Shaking the water from his hair, Alek jogged back to his truck, the cool night air seeping through his soaked clothes, his wet skin. When he reached his vehicle, he set the nymphenstern on the pickup’s bed, opened the tool box, and pulled out the towel and change of clothing he always kept there for visits to Arawn. With speedy efficiency he stripped, dried himself, and put on the fresh set of clothes.

Nymphenstern securely tucked in his jeans pocket, he hopped into the driver’s seat and checked his phone, which he’d stored in the glove compartment for his audience with the Demon Lord. His heart jumped into his throat. There were several missed calls from Lily as well as Dima, and text messages from both, asking him where he was.

Lily’s face before he left flashed through his mind, the utter despair, the tears glistening in her eyes, the hurt confusion when she saw him back out the door. She’d needed him, had reached out to him, not understanding what he had to do. And he couldn’t explain it to her.

He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to get the nymphenstern—unused, to boot—and the last thing he wanted was to get her hopes up, only to have to smash them again, should it turn out Arawn wouldn’t give him the stone, or it had already been depleted. He’d just watched her heart break in front of him—he would not have been able to watch it a second time if he’d returned from Arawn empty-handed.

Now, he didn’t hesitate before tapping the button to call her back. He listened to it ring, his mind scrambling for the right words to tell her the news. The call rolled over to voice mail. Frowning, he dialed again. No answer.

With a sinking feeling, he called Dima. He picked up on the second ring.

“Sasha, where the fu—” Dima cleared his throat. “—fudge are you?”

“Fudge!” Lucas shouted in the background.

“On my way back from Arawn. What’s going on?”

“I could ask you the same thing. What the hedge were you doing, leaving like that? Did Arawn summon you?”

“Hedgehog!” Lucas sounded closer to the phone now. “Can we have fudge?”

“Later,” Dima said. “Go play with your brother.”

“I had to get something for Lily.” Alek started the truck and maneuvered down the dirt forest road while holding the phone to his hear. He briefly explained the whole thing to Dima, whose laden exhale tickled all of Alek’s warning senses. “Dima, what happened?”

What his twin told him raised not only the hair on his nape but his blood pressure as well. His grip on the phone so tight the device threatened to crack, he clenched his jaw and sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “And you didn’t stop her?”

“Sorry,” his brother drawled. “I was all out of rope to tie her up with.”

His other hand gripped the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles whitened. “Where did they go?”

“You going to rush after her if I tell you?”

“Do I even have to answer that?”

A sigh on the other end of the line. “Fine. From what I heard, they planned it to go down near Gehenna.”

“Thanks.”

“Sasha,” Dima said right before he wanted to disconnect the call.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get killed.”

“I won’t. After all, I still need to whip your ass for letting Lily get away.”

* * *

Merle watched a dark blue van leave the fenced courtyard where the pranagrahas had dragged Lily. Her muscles itched to run after her best friend, her magic tickling along her nerve endings, ready to strike.

She glanced at the demon crouching next to her, his dark aura a caress she felt deep in her soul. “Is she in there?”

Rhun nodded, a lock of his chestnut hair sliding onto his forehead. “Positive.”

“Let’s give them a head start while we wait for Hazel.” It wouldn’t do to tail the van right away. If the demons sniffed so much as a hint that they were followed, it would jeopardize the whole mission. She blew out a breath. “I still don’t like this.”

“I know.” His warm hand on her nape, squeezing, comforting.

“What if they hurt her, Rhun?” Visions of Lily in pain flashed in her mind, of her suffering at the hands of these cruel bastards, her body beaten, broken, bloodied—images of another bruised and ruined body surfaced. Memories of a scene that was burnt into her retinas, would haunt her for the rest of her life.

“She’s not Maeve,” Rhun said, massaging her neck. “Lily knows how to fight, even without her witch magic. She’s tougher than a bag of nails, and strong enough to handle this situation.”

She arched a brow at her darling demon. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually like her.”

“What I’m trying to say—” Rhun straightened, enunciating each word clearly. “—is that after a few minutes alone with her, these guys will probably throw her at us when we come in. Hey, we may even get some money from them for taking her back.”

That earned him a hearty smack on his shoulder. He shot her a wicked grin that quickly melted as he cocked his head, as though listening.

“Hazel’s coming,” he said, nodding toward the other end of the alley they were using as their vantage point. Turning, he frowned. “And she’s not alone.”

And, sure enough, shortly after Hazel rounded the corner, another shape followed her. Merle rose from her crouch, her magic buzzing closer to the surface, before she recognized the man behind the other Elder witch.

“Basil.”

Rhun stood as well. “I thought he was supposed to stay at the house.”

At Merle’s mention of her son’s name, Hazel stopped and whirled around. “What are you doing here?” Agitated power pulsed around the older witch.

In the low light of the nearby street lamp, his hair shone like gold silk, a stark contrast to his hardening features. “I’m not going to sit at home doing nothing while you’re out here fighting.”

“Basil,” Hazel said, her voice measured calm, “you don’t have any magic, and you’re slower and weaker than any of the demons we’re going to fight. I won’t have you walk into harm’s way when you’re so ill-equipped to face it.”

A muscle feathered in his cheek. “I can fight. I’ve been on patrols with Lily and never had a problem holding my own.”

“This is different.” Hazel clenched her hands to fists.

“I can wield knives better than any of you, and with the bow and arrow, I can cover you from a distance, so I won’t be in the thick of things.”

Merle took in the quiver of arrows visible over his shoulder, and the bow Basil clutched in one hand. More than likely, he’d also strapped several knives and daggers in strategic places on his body.

Rhun leaned in, his breath hot and tingling at her ear, as he asked in a low voice, “He doesn’t use firearms?”

She shook her head, the movement brushing her cheek against Rhun’s lips, sending a thrill down her neck. “They don’t work on him, either.”

As one of the peculiarities of the magic that lived and breathed in witches and otherworld creatures, it somehow didn’t like firearms. When a magical being tried to use a gun, the weapon simply didn’t work—or worse, it backfired or exploded. If witches or otherworld beings wanted to use weaponry, they had to resort to pre-gunpowder arms. A small price to pay for the power that already pulsed in their blood.

“But he’s human,” Rhun muttered.

Shrugging, she whispered, “We’ve never fully figured out why, but we think maybe he still has enough magic in his blood to interfere with fire-powered weaponry.”

“Hm.”

Hazel stepped toward her son. “Go home. Please.”

Basil glared at her, eyes hard. “She’s my sister. I will be there to help her out.”

Hazel’s aura flickered with some strange emotion for a second, but then she caught herself and shook her head.

Merle cleared her throat before the other Elder witch could speak. “Let him come with us.”

Her eyes met Basil’s, and an understanding passed between them. Not too long ago, Merle had fought the same argument—stripped of her powers, weakened, and human, she’d gone toe-to-toe with Rhun about joining him to free her kidnapped sister.

Now she put a hand on Hazel’s shoulder. “He deserves a part in this.”

After a moment, the head of the Murray line gave a tight nod. “Stay as close as necessary for shooting range, and as far away as possible to avoid a close fight.”

The tension leaked out of Basil’s shoulders and he took a deep breath.

“Hi, man,” Rhun said, “good to see you with us. But, hey, you should really have a doctor look at that. Or a healer witch.”

Basil narrowed his eyes. “Look at what?”

“That…” Rhun gestured at Baz’s head. “You know…” He winced. “Oh, wait—that’s your face.”

Merle put a hand on Basil’s chest to stop him from lunging at Rhun. “Let’s start tracking,” she told her misbehaving demon through clenched teeth.

Rhun whirled toward the entrance of the alley, his aura snapping taut like a rope. “We’ve got company.”

Power bucking inside her, tingling at her fingertips, she pivoted and assumed a fighting stance. Behind her, Hazel’s magic crackled in the air, and the sound of an arrow being drawn whispered through the night.

Juneau Laroche slowly emerged from around the corner, flanked by four more witches, their magic drawn tight around them. Silver hair glinting in the lamplight, Juneau raised her chin. Slight of build, her movements betraying her age, she was nevertheless a force to be reckoned with. Her power drenched the air, filled every nook and cranny of the alley, slithered over Merle’s skin.

“Hazel,” Juneau said. “Merle.” Ignoring the two males also present, the Elder witch continued her speech. “It’s time to stop this foolishness. You’ve played your game long enough, and it’s time for you to pay due respect to our laws and hand Lily over.” Her deep green eyes narrowed. “I know you’re harboring her somewhere, so don’t pretend you’re oblivious.”

“Will you strike me, Juneau?” Hazel stepped forward, her move subtly shielding Basil. “I have broken no laws. Any aggressive action on your part would be an unsanctioned attack against a fellow witch—the same crime you’re accusing my daughter of.” Hazel turned to the witches flanking Juneau. “Thea, Catarina, Eva, Birgit—are you truly willing to violate our most sacred law?”

Catarina and Birgit exchanged a glance and shifted their weight, but Juneau’s voice—booming at a volume at odds with her small stature—rang out, made both witches flinch and stand at attention again.

“Our laws,” Juneau said, “do sanction action against those who hurt our community. Whether by harming one of our own—” her attention feathered from Hazel to Merle, then locked on to Rhun “—or by subverting our way of life and the traditions we live by.” Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper, though it echoed in Merle’s head like a shout. “We have been tolerant for far too long. These digressions cannot be allowed to continue, or they will destroy us. Demons are forged of evil, and there is nothing redeeming about any of them. We should not delude ourselves into thinking we can categorize them in shades of gray, when they are nothing but darkness.”

“See,” Rhun said to Juneau from his spot beside Merle, “this is what happens when you hold in your farts. All that gassy air bubbles up and fills your head, and then when you open your mouth to speak, instead of sensible words, all you utter are verbal farts.” He made little bubbling sounds and wiggled his fingers in front of his mouth. “So, please, next time you feel like saying something, do us all the favor and just fart. Let it rip. It’ll still be more palatable than your usual oral flatulence.”

Rhun! Merle shrieked along their mental connection. Are you batshit insane? You can’t say that to the most powerful Elder witch.

Come on, we’re all thinking it. And someone needs to take her down a peg. Besides, I don’t think she’s the most powerful Elder anymore. He made a meaningful pause, stroked her along the glowing thread that was their mating bond, such pride behind the caress. And Juneau knows it.

She couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her. So you think that’s what this is about?

Those used to power tend to get testy when it slips away from them, Merle mine.

Juneau’s magic grew into a buzzing crescendo, her eyes fixed on Rhun with a wild, murderous glint.

Gritting her teeth, Merle moved in front of her demon. “Hurt him, and I’ll make your heart explode in your chest.”

“If I were you, Juneau,” Rhun said quietly, stepping beside her again. “I wouldn’t doubt Merle can do it. Just ask Isabel. Oh—” One of his hands flew up to his mouth, his eyes widening in mock dismay. “That’s right. She’s dead.”

Rhun, Merle growled mentally. You’re not helping.

Well, she is beyond all help, little wi—

Rhun’s voice in her head died as he sputtered blood, collapsing to the ground, Juneau’s spell as silent as it was deadly.

“Rhun!” Merle threw a wave of power outward to cover them both as she sank to her knees next to her mate.

Around her, all hell broke loose, spells and arrows flying. She barely noticed. Pulling up a temporary wall of energy that would shield her and Rhun, she placed her hands on his body, sank her magic into him.

Don’t leave me, Rhun, she whispered along the shared pathway between their minds, healing power pulsing into him, trying to repair whatever Juneau’s spell had torn. You can’t leave me.

Her plea was met with silence.