The second time around, Amaya was proud to say she had improved or rather, she hadn’t fallen out of the sky. Thank whatever saint or sinner it was nighttime. She stayed relatively close to the ground and prayed to not draw the attention of the regular folk milling about. Midnight in the summer on a Saturday, the streets were full of people. All she needed was for one to glance up and see the human flying overhead.

Amaya followed the road away from the farm for ten miles before it came to a small town and the first state road. She made a right and headed for the interstate, which would take her back to Detroit. A single car, a red Mercedes, was parked at a gas station before the on-ramp. She circled, hoping for a graceful landing, only to crash into the dumpster next to the last pump.

“What the—” Scarla didn’t rush right over. She took her time as Amaya grabbed onto the metal lid and hauled herself upright. She flexed her shoulders. The wings felt okay. She twisted around for a glance.

“They’re fine. Are you following me?” Hands on hips, Scarla’s foot tapped out a tune.

“Yeah. I need your help.” Amaya dusted herself off.

Scarla took Amaya’s hand and squeezed. “What’s happened? Who else is hurt?”

“No. No. It’s nothing like that.” Amaya shook her head. “Everyone’s fine, and we have to keep them that way. That’s why I need your help.”

Scarla folded her arms and rocked back on her heels. “Get to the point. What’s going on?”

“The Cruor is in Vegas, but its only there during the daytime. The UnHallowed are going to get it.”

“During daylight!” Scarla shouted.

“Exactly. They left me here to guard Daghony, but Gadreel is there watching over him. I need to be in Vegas to help. Problem is, it’s twenty-nine hours away by car. I figure flying myself there will cut that in half, still, that’s almost fifteen hours of me flapping my wings when I need to be there by daylight, which is in six hours.”

Scarla’s mouth hung open. “Oh fuck! What am I supposed to do? I don’t own a plane.” She threw her hands up.

“Someone like you has got to know someone who has one.” Amaya had pinned her hope on this. It had to work or else...

Scarla inhaled a sharp breath. Amaya braced for the reaming, but Scarla got this wide-eyed look as if someone had just shoved an ice cube into her bra. “I do know someone…Damn it, it’s gonna cost me.”

* * *

The Learjet came into view as Scarla and Amaya cleared the last checkpoint. Amaya hid in the back seat, which wasn’t easy considering her wings. Luckily, Scarla had a blanket in the back for Amaya to cover up and pretend she was asleep.

“All right. Dimi’s pilot knows you’re flying to Vegas. Flight time is four hours. That’s plenty of time before sunrise. After that, you’re on your own.”

Amaya sat up and yanked the blanket away. “Good. Thanks. I appreciate all your help. One other thing.” She pointed at her wings. “What am I supposed to do about these?”

Scarla twisted her body around as much as the bucket seat allowed and sneered, “Do I have wings to know the answer to that stupid question?”

“Well, how does Kush, Dag, and the rest hide their wings?”

“I. Don’t. Know. It was never a question I asked,” Scarla gritted between clenched teeth.

Amaya flopped back into the seat. She couldn’t get on the plane with a set of wings.

“And here comes the pilot,” Scarla snapped. Sure enough, the pilot had walked down the stairs and headed toward the car. “W-what are we gonna say?” she mumbled as the pilot stopped by her window.

Amaya didn’t have a clue.

The pilot tapped on the window. Scarla plastered on a smile and rolled it down. “Hi there!”

“Good evening, Ms. Weston. I’m Captain Davis. Is there any luggage you need loaded?”

“No luggage, and I’m not the one flying today.”

Captain Davis ducked and peered into the car. “Whoa. What’s with the wings and strange eyes?”

“Cosplay,” Amaya blurted. “There’s a convention in Vegas I just have to get to.”

The pilot nodded. “Oh. Yeah, my kid is into that.”

Scarla shot Amaya a look that said, Wow. That bullshit actually worked? as the pilot walked around the car. Amaya hopped out before he got to her door.

He stared at the wings, his mouth slightly parted. “Did you build it yourself or did you hire someone? Because they did a fabulous job.”

If I say I built them myself, he’ll want details. If I say I hired someone, he’ll want a name and contact information. “It was a gift from my father. His last gift, that’s why I don’t want to take them off.”

Sorrow flashed across his face and guilt stabbed her. She hated lying but had no choice. She had to get to Vegas. “He really wanted me to enjoy the convention. I wish he were here to enjoy it with me, but…” Her throat burned as if she’d gargled with acid.

The pilot gently patted her shoulder. “Let’s get you to Vegas.”

* * *

“What do you mean that’s not enough blood!” Taige slammed Aiden into the bookshelf. Books, shelves, everything collapsed onto the Spaun. Aiden scrambled to get away, but Taige snatched him up and pinned him to the wall.

Aiden yanked free. He straightened his clothes and raked his hands through his disheveled hair. He strutted over to the pail and dipped a finger inside. His tongue snaked out to lick it clean. “A virgin Pina Colada has more punch than what’s in this pail.”

“How is that possible? She’s brat of an archangel. Seed of one of their loins. That’s the only way her blood could even smell like this. It should be potent enough!” He blistered Aiden’s ear.

“Don’t know. Are you sure she’s half archangel?”

Taige gripped the back of Aiden’s head and almost shoved it into the pail. “Can’t you smell it?

Aiden took a deep sniff and nodded. “Yeah. I suppose. I can’t explain why it’s so weak. The last drop of an archangel’s blood is what it took to close the portal. Her blood is so diluted we probably need to bring her here and squeeze every drop out of every organ.”

“I did,” Taige snarled, and spun away to pound both fists into a wall. “She was practically dead when I left her at the hospital.”

“Practically dead is not dead. We need the last drop.” Aiden dipped his entire hand into the pail. This time his tongue forked and cleaned every drop from his skin.

“Fine,” Taige snapped as he adjusted his clothes and smoothed his hair in the same manner as Aiden. “I know Malphas has the Cruor. It’ll take time to find it, but find it we will, after we find her.” He dipped his finger into the pail and licked it clean.

“Should be easy as it was before, especially with all this blood, which we no longer need.” Glee danced in Aiden’s eyes and Taige didn’t have to guess what he wanted. “Can I?” Aiden clapped and his tongue unfurled to dangle halfway down his chest.

“No! It may not be strong enough to open the portal, but there is another spell it may be suitable for. Even without the Halfling, all is not lost.”

Aiden retracted his tongue and pouted. He was smart enough to keep the rest of his disappointment to himself. “What is our next move?”

Taige sighed. “We go to Vegas, find what clues we can and then search the rest of Malphas’s strongholds. We will succeed,” he said more to himself than to Aiden.

Aiden bowed low in supplication, an honor the Spaun had never given Taige. The act elevated Taige to leader instead of co-conspirator. Two Spaun whose loyalty belonged to different Demoni Lords were now bonded in a silent pledge only death could break. Strangeness swept over Taige, the sensation so foreign it took him a moment to identify it. Ownership.

Taige shed the façade cloaking his true form and accepted the gift bestowed. He’d just acquired his first slave.