“Because he’s a hellhound. They’re hard to kill, but The Aegis shot him with an enchanted slug. He would have died if not for you. They don’t give their bond over to just anyone. You made a major impression, and he gave you his life.”

“Gave me his life?”

“Hell’s Kiss bonds your life forces. Any time you’re injured, you’ll draw from him and vice versa. You’ll both heal with supernatural speed. The catch is that if he’s injured, you’ll feel the drain on your energy. The more severely he’s hurt, the worse it’ll be for you. It’s possible that he could completely drain you to death.”

She tugged down one of her sleeves that had ridden up to expose her forearm. “Aren’t you the bearer of fun news.”

He shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, being bonded to a hellhound lengthens your lifespan.” At least, it would if she wasn’t hosting an agimortus, which would likely drain her faster than the hellhound’s life force could recharge her. “He must have been seriously grateful, because hellhounds are immortal, but by bonding to a mortal, he lost his longevity. He’ll still be hard to kill as long as you’re healthy, but when you die, so will he.”

She pondered that. “Are you immortal?”

“Yes. But with most immortals, there are ways to kill them—vampires will live forever unless they’re exposed to sunlight, beheaded, or staked in the heart. But I’m indestructible. I can’t be killed.” Except by Deliverance, the dagger forged specifically to take out the Horsemen.

“Vampires are real?” Cara wrapped her arms around her midsection as though trying to hold herself together. He hadn’t had the same luxury when he learned the supernatural world was real—his arms had been shackled behind his back as he watched his wife tortured and killed. “Okay, so how did my helping the… hellhound… get me involved in all of this?”

“I told you Sestiel took the hound to keep his own whereabouts hidden. He’d been targeted for assassination and needed protection.”

She looked down at her feet again, which were pale even against the white marble. “Why did someone want him dead?”

Now things were going to get tricky. He gestured to the black leather three-piece sectional sofa that Limos had made him buy. Because every guy needed to seat twelve full-grown men on a freaking couch.

“Sit. I’ll send for some food if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not hungry. I don’t want to sit down.” She crossed her arms over her chest in stubborn defiance. “I want to know what the hell is going on.”

Ares was not accustomed to taking orders, and he made that clear with a firm, “You know what you need to for now.”

“Really?” An angry flush reddened her face to her hairline. “I know everything? You said before we left the hotel that I was in danger. What about the people at the B&B? Did it blow up? Is that what happened? Did people die because I’m the one in danger?”

“Cara—”

“Tell me! I’m still on the fence about how much of this to believe, so I need some answers, and I need them now.”

His feathers ruffled at her command, and okay, if she wanted it, she was going to get it, uncensored and uncut.

“Yes. Those people died because you were in danger. The B&B was engulfed in infernal fire.” Which was forbidden to use in the human realm, but no one was going to police Pestilence. “Spirits straight out of hell hunted down every human within range of the heat and burned them alive while sucking the souls out of their bodies. They would have been seared from the inside out. It’s a f**king hellish way to die, and worse, their souls are now trapped in hell with no hope of ever getting to Heaven.” Her sea-water eyes teared up, and although he had the oddest urge to try to comfort her, he went in a direction he was far more comfortable with; drill sergeant. “Listen up, human. It sucks that you got caught up in this, but you did, and you’re here. There’s a lot at stake, and you’re going to need to do some serious toughening up if you want to survive. A lot of people are going to die before this is over, so dry the tears and deal. Right now you’re the most important human on the planet, so act like it.”

“You bastard,” she rasped.

“Yes, I’m a bastard. Literally. And you are the recipient of Sestiel’s agimortus.” He closed the distance between them in two strides and tore open her pajama top, flinging buttons everywhere. Cara shrieked and tried to get away, but he caught her with one hand around the back of her neck. He jabbed his finger into her chest, over the symbol there, ignoring the way it seared his skin and watered down his muscles. “This is an agimortus. This is something that only a fallen angel is strong enough to bear.”

“Let go, you perv.”

Not happening. Not until he’d drilled his point home. “Think about what I’ve just said, Cara. Only fallen angels are supposed to be marked with this, and all you can think about is your exposed hooters?” And what nice hooters they were. It took every ounce of military conditioning Ares had not to stare. He was a bastard, but he wasn’t a sicko who got off on scaring women.

Cara shoved at his shoulders. “Get your hands off me, and I’ll ask the damned question you want me to ask.”

Stepping back, he watched with amusement as she yanked the shirt back together, the little sheep rippling angrily on the cotton candy flannel. “Go ahead. Ask. Prove you’ve got some brains in that pretty little head.”

“Jerk,” she spat. “I’ll play your game. So tell me, if only fallen angels can have this agimorty thing, why do I have it?”

Smart cookie. He’d have smiled if the answer wasn’t so dire. “Because fallen angels are currently on the endangered-species list. So the only other being Sestiel could transfer it to is a human. Unfortunately, humans can only bear it for a matter of hours, but because you are bonded to the hellhound, Sestiel must have wagered that you’d have a little more stamina.”

She lost a little color, but her expression remained nice and pissed off. Excellent. No wailing or vapors. “Was he right?”

“Yes, but it won’t last. You’re drawing on Hal’s life force to stay alive. If we don’t find a fallen angel to transfer the agimortus to, you’ll both grow weaker, until eventually, he dies.” Ares had to hand it to Cara, because although he saw in her eyes the exact moment what he’d said sunk in, she remained calm.

“And when he dies,” she said flatly, “I do, too.”

Slowly, deliberately, he reached for her, and this time she didn’t protest when he tugged open her top to reveal her br**sts. Between them, the brand cut starkly into her skin, the red lines raised like fresh whip lashes. “Look at it. As crimson as fresh blood.” She didn’t flinch as he traced the tip of his finger along the top edge of the shield. “It’s going to fade as the hours pass, as you begin to die. When it’s the same color as your skin, time’s up. It’s a stopwatch, Cara.” He pressed against the very tip of the blade, watching as the flesh turned white and began to refill with blood. “And time is running out.”

Nine

Cara stood there like a deer in headlights, her mind spinning, her heart pounding. “I think I need to sit down after all.”

Her feet were leaden as she moved over the marble floor to a thick throw rug, on top of which sat a huge coffee table designed like a chessboard. She knocked over two game pieces the size of soda cans as she sank down in an overstuffed leather chair.

“You like chess.” Her voice was hollow, her observation plain moronic.

“Yes.”

“You’re good at it, then?” Another moronic statement. She was discussing something as mundane as chess when Ares was talking about fallen angels, demons, and her death.

He righted the pieces. “No one has ever beaten me.”

“Remind me not to challenge you to a game,” she muttered.

“It would be wise not to challenge me to anything.” He swung toward one of the exits on the far side of the room and shouted for someone named Vulgrim.

His arrogance, while probably justified, irritated her, and she welcomed the annoyance. Anything was better than being afraid and confused. But before she could say anything, a hulking creature with ramlike horns and a broad snout stalked into the room, his hooves clacking on the floor. He—at least, she thought it was a he—wore some sort of leather tunic over chain mail that must have something else underneath it, or his thick, tan fur would have gotten pinched in the links.

She’d thought nothing could possibly freak her out more than she already was, but she assumed her best imitation of a stone statue, trying to be as invisible as possible as Ares spoke to the thing.

“My lord?” the thing rumbled.

Ares inclined his head. “Vulgrim, bring orc-water for the human. Instruct the others that she is to be given anything she wants.” He slid her a meaningful glance. “Except freedom. She is to be guarded with your lives.”

Orc-water? Surely he said orchid-water. Like rose-water. Only with orchids. God, she wanted to laugh like a maniac right now, because there was a monster in the room, and she was thinking about flower water. She eyed Ares and revised her thought. There were two monsters in the room.

Vulgrim bowed, wheeled around crisply on his hooved feet, and disappeared down the hall.

“What—” she cleared her throat to get rid of the humiliating hoarseness “—what was that?”

He peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch. “Ramreel demon. I have thirty on staff as servants and guards. They won’t harm you.”

Of course not. Because why would demons harm her? “Do all demons look like goat-things?”

He inhaled deeply, as though gathering patience to answer her questions. “There are as many species of demons as there are mammals on earth, though many appear as human as you and I. We call them ter’taceo. You’ll be able to sense or see some of them now that you’re part of this world.”