The first hazy rays of morning sun bled into my room, waking me from my deep sleep. I’d been dreaming of the four black suns again, looming over the Earth.

But I had to clear the cobwebs from my mind quickly. Today, I had to make sure I was in the right place when Yasmin called. I lit a candle at the side of the bed, then snatched it up to investigate our communication portal. Yasmin could appear anywhere in this place—and with any luck, it wouldn’t happen when the sentinels were watching.

I snatched an almond croissant from a tray on the bedside table, chomping into it with enthusiasm.

As I crossed the chilly flagstone floor in my bare feet, I wished desperately for a warm bathrobe and slippers. How quickly we got used to luxury. I’d only just arrived here, and already I’d moved on from appreciating the bed and food to desiring specific clothing items.

With one eye on the window for sentinels, I scurried around the room, searching for signs of movement in the reflective surfaces while stuffing my face with the pastry. According to my calculations, I only had about one minute left before another sentinel appeared.

So when Yasmin’s dark eyes and hair shimmered into view in a mirror hanging on one of the walls—directly across from the windows—my heart leapt into my throat. As quickly as I could, I used the candle to signal no, to tell Yasmin to bugger off for a few minutes.

Could I get her into the bathroom—the spot with the mirror the sentinels couldn’t see? Maybe the scryers could actually find my exact location.

After a few more false starts in candlestick holders and the side of the coffeepot, I finally met Yasmin’s reflection in the bathroom mirror, tucked safely into the alcove.

I signaled with the candle five times and watched her shimmering face smile with relief.

She held up a handwritten sign: Thank you for your work. Then she leaned down, scribbling again. She held up a second sign that said, Alert us at the first sign of danger to London.

She waited a moment to see if I would signal that I needed to meet right away. When I didn’t, her image shimmered away, leaving me faced with the charming sight of my flaky, crumb-spattered nightgown.

It all seemed a bit pointless, but at least I knew I had a slight lifeline here.

Just as I was crossing back into the bedroom, a knock interrupted the silence. So I had a morning visitor.

“I’m not dressed yet!” I called out.

Of course, no one here actually cared if I was dressed or not, and the door edged open.

Relief loosened my chest as the dark-haired servant poked her head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt you, miss. Madam. Your… highness…”

Your highness? “I’m a succubus, not a royal. Just go with Ruby. And what is your name?”

“Susie. Just Susie.” She scurried into the room. “I’m here to deliver a message. The Dark Lord desires to meet you tonight.” She pointed to the oak wardrobe by the bed. “You can find a suitable dress in there, and I assume you’ve discovered the bath—”

I held up my hands. “Back up a second. The Dark Lord?”

She nodded, fear etched on her pale features.

“Adonis?” Just a guess.

“Yes.” She wrung her hands, looking out the window. A sentinel drifted past, watching us. When the creature disappeared from view again, Susie met my gaze steadily. “You’ll also find your… other things in there.” She cleared her throat. “You’ll want to look sharp tonight.”

Sharp… sharp like a knife? The emphasis on the word hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Understanding began to dawn. She’d hidden my weapons—maybe the arrows, maybe the knife. And what’s more, she seemed to think I needed to come armed to my little meeting with the Dark Lord tonight.

* * *

I spent the day reading books and searching the room from top to bottom. The door to my room remained locked, and I was picking up absolutely no intel in here. On the plus side, I’d quickly discovered my Nyxobian knife hidden in the wardrobe. I couldn’t spend much time examining it, since the sentinels were always just a few minutes away from swooping by, but I’d found it hidden under a panel, and its presence made me feel a lot better.

I was under no illusions. I was here as a prisoner of sorts. Granted, my prison had silky bedsheets and the most amazing food I’d ever tasted, but it was a prison nonetheless.

I crossed to the window, pressing my palms against the cold panes. Outside lay a dark forest of oak, hazel, elder, and ash trees—the boughs strangely verdant for January. Overhead, a flock of crows swarmed from the trees, cawing wildly.

As a sentinel floated past, awkwardly close to the window, I jumped back, before pressing my nose against the glass again.

Yasmin had told me that the Old Gods would provide. She seemed to believe that the key to our salvation lay in the woods around the castle. I couldn’t really tell if she knew what she was talking about, or if she was just a mom desperate for a solution to safeguard her child’s life. But in any case, I had to get out into those woods when I could.

In the distance, between two ash trees, a creature slipped between the trunks. I squinted, using my fae senses to pick it out. Was that a… a boar? Since when had wild boars returned to the English forests?

Of course, someone like Kratos was a born hunter. I could imagine him galloping on horseback through the forest in search of his prey.

I traced my finger over an aged window pane. Where would I find that Devil’s Bane Yasmin had promised me? According to her, that was the key to human survival.

If I was going to find it, I needed Kratos to trust me so that I could snatch a moment of freedom.

I mean, assuming I made it out of my evening with the Dark Lord alive. Best not to dwell on that particular terror right now. Might as well lose myself in books until I had to face him.

After grabbing another pastry, I climbed a ladder to the balcony, where Kratos’s old books lined the walls.

I spent the next few hours on the balcony, poring over a book about the history of Tudor prostitutes, looking up only when Susie brought my lunch into the room. I spent the day reading in the firelit room, while working my way through roast chicken and bread pudding.

When the sun began to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows like bony fingers over the grassy earth, a cold chill rippled over my body. Almost time to meet with the Dark Lord.

I blew out a long breath. Best get on with it. I slammed my book shut. My march down the stairs toward the wardrobe felt only a little like a final death march.

Sucking in a deep breath, I flung open the wardrobe I’d searched earlier. Here, a row of stunning dresses in jewel-like colors greeted me—a few more in black, midnight blue, and ivory. Just as I’d done before, I ran my fingertips over the fabric—the most delicate silk I’d ever touched.

I scanned the lower shelf of the wardrobe, where I’d found my quiver earlier, next to a pile of neatly folded underwear.

I cast a quick glance behind me and waited for a sentinel to float by.

I didn’t suppose Kratos would ever trust me enough to afford me the luxury of curtains? No, that was probably ridiculous.

After another minute, the wide-eyed sentinel drifted past. Four to six minutes. I began counting.

Once he was out of view, I dropped down, the flagstones biting into my knees. Carefully, I ran my fingers around the lower shelf until I felt a break in the smooth wood. Here we go. Slowly, I slid my fingernails into the gap, pulling up a small panel of wood, exposing the small hollow in the bottom of the wardrobe.

I slid my hand inside, feeling around the gap until my fingertips brushed metal. Bingo. I reached for the hilt, then pulled out the knife Yasmin had given me. For just a moment, the Nyxobian silver glinted in the light. And next to it—helpfully—Susie had left my thigh holster.

Kratos had seen the bow and arrow and had probably ordered them taken from me. But the only person who knew about the knife was the woman who’d undressed me. If she worked for the Order, I was pretty sure Yasmin would have mentioned it, but maybe she just hated the angels as much as I did.

I tucked the knife and holster into a corner of the shelf and cast another quick look back at the window.

I’d let the sentinel catch me dressing like a normal succubus—a harmless, non-assassin sort of demon.

Let’s see… what dress should I choose to meet the Dark Lord, the terrifying predator who hated my entire race? Perhaps a nice midnight blue. Maybe if my dress matched his wings and his eyes, he’d be less inclined to rip me in half with a flick of his wrist.

I pulled the dress off the hanger, my breath catching at its beauty. Once, I’d lived among shining, beautiful things, danced in the most stunning gowns and beaded costumes. I stroked my fingertips over the sheer, sleeveless dress, and the silky fabric shimmered. Would it be opaque enough to hide the knife? I’d find out.

I pulled the blue gown over my head, wincing for a moment at the dull pain in my shoulder, still a little sore from the gunshot. As I lowered my arms, the silk slid luxuriously over my bare skin, skimming over my thighs and down to my ankles. Now this was a dress fit for an ancient succubus.

A deep slit ran all the way up the right leg, ending just below my hips. The front of the gown plunged to my waistline, the narrow fabric exposing the curves of my breasts. There, the fabric was layered just enough to be opaque.

Given the way the thin fabric was layered, I could conceal the knife on my left thigh.

I glanced in the mirror, smiling at what I saw there. My crimson hair tumbled over my shoulder, its vibrancy a sharp contrast to the dark gown.

While I waited for the sentinels to drift past again, I put on shimmering makeup, a hint of rose on my cheeks, a bit of black eyeliner. Nothing threatening here.

Then—immediately after the sentinels swept past the window—I lunged for the knife, strapping it around my thigh.

Granted, by the time I had a chance to reach under my skirts and pull it out, Adonis could slice my ribcage in two with a single breath, but…

Again, best not to dwell on these things.

I’d just have to watch him very carefully, to try to understand him, to predict his actions. I had to know what he might do before he acted.

A knock sounded on the door, and my pulse began to race. Already?

I slipped into a pair of heels, then hurried toward the door.

To my surprise, I found Kratos standing there, his amber eyes gleaming in the gloom of the castle hall.