They followed Firestorm’s directions to the seventh circle of hell and caught a magic stream up to Napa. It was one vineyard after the other here. It looked oddly similar to its earthly equivalent. The sky was different, of course, glowing a pale shade of orange with some scattered silver clouds. The heat was pretty intense here, as to be expected for hell. What wasn’t expected was how well all the grapes were flourishing in the scorching heat. Did it even ever rain this deep in hell?

The mercenary demon’s fortress turned out to be a large white villa. Huge columns flanked either side of the wide entrance, holding up the big balcony above.

Two creatures stood on that balcony, their hands gripping the rail. Both were lesser demons with bright blue skin, black eyes, and no hair whatsoever. Besides those unusual features, they were the exact size and shape of two human boys around ten years old. And true to their form, each one held a slingshot in his hands. The lesser demon on the left lifted up a stone burning with pink and yellow flames, and aimed it at Naomi and Makani.

Makani looked up and gave the boys a stern look. They scuttled away, frightened out of their wits.

Naomi chuckled.

“What is it?”

“You sure have a way with children,” she told him, still laughing.

“If they have done nothing wrong, they have nothing to fear.”

She snorted.

He frowned at her. “What now?”

“Don’t you remember being a child?”

“That was centuries ago, Naomi.”

“Children are regularly naughty,” she said. “They like to test boundaries, to see how far they can go. To figure out what they can get away with. And how much they can torture their siblings.”

“I’m sure I never did any of those things.”

“I’m sure you did,” she countered, grinning.

A contemplative look washed over his face. He seemed to be mulling that over.

“Fairy children are especially naughty,” she added.

“Not only the children.” His expression went from quietly contemplative, to downright indecent.

“Stop that,” she said, flushed. It was the heat. Yeah. Right.

“Stop what?” His voice was a low purr.

“Stop looking at me like I’m dessert. May I remind you that I’m carrying your children?”

“Yes, you may. But only because you asked nicely,” he replied. The smugness was dripping off him as surely as the sweat dripped down her flushed skin.

“Well, Your Majesty.” She planted her hands on her hips, tilting up one hip as she hit him with her sweetest smile. “It isn’t decent to look at a pregnant woman the way you’re looking at me.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting lectures on decency from a fairy.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with fairies?”

He cast a long look down the length of her body. “Nothing at all. I like fairies.” His tongue flicked out, tracing his lower lip with delicious slowness.

Naomi burst into laughter. “You’re as indecent as I am.”

“I certainly hope so.” His arm curled around her back, his hand settling on her hip.

She squeezed in closer to him, whispering against his lips, “I knew you were trouble the moment you tied me up in your war tent.”

“Delightful,” a voice tittered on the wind.

There was a flash of magic, then a demon was suddenly standing before them. At first glance, his rockstar threads and long, rugged dark hair didn’t signal ‘demon’. He was even sporting a three-day beard. But his eyes were a dead giveaway. Bright turquoise, they were layered like a hall of mirrors, shimmering with a thousand different reflections.

“Loring,” Naomi said.

“The Spirit Warrior.” His mirror gaze shifted to Makani. “And the Dragon Born prince. You two played me like a concert piano the last time that we met.”

The last time they’d met, Loring had assumed they were the warlords of a demon named Aero. Naomi had played along. They’d needed information at the time and she hadn’t wanted to make waves. Announcing in the middle of a demon bar that she was the Spirit Warrior driving the demons’ armies out of the upper circles of hell was a sure way to draw attention—and to turn everyone’s weapons on her.

“It was all in good fun,” she said, packing some extra sugar into her smile. A little extra sugar went a long way.

Loring’s laughter echoed off the canopy of silver clouds. She’d judged him right. He wasn’t as doom-and-gloom as most other demons. He didn’t get angry over perceived slights. He cared more about fun and profit. And her deceiving him at Hell’s Casino had not deprived him of either.

“Do come inside,” Loring said. “I’ll welcome you in my office.”

He vanished, reappearing a moment later at the end of the paved path that led up to the front door. The demon stood in the open doorway, waving them forward before he vanished once more.

Naomi and Makani strode toward the house, passing through the open door. Just inside stood a rail-thin man in a black suit that must have been baking him alive in this heat. He waited for them to enter, then closed the door behind them. The butler was another lesser demon, but unlike the two up on the balcony, he had the form of a grown man. If he were human, he’d have been in his early fifties. But he wasn’t human at all.

His skin was pale blue, his purple hair slicked back to hide the bald spot on the back of his head. As Naomi passed the butler, she realized the bald spot wasn’t natural. Something had torn a patch of hair out of him. That something had also left three scratches on the back of his neck; they looked like claw marks from a giant cat. Maybe a tiger. Apparently, hell was a dangerous place to lesser demons too. Or perhaps the butler had a very frisky pet kitty.

Loring appeared at the top of the stairs. He winked, then headed down.

“He might know why we have come here,” Naomi said as they followed the demon down the stairs.

“He did seem to be expecting us,” Makani agreed.

“And now he’s leading us into his dungeon to kill us.” Naomi looked down the seemingly endless spiral staircase. “Loring said he’d talk to us in his office. To a demon, that probably means a place with chains and spiked maces on the walls.”

Makani moved in front of her, making himself a barrier between her and the demon.

“I wasn’t actually serious, Makani.”

But he stayed in front of her. “If a fight breaks out, I want you to open a way back to earth and go through.”

“Leaving you here alone?”

“Yes,” he said with complete conviction.

“Firestorm must have hit you harder than I thought. Your brain is muddled if you think I’m going to leave you behind. My magic works better against demons than yours.”

“I’m trying to protect you.” He stopped and turned around, setting his hand on her tummy. “All of you.”

Naomi took his hand and lifted it to her lips. “I know you are. And I’m trying to protect you. We’re in this together.”

They descended the final stairs and entered a rustic lounge. Though they’d gone several floors down, daylight shone through the large glass windows. Yeah, hell didn’t always make sense.

Opposite the windows, the entire back wall of the lounge was a stone fireplace. A huge fire burned inside of it. Because hell wasn’t hot enough already.

An assortment of brown sofas with red cushions faced the fireplace, forming a cozy corner. Loring sat on one of these sofas, leaning back. One of his legs was crossed over his other knee. He looked totally and completely relaxed.

“Do sit down,” the demon said with a smile that only seemed to burn brighter with every passing minute.

Naomi and Makani sat on the sofa opposite his. Servants rushed in to set a tray on the wood coffee table between the sofas. A bottle of wine and three wine glasses sat on that tray.

Loring cocked an eyebrow upward at Naomi. “Not what you were expecting, Spirit Warrior?”

“No.”

He gave his hand a flippant flick. “I’m sure my staff can dig up a few chains and spiked maces if it makes you more comfortable.”

So he’d overheard their discussion in the stairwell. Oops.

Loring lifted the wine bottle from the tray. It bore a label with a burning rose, printed in crimson ink. “This wine is one of my favorites, grown right here in the seventh circle.” He looked at her like he expected her to say something.

So she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I wasn’t aware there was such a thriving wine industry in hell.”

He laughed. “Oh, there is. Earthly creatures often find the potent kick of hell’s wine too much for their delicate tastebuds.” A challenge rang in his voice. Was he daring her to taste the wine?

“Potent kick?” she said. “I trust that is not a euphemism for poison.”

The demon laughed again. “No. Certainly not. The dry, hot conditions of hell—coupled with the magic burning in the air all around us—creates a singular taste unlike any other. Particularly in the deeper circles of hell. There is a definite bite to hell’s spice. That’s the flavor of our wine. But it is not poisonous.”

So Loring was a mercenary and a wine connoisseur.

He poured wine into one of the glasses. The dark red liquid was almost black.

“Would you care to taste it?” he asked Naomi smoothly.

“No, thank you.”

Under normal circumstances, she might have tried it, mostly because she felt like this was some kind of test. But she wasn’t going to rise to the challenge now, not when she was pregnant. The wine might not hurt her, but she didn’t know what it would do to her babies.

“A glass of wine will put some color in your cheeks,” the demon said with a smile. “And put some fire in your heart.”

“I don’t really need any help with that.”

“Fair enough.” Grinning, Loring glanced down at her flat tummy like it was the size of a hot air balloon.

“You know which demon cast the spell that put Paladin and Paragon inside of my babies,” she told him. “You are going to tell us which demon that was.”

Smiling, Loring looked at Makani. “She is positively delightful.”

Makani’s glare had more spikes than a demon’s dungeon.

Sighing, Loring lifted his glass, swished it around a few times, then sipped from the wine. “What can you offer me in exchange for this information?”

Naomi had figured she would need to offer payment. Demons didn’t help you for nothing. They were obsessed with making deals.

Luckily, she knew Loring’s weakness. She remembered how he’d lamented the lack of chocolate at Hell’s Casino.

“Will this do as payment?” Naomi reached into her bag and pulled out a huge box from Madame Meringue’s House of Chocolate, specially packed in an insulated sleeve to withstand the heat. She slid off the sleeve and opened the box to reveal neat rows of delectable little chocolate balls.

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes. That will do nicely.” The demon couldn’t take his eyes off of the box. “There’s a terrible chocolate shortage in hell. It’s nearly impossible to store. It melts right away on account of the heat.” Licking his lips, he reached for the chocolate box.

She pulled it out of his reach. “Information first, then chocolate.”

“It’s melting.” Loring watched the box, a look of pure horror on his face.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed with a smile. She didn’t slip the box back into the cool sleeve. “So you’d best hurry.”

“You’re a shrewd negotiator, Spirit Warrior,” the demon chuckled. “The spell you’re referring to is a very special kind of magic. The power to merge supernatural magic and demon magic, to merge supernatural souls and demon souls—is a specialty of the demon Bael.”

Naomi handed the box of chocolates to Loring, who immediately began to devour them at an alarming pace.

“Bael,” Makani said, his hard eyes meeting Naomi’s.

Bael was the demon whose warlords had plagued Makani for the centuries he was trapped in hell. Even as far as demons went, he was supposed to be particularly nasty.

“Well,” Naomi said, watching Loring snarf down the remaining contents of the box. “Do you think Bael likes chocolate?”