for me.

  Alexander and Tamitha seem nice, now that they’ve had a real chance to introduce themselves.
They’re sitting on the love seat making faces at each other—trying out their new emotions.

  I guess I’m not the only one adjusting to new things.

  Suddenly MJ, Tamitha, and Alexander turn their heads toward the kitchen. A half breath later, Tamitha and Alexander disappear.

  My heart races as my head snaps toward the kitchen too.

  The door in the kitchen opens, and laughter fills the house as my family returns from shopping—an “idea” MJ gave them to get them out of the house while I was recuperating from the incident at the park. I hear Hannah run upstairs and my parents putting away some groceries.

  Even though it’s great they’re home and happy, I feel nervous again.

  During lunch, MJ told me my family’s memories of the past few days have all been altered. Mine haven’t. If I say something they don’t remember, then they’ll question me in their minds. They may even question their own memories. Guardian Angels monitor people after demonic attacks to make sure the new memories stay intact. If they suspect someone remembers the truth, MJ said the Perfugae will be brought back to investigate.

  I stiffen at the thought. MJ said the Perfugae were Archangels that fell from Heaven after Lucifer. But when they saw how horrible life in Hell was, they tried to return to Heaven. They were turned away. Then they tried to return to Hell, but Lucifer shunned them too. Every day since, they’ve tried to make amends with and win favor from both sides. Their penance is to prevent mortals from discovering the existence of angels and demons.

  MJ erased my family’s memories to keep the Perfugae away from them—really, to keep them away from me. I think they’re the same beings Justin was afraid of last night. I can’t do something stupid and mess this up. I have to go along with their new memories.

  I wish I could have these last days back with my family. Even though many horrible things happened, there were many good things too. I finally started connecting with them. I even told Hannah I loved her. Now that memory is gone for her. I hate it.