There was nothing worse than being wet while wearing clothes. Cin’s feet squished inside his boots. If he was a human, he’d have been dead from pneumonia already. Jonathan had a lead on a certain port. Or a hunch. Whatever. He trusted Jonathan’s gut feeling above all else. After Faolan had spent the day staking out the place, he’d agreed with Jonathan’s assessment. Although he hadn’t seen anything to back up Jonathan’s gut feeling, the location was a solid place. They could load just about anything onto a boat without anyone seeing them. It was secluded, but close enough to a few popular nightclubs for the demons to lure unsuspecting women to their deaths. Just like in Tortola.

Cin and Faolan spent most of the night hiding in the trees, hoping to spot something of use. When the rain started falling, they’d buckled down, but when the lightning and thunder rolled in, they’d packed it in for the night. Now Cin was soaked to the bone, his mood was shit, and all he wanted was to crawl into bed with his men. He almost made it to the bedroom before an arm snaked out, towing him inside Niall’s room. His chest hit a solid wall named Niall. Damn, he’d forgotten. He’d forgotten what it was like to have a warrior prince unleashing lust upon him.

“You’re wet.”

Cin held Niall’s gaze and nodded. Anything he said would sound idiotic since Niall already pointed out the obvious.

Niall’s gaze dropped to Cin’s mouth. “We missed you today.”

Cin’s tongue shot out, wetting his bottom lip. “Is that so?” Cin heard the lust dripping from his question.

“Yes. We should find Jonathan and coax him to bed. Get you warmed up.”

Cin’s heart sped. All hint of cold slipped away. His skin was on fire. This was what he’d been craving, having Niall take away the control. When Cin responded, his voice came out sounding like he’d been chomping on gravel. “Agreed.” He took a step back, intent on doing just that.

Niall held tight, refusing to let him go. “In a second. We have business first.” Cin was on the verge of panting from listening to Niall talk.

Cin nodded. His voice gone. Niall dipped his chin. Cin held his breath. When their lips met, a whimper escaped Cin. Niall’s tongue swept Cin’s bottom lip, seeking entrance. Cin’s lips parted on a gasp. Niall took advantage, shoving his way inside. Without thought, Cin’s fingers grasped at Niall’s shirt, seeking purchase. His head fell back as Niall came at him with everything he had. It was a full-on assault. He was mindless, moving against Niall, seeking relief.

A noise like the tiniest shifting of weight had them jumping apart and spinning toward the door. Dougal stood with a spoon raised halfway to his mouth, a bowl in his other hand, and a look of shock etching his features. He cleared his throat and dropped the spoon into his bowl.

“Um, so, not judging here or anything, but is this the reason Jonathan is standing outside in the storm and looking scary? I tried reading him, even though I know he doesn’t like that, but it was… odd. There was nothing. Like a blank spot where he stood. It was fooking eerie.”

Niall’s face screwed up in confusion. He met Cin’s gaze. “I can’t hear him. He’s hiding.”

Cin gave him a shove toward the door. “You should be the one to go after him. If he’s shielding his thoughts, I’ll never break through.”

Niall eyed him for a moment. “We should go together.”

He was right. They should. Cin flashed his prince a smile. They were getting there—learning how to be a team. As a unit, they went in search of Jonathan. Dougal was right. Whatever was going on with Jonathan was eerie as hell. With his eyes closed, Jonathan stood out in the storm. His forehead furrowed as if lost in thought or concentrating with everything he possessed.

Cin brushed his fingertips down Jonathan’s spine. “Hey, baby. Is everything okay?”

Jonathan didn’t budge. He didn’t startle at their appearance. If Cin wasn’t mistaken, not a single muscle shifted. “Something’s wrong.”

Niall pulled a knife from its holster at his back at Jonathan’s warning. Cin felt it then. Evil tainted the air. The storm dampened the scent of rot.

“Get inside, Jonathan,” Niall ordered, attempting to shove Jonathan toward the house.

Jonathan didn’t waver, even with the giant vamp trying to maneuver him. “I can’t move.”

Too late, Cin realized Jonathan wasn’t deep in thought. He was fighting the hold of some invisible evil that was keeping his body locked in place. Thankfully, Cin was still packing from his stakeout. Even as he pulled a gun and a knife from their holsters, his fangs grew, anticipating a fight. His senses strained, attempting to pinpoint from which direction they’d be attacked first.

Two demons dropped from the trees and rushed them from the left. Jonathan threw back his head, releasing a roar that startled Cin to the point he almost let one of their intruders get the drop on him. Not only did Jonathan’s rage break through the invisible bonds holding him, his yell had Dougal and Faolan running full speed into battle as more demons poured in from every direction. Cin’s attention was split between killing as many demons as possible and keeping Jonathan safe. This was why he’d wanted Jonathan to stay as far away from what they did as possible. He needed to know his man was safe.

Cin need not have worried. The one demon who managed to break through the barrier of warriors surrounding Jonathan paid for his efforts. Everyone froze as Jonathan’s fingers wrapped around the demon’s throat. He lifted the beast off its feet. The show of strength had nothing to do with the scattering demons, disappearing into the same trees they emerged from. The unlucky beast who suffered Jonathan’s wrath shook with such a force the human he possessed slipped to the ground, leaving the demon behind in Jonathan’s hold. Cin couldn’t look away from the phenomenon. Outside of exorcism, Cin had never seen a demon ripped from human form by sheer power.

“There’s nothing here for you,” Jonathan growled, sounding like five deep-voiced men spoke from his mouth. A hint of fear snaked its way into Cin’s heart. Jonathan was more than they believed, but what… he had no idea. With a squeeze of his fingers, Jonathan crushed the life from the demon before tossing him aside. Cin could only stare in disbelief. Jonathan hadn’t sent the beast back to hell until he could find a new human to possess. He’d ended its existence.

The air turned to ice. Chills skirted over Cin. It had been centuries since Cin had felt such concentrated evil. He knew before turning his head what he would see. The grass died beneath the man’s feet as he moved in their direction. His iridescent eyes were fixed upon Jonathan. The man’s pale skin and perfect suit looked like a thousand other businessmen’s. It was wrapping, masking one of the oldest evils of time — one of the original seven. Mammon. The only Prince of Hell incapable of sharing earth.

Cin moved to position himself between Mammon and Jonathan. Mammon’s form turned to static. One second, he was feet away. The next, his fist slammed into Jonathan’s chest. Blood splattered across Cin’s face. His heart stopped. He could not do this twice in one lifetime. Losing Jonathan wasn’t an option. A roar rent the air. Cin thought the sound came from his heart until he realized it was a mixture of the clan. Every single one released a battle cry as they launched themselves in Mammon’s direction. Jonathan came to his own rescue. It was obvious Mammon intended to rip out Jonathan’s heart, ensuring they couldn’t save him. Jonathan shoved, sending Mammon sprawling. If the demon was surprised to find himself on the ground and under attack from a new turn, Cin didn’t get a chance to enjoy the sight. The static zapping happened again, flashing the man away. Jonathan fell forward, landing in the mud. Faolan and Dougal took off after Mammon, leaving Cin and Niall scrambling to inspect Jonathan’s injuries. Considering the fury with which Jonathan had fought for his life, Cin couldn’t believe the massive hole in Jonathan’s chest. It was healing, but not fast enough. Jonathan was losing blood faster than a gaping hole could close.

“Stay with me, baby,” Niall begged, stealing the words from Cin’s mouth.

“Lire,” Jonathan whispered.

Niall cast a desperate glance at Cin. He bent closer, obviously trying to make sense of Jonathan’s request. “I don’t understand, baby. Just be still.”

“Get Lire,” Jonathan repeated.

The instant the request left Jonathan’s lips, Niall disappeared in a flash of white light and smoke, as if he’d been zapped away. Cin found his back against a nearby tree. His feet hung feet off the ground. Nothing held him in place, except everything did. The world pressed against his chest, making it almost impossible for him to draw in enough air to breathe. Cin couldn’t move. His voice wouldn’t work. Niall had disappeared as if he never existed. Cin was rendered useless.

The demon they’d kept locked away appeared in the spot where Niall had been stooped at Jonathan’s side, as if he could’ve overtaken them anytime he wanted. “I’m here,” he said. The demon didn’t hesitate digging his knees in the mud as he dropped to Jonathan’s side and inspected the man’s wounds.

“Get away from him.” Cin mouthed the words in a silent scream. Panic owned him. Jonathan was hurt and helpless against the creature currently kneeling over his body.

The demon never spared a glance for Cin. “Don’t worry over your dark prince,” he said, as if attempting to soothe Jonathan. “He’s safe.”

“I know,” Jonathan gasped. He clung to the demon’s hand, showing a trust in evil that infuriated Cin almost as much as his impotency did. “I can feel him.”

“You should’ve run when I told you to, Jonathan,” the demon said, seeming oblivious to the carnage surrounding him. “Your dark prince should’ve protected you. You’re too important.”

This dark creature knew Jonathan’s name. Spoke as if they were friends. Cin was trapped. His mate’s life was fading. Niall was gone, and Cin didn’t for a second trust a demon’s words that his prince was safe. He’d never felt more powerless.

We’ve lost track of the evil one.

Dougal’s mental update had Cin calling out for help in the only way left to him.

The demon has Jonathan.

Dougal and Faolan instantly appeared at his mental call. Unfortunately, they were as helpless as Cin the moment they showed themselves.

“What the fook?” Dougal yelled. Cin released a silent growl over Dougal having a voice. “Where’s Niall?”

The demon flashed him away. I don’t know where.

“I can heal you, Jonathan, but using dark magic this strong requires a trade.”

“You son-of-a-bitch,” Dougal yelled.

The demon continued to ignore him. “It has to be a life for a life. You’re too close to death’s edge. You can’t cheat a reaper from gathering his allotted souls.”

Jonathan shook his head. His teeth chattered as he spoke, as if the chill of death was upon him. “It’s okay. I’m not scared.”

“I cannot let you die, Jonathan.”

“Yes you can,” Jonathan gasped out, still clinging to the demon.

“Take me,” Dougal cried out, sounding as if he was as desperate as Cin. “Save my prince. A life for a life. Take mine.”

The demon finally tore his gaze away from Jonathan. His stare glowed red as it locked on Dougal. “I’d always intended on it, my love.” The creature’s hands glowed with unnatural light. He pushed the light into Jonathan’s wound, tearing a scream from Jonathan that ripped at Cin’s throat. Helpless tears of frustration rolled down Cin’s cheeks. The demon spoke quietly to Jonathan. Cin couldn’t hear a word over his mate’s screams. Jonathan’s body went still—lifeless.

Cin strained to hear any sound. A low pulse reached his ears. It was slow at first before gathering strength. It was his mate’s heart beating. The demon and Dougal disappeared in the same flash of light as Niall had. Faolan’s and Cin’s bodies fell to the ground in a graceless heap. Cin scrambled to Jonathan’s side. The wound in his chest was completely healed, but he didn’t regain consciousness. There were too many things that he needed to do—find the evil responsible. Search for Niall. Save Dougal. Cin could only do what he could do. He swept Jonathan into his arms and headed for the house. His mate was his first priority.

* * *

The universe zipped past Niall in a nauseating display. He half expected to be ripped to shreds at any moment. Pressure built inside his ears, making him wonder if his eardrums would explode. Air moved too fast to be taken into his lungs. Darkness crowded his vision. A second before it could take him under, his feet landed softly upon a solid white floor. In fact, everything was blindingly white. Niall fought the urge to shield his eyes.

Dark hair and emerald eyes captured his attention. Although they’d never met, Niall recognized Goddess Celeste immediately. His soul knew her. She was the creator of all vampire-kind. He fell to his knees and bowed his head

“Your excellency.”

She snorted. “Is that what you’re going with?”

He had no idea. Niall had never posed the philosophical question of how to refer to a god should they ever meet. “Ma’am?” he asked questioningly.

Goddess Celeste hummed. “It matters not. Do you think I make mistakes?”

Niall’s voice came out stronger this time. “No.”

She huffed. “For the love of all things holy, get off your knees. Maybe if you’d spent a little more time on them while you were alive, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline as he stood.

A rolled-up magazine appeared in her hand. She hit him with it. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she said, punctuating each word by hitting him with the magazine. “I meant on your knees in prayer.” She turned slightly away before turning back again and meeting his gaze. Her eyes flashed with devilry. “Or did I?” She eyed him from head to toe and sighed. With the snap of her fingers, a chair appeared. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re too tall to be hovering over me and giving me a crick in my neck.”

Niall immediately sat.

She gave him a short nod as if satisfied by the difference in height now. “Let’s start again. Do you think I make mistakes?”

“No,” he repeated every bit as strong as he had the first time.

Celeste paced away. “Then why have you hurt your loves by fighting against them for so long? Have I not blessed you with more than others? Shown my favoritism?”

Niall’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry; I don’t understand.”

“Ah, so it’s ignorance and not defiance.” Her pacing slowed. While watching her feet, Celeste tapped the rolled-up magazine against her palm. “Perhaps a little blindness is also in this mix,” she added, sounding thoughtful. She met his stare once more. “Do you love Cin?”

Niall dipped his chin. “I love all my men.”

She hit him again. Her paper weapon caused more noise than pain, but her point was made. “Don’t play dumb. That’s unattractive, especially when speaking to someone who knows you better than you know yourself. Do you think I don’t know how you’ve cared for him? How you’ve allowed your insecurities to trick you into believing he loves you as he would any prince who rules him?”

Niall held his tongue. Anything he said would only get him hit again.

“Damn right, it would,” she spat, obviously reading his thoughts. “Gifts I’ve set at your feet for centuries have gone unnoticed, but this new perfection I’ve created for you cannot be ignored. It’s too important,” she said, sounding as if the last part was more for herself.

“I’m not ignoring Jonathan.” As he said his mate’s name, pain washed over him. Jonathan was on the verge of death, and he was stuck here. What would happen if he didn’t make it back in time? Were they all already dead? A lump took up residence in his throat. Celeste paced as if oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“Jonathan,” Celeste said lovingly. Indeed, her steps slowed as she stared off into space, smiling as she said his name—like she enjoyed the flavor of it on her tongue as much as Niall enjoyed having the man on his. “Is he not amazing?” she asked.

“He’s dying,” Niall growled, losing patience. “As we speak, he’s bleeding to death with a gaping wound in his chest. I need to get back to him.”

Goddess Celeste smiled as if pandering to a child. “I assure you, he’s quite safe. My personal guard has been keeping close tabs on him and will ensure he is healed.” Her gaze drifted away again, as if losing her train of thought. She smiled like a proud mother. “As long as Jonathan has been capable of speech, he’s talked to me for countless hours—like a child who’s eaten too much sugar. He rambles on about everything. Half the time, his thoughts aren’t complete, but he never stops seeking answers from me.” Her smile let Niall know this pleased her. “When he was twenty, I visited him in the night and set my hand upon him, giving him comfort when his grandmother passed. She’d been the only human who fully accepted him. That’s my fault,” Celeste said, her expression turning sad. “I gave him gifts, you see? Abilities usually reserved for the rarest of immortals. How could I not?” she asked, once more sounding as if she mused aloud. “You, my immortal soldiers, ignore my presence, while Jonathan, a man who was given nothing but a few short years on earth, speaks to me daily. You’re spoiled.”

Her hand shot out as if to strike Niall’s cheek. At the last moment, she caressed him instead.

“As much as you think I don’t understand your trials, you’re wrong. I’ve existed since the dawn of all. No one knows better than me how cruel time is. He takes and takes, stealing everything until we are no more than shells.” After taking a step back, her smile reappeared. “That’s why Jonathan is so important. That’s why he’s blessed.” Celeste’s smile slipped away. “That’s why I gave him two warriors to worship him, and worship him, you shall. He’s the key to everything.” She moved closer, holding his stare with an intensity that held Niall in place with fear. “I’m about to show you the future, Niall, leader of the Hellish. You must keep it safe. You must keep Jonathan safe.”

* * *

As Jonathan watched Faolan pace and Cin worry at his bottom lip, he tried to feel what they felt. He couldn’t. Twice now he’d been the target of an attack. The last time, it had taken him weeks to shake the chill. Lire had done something to Jonathan, leaving him feeling euphoric and better than he had in ages. Cin had wasted no time rinsing the blood from Jonathan’s chest, as if he needed to reassure himself Jonathan was okay. It had taken Jonathan fifteen minutes of begging, telling Cin he loved him, and letting his mate feel his heartbeat before Cin allowed Jonathan to don a clean shirt.

Just when Jonathan thought Cin might snap under the strain, Faolan ended up being the one who broke.

“We should be out there, hunting the bastard who dared attack our prince.” Faolan’s face hardened. “We need to find that fooker who killed Dougal, rip off his demon head, and shit down his throat.”

“We’re not currently equipped to hunt Mammon, and that demon saved Jonathan,” Cin said, sounding torn. “We need to find Niall.”

The words Lire had whispered before disappearing rang in Jonathan’s head. I am Lire, seventh son of Asmodeus. Say my name and I will come to you.

“Who is Asmodeus?”

Cin chewed on the side of his fingernail, looking ready to crawl out of his skin. “The seventh Prince of Hell—Lust. Why?”

Jonathan didn’t respond. Cin’s answer explained so much, especially why Lire was so powerful. “Niall is on his way, and Dougal isn’t dead,” Jonathan said instead, bringing two sets of eyes his way. Jonathan concentrated on the amethyst ones. The ones that held the most pain. “He isn’t dead.”

In two long strides, Faolan reached his side. After falling to his knees, Faolan’s gaze met Jonathan’s. Hope and desperation swirled in the man’s mind. “How do you know? The demon said a life for a life.”

Jonathan’s hand moved without thought. Faolan reached for him at the same time, as if needing comfort only Jonathan could give. A smile pulled at the corners of Jonathan’s mouth. He could feel Lire and Dougal getting farther away. All the way to the Port of Southern Louisiana, to be exact. “Because I can feel him,” Jonathan said, doing a piss-poor job of explaining himself. “I can feel all of you. Them too. I can feel everyone.”

Faolan shook his head. “What did that demon do to you? Are you high?”

Jonathan shook his head. “I’ve always known all of you were there. My whole life, I’ve been searching for you. I just didn’t understand what I was looking for.”

“Us,” Niall said, strolling into the room as if he hadn’t been sent God only knows where. “You were searching for us.” He tossed boxes of chalk to Faolan and Cin. “Ward the walls. Start with this room. While you draw the protection spells, I’ll talk,” Niall said before leaning down and capturing Jonathan’s mouth.

“Where the hell have you been?” Faolan snapped.

Niall didn’t break their kiss.

A flavor like cotton candy ice cream coated Jonathan’s taste buds. He held tight to Niall’s shirt, incapable of letting him go. Evil was always trying to tear them apart. The fear he’d been stamping down flared to life.

“You smell like a candy store,” Jonathan whispered against Niall’s lips to hold the panic at bay.

“I love you, baby. Please stop scaring me. I’m an old man. It’s not good for my heart.”

Cin appeared over his shoulder. “Yes. Please stop doing that.”

“And you,” Niall said, snagging Cin’s hand and pulling him in the center of things. “I love you too. You two are my world. We all have way too much to lose to be so careless with our lives.” Without giving anyone time to respond, Niall kissed Cin. Tears welled in Jonathan’s eyes. He hadn’t believed they’d find their way. Before he could coo over it—the way he wanted—Niall pulled him into their kiss.

“For fook’s sake. I’m like the fourth wheel over here and that doesn’t even make sense,” Faolan said, making Jonathan laugh.

Niall smacked Cin’s ass. “Get back to work. We have to fortify this place until we can come up with a solid plan to battle Mammon. Two attacks on Jonathan isn’t a coincidence, and this is a whole new level of problems.”

“They know he’s our weakness,” Cin said as he moved to the closest wall and drew a circle.

Niall shook his head. “They know he’s our greatest strength, and they won’t stop until he’s destroyed.” All heads swiveled in Niall’s direction. “I didn’t capture that demon by some stroke of luck. He let me catch him. And that was no ordinary demon.”

Jonathan had known that last part, but not the first. “Why would he do that?” Jonathan didn’t understand. Why would anyone subject himself to torture unnecessarily?

“Because Goddess Celeste asked it of him.”

Faolan’s mouth fell open.

Cin visibly floundered. “What? How? Why?”

“Who is Goddess Celeste?”

Niall smiled at Jonathan’s question. “Your greatest ally. In your life, you’ve known her as God, and she thinks the world of you.”

“I don’t understand.” Jonathan couldn’t stop playing ignorant because he was.

Cin waved his arms wildly. “How do you know how she feels about Jonathan?”

“Because she told me,” Niall said, sounding proud. “That’s where I’ve been.”

Cin looked as if he’d been shocked speechless. Faolan didn’t suffer any such ailment. “Is it because Jonathan is a Seer, and what about Dougal? Was he there? Jonathan says he’s still alive.”

“Dougal is fine. He’ll find his way back to us. If not, Jonathan can find him any time he likes. Right, Jonathan?”

Jonathan swallowed. He didn’t know why it was true, but it was. “Yes.”

“You’re not a Seer,” Niall said while holding Jonathan’s gaze. “You never were.”

Jonathan found himself leaning forward in his seat, hanging on Niall’s every word. “I don’t understand,” he repeated, because he couldn’t stop.

“If he’s not a Seer, then what? He’s never been full human. The boy knows too many things,” Faolan argued.

“I know he does,” Niall said, holding Jonathan’s stare. “That’s because he’s a Nephilim. Goddess Celeste’s great-grandson, to be precise.”

Holy shit. Jonathan didn’t even know where to start. All he knew for certain was, he had the best clan to keep him safe while they figured this out.