Angel and demon blood didn’t mix, not without an explosive reaction. The mix of his and Kara’s blood sizzled and burned, but it had died without blowing up in his face.

Which means Kara isn’t a full demon. She wasn’t even half. But the taint was there.

That wasn’t even the worst part. If he was right, then Kara’s family had been founded by Amducious himself.

The king had been on earth before the Collision. He’d been part of the sect that warred with Heaven during Lucifer’s rebellion. According to rumor, he had raped a beautiful human woman who’d crossed his path. The child that resulted had been born with uncanny abilities, a rare demon-born witch.

Like so many events from that time, the details of the child’s life were murky. All Ash knew for certain was his history full of murder and iniquity—and that he’d gone on to have several children. Their family name had never been known to his kind.

He knew it now. It was Delavordo.

He’d believed every witch from that line to be dead—mostly at the hands of his people. They had made it their mission to wipe out those abominations for centuries.

But Kara wasn’t evil. Ash knew it in his bones. No matter what her provenance, her actions were what defined her. Kara was a savior. Nothing would change that—not even a demonic heritage.

Nevertheless, this knowledge was a game changer. So many things now made sense. Now he knew why Kara was so intricately tied to the curse. Her ancestor had been the one to cast it. And she was Ash’s best hope for ending it.

Focus on the now. He still needed to get out of here, and he had the means to do it.

There was just one problem. Angels were supposed to be pure of mind and body. That was why sex with humans was forbidden. As transgressions went, it was forgivable. Probably. The hard liners in Heaven would disagree.

This spell he was about to cast was another situation entirely. To complete it, he would need to take the blood into his body. Using a human’s would have been one thing. Doing this with demon blood would contaminate him, putting him that much farther from Heaven.

It always comes down to this, he thought, fiddling with the vial to swirl the dark ruby liquid around. Nothing was stronger than blood magic. That was what Raphael always told him. Of course, his old commander hadn’t mentioned things like this angelic trap.

Ash had discovered these when he was in the field. He’d found his squadron brother Lucien imprisoned in one near the end of the first holy war.

Lucien had been emaciated and nearly demented. Once in Heaven, he’d recovered…eventually. But that angel had been a celibate warrior dedicated to defeating evil. Unlike Ash, Lucien had nothing to lose. That wasn’t Ash anymore. All this time on earth had changed him. If something happened to Kara or his city while he was stuck in here, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He couldn’t think about that anymore. That way lay madness. This angel trap could keep him bound, but it wouldn’t stop his call.

Just keep telling yourself that. With a sigh, he picked up his blade again. Cutting deeper, he used the flowing blood to draw a sigil on the floor. His fingers swept in a semicircle, forming a crescent before moving his fingers out in rapid strokes.

Once he was done, he kept his bloody fingers in the center of the sigil he’d drawn, maintaining contact. Using his free hand, he opened the vial and lifted it to his lips.

Should he drink it all or save some for a second attempt? All, he decided. Saving some for a second attempt would be pointless. He had one shot at this.

What was it pre-Collision humans had said when taking a shot? “Bottoms up.”

Tipping the vial up, he drank the contents in one gulp. The taste of iron and cinnamon exploded in his mouth. Overwhelmed, he swallowed quickly, running his tongue over his lips to ensure it was all down. The aftertaste of bitter ochre lingered.

Using the sacred words for connection, he called for Kara, using her name in between refrains. His spell pulsed out of him, the vibration coming from the very heart of him.

An invisible wave bounced back on him, striking like a body blow. He fell on his side.

Merde. Ash winced and picked himself up. Anxious now, he redoubled his efforts, praying and chanting in the tone and frequency specific to angels. Eventually, his desperation infused the spell. It increased in pitch, battering at the invisible wall generated by the pentagram.

Only some of them ricocheted. He sat there, buffeted by the force of his own spell. The noise generated was so loud he was tempted to cover his ears, but he couldn’t risk stopping his chant. He kept his hand on the sigil, breaking off suddenly when he heard stones shift. An ominous crack sounded overhead.

Crap. If he kept going, the subbasement might come down on him completely. Even if she heard him, Kara might not be able to reach him, let alone dig him out.

Wincing, he resumed chanting. It wasn’t like he had another option.

You know, now might be an excellent time to pray.