Naomi and Makani threaded the magic needle from the third to the seventh circle of hell. At the end of the trail, they stepped through a red door to enter Bael’s home base. It was not at all what Naomi had expected. It wasn’t a castle, a military base, or any other kind of fortress.

More than anything, the place resembled a wellness spa. Warm-toned tiles covered the walls—all except for one. That one held a very large painting nearly as large as the wall itself. The painting’s frame seemed to change color with the slowly-shifting overhead spotlights, turning from gold and purple, to bronze and green, to silver and blue, then back again. The painted strokes featured a beautiful unicorn. With a long and thin horn and a tuff of white hair curled under its chin like a beard, the unicorn was the kind you’d expect to find in old medieval paintings.

Naomi moved in for a closer look at the painting. “The unicorn is moving.”

Its hair flowed like it was caught in a gentle breeze. Its hooves pounded the ground, the clop-click-thumps a fast dance beat. Chimes echoed on the breeze. Naomi couldn’t take her eyes off the painting. She watched the repeating patterns of movement and sound over and over again.

Makani set his hands on her shoulders. “Look away, or you will be lost in it. The painting will suck you in, and you will become trapped inside it.”

Naomi noticed for the first time that there were other things in the painting, beyond the majestic unicorn. Figures were trapped behind cattle fences. They didn’t move. They were simply frozen in place, expressions of pure horror etched into their faces. Were these the people that the painting had already ensnared?

Naomi stepped back, fighting the desire to keep staring at the beautiful unicorn who was drawing her in. It was painful to look away. Like ripping off a bandage, she pivoted around quickly and turned her back on the unicorn. It sang out to her, trying to draw her back in.

Makani took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, tethering her here.

She glanced sidelong at him and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He was pointedly looking away from the painting.

Naomi looked across the room. There were no soldiers present. In fact, the room was devoid of people, besides the two of them. A swimming pool with three waterfalls shooting down from the wall filled out much of the open space. Dozens of lit candles dotted the wood deck around a hot tub, sweetening the air with the scents of vanilla and honey. Cream and red rose petals floated atop the water’s surface. Beside the hot tub sat a basket with a pair of folded towels and two packages of strawberries wrapped in red ribbons.

Past the hot tub, closed doors advertised that a sauna lay beyond the steamed glass.

This wellness spa felt like a peaceful sanctuary amidst the turmoil of hell. The atmosphere was relaxing, even disarming. But if that unicorn painting were any indication, Bael’s spa was more dangerous than a fortress or castle.

“What other traps do you think lie in here?” Naomi asked Makani.

“Knowing Bael, many. And they are undoubtedly hidden beneath a pretty package. He is a twisted, devious demon.”

A voice echoed over the gentle splash of falling water. “Makani, we haven’t spoken in centuries and here you are, uninvited, unannounced, breaking into my sanctuary just to insult me.”

They turned toward the source of the words. The speaker stood in front of the open glass doors to the sauna, a white towel wrapped around his waist. Steam poured out of the room behind him, billowing up around his body.

Slightly-damp brown locks brushed the tops of his shoulders. Hair lightly dusted his broad chest, blending with his bronze skin. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his looks, nothing to set him apart. He had a face like many others—typical, unremarkable, and easily forgotten.

He might have looked like the perfect replica of a human, but he was definitely one hundred percent demon. Naomi could feel it in his magic’s aura. On earth, a demon could hide itself inside a human host, even masking its magic. Here in hell, however, they could not disguise their true nature. This demon’s magic thumped like a war drum, steady and hard, always keeping the same constant rhythm. It smelled like peppered roses and tasted like chocolate-filled doughnuts deep-fried in chili pepper oil.

Makani shot the demon a look of absolute abhorrence. “You are far too shameless to be insulted by anything anyone says.”

“True,” the demon laughed.

Bael dropped his towel, leaving him butt-naked. He met Naomi’s eyes, daring her to blush. He obviously hadn’t dealt with many fairies. She met his brown eyes coolly.

The demon nodded at her in approval, which made her wonder if she should have scrounged up a blush. She didn’t like the idea of Bael approving of her actions, like she was walking the line he’d set out for her.

The demon strode toward them, grabbing a robe from a nearby table. He pulled it on, then sat down on a chair that was the day spa equivalent of a throne. Woven together from flexible wood, it was bright gold in color. And it didn’t even look painted; it had too many natural circles and wood waves. Naomi found herself curious to see what hellish tree the chair had come from.

Bael snapped his fingers, and a side door opened. An entourage of three people, two women and one man, all dressed entirely in white, entered the room. They surrounded the demon and proceeded to pamper him. The man slathered bright red paste all over his face in what must have been hell’s equivalent of a facial. One of the women began to file his long fingernails. The other woman massaged his feet.

“So, Makani. Here you are.” Bael leaned back in his poolside throne, looking completely relaxed. He didn’t seem the least bit alarmed by their intrusion. “Have you come to repent, to cast off your wicked ways and finally take your rightful place as my warlord?”

“For seven hundred years, I have told you no,” replied Makani, his face hard. “Nothing has changed.”

“Oh, that’s not true at all. Everything has changed. You’ve left the spirit realm, you’ve found a lovely companion.” Bael nodded at Naomi. “And you are going to be a father.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. He looked absolutely tickled by the notion. “I must admit I never expected children to be in your future. Don’t dragons eat their young?”

The fires of hell had nothing on Makani’s gaze. “No, that is demons who eat their young. Dragons protect their young with everything they have.”

“Oh, yes,” Bael chuckled. “That’s right.” He flicked his free hand, the one his manicure lady was not working on. As though he’d forgotten all about demons’ child-rearing atrocities. “But we only eat the runts, you know. No one wants a lineage of weaklings.” He wiggled his finger at Naomi, beckoning her forward. “Come on now, girl. Let me see this miracle of life.”

Naomi glared at him, her hands dropping protectively to her belly. As there was no baby bump to hold or rub, the gesture felt weird. And yet it felt just right, like protecting her babies was precisely what she was supposed to be doing.

“You come near any of us, try to touch us, and I’ll cut your hand off.”

Bael laughed. “I like her, Makani. She has fire. She’d make a fine warlord. And her powers would be useful.” His expression grew reflective.

“How are you not dead yet?” Makani demanded.

Bael frowned at him. “I would ask the same of you, especially considering the way you’ve been antagonizing my war bands.”

“You mean expelling your armies, sending them along their way, deeper into hell?” said Makani. “You have only yourself to blame. Get better warlords if you want to see better results.”

“Funny, Makani. Very funny,” Bael said drily. “I have been trying to hire a certain Dragon Born menace, but he’s dead-set on marching to his own destruction—and taking everyone he cares about along with him.” His gaze flickered from Makani to Naomi. “I know about your little conundrum. You should have joined me when you had the chance, Makani. I could have protected you. Now it’s too late.”

“Is it true you cast the spell?” Naomi asked him.

“Yes.” Bael looked like a kitten who’d just stolen a dish of milk.

Makani stepped forward, his magic primed. Naomi held him back. The demon and his three guards—because that was what the spa workers were, beneath it all—had not made a move against her or Makani yet. They met Bael’s eyes, silently asking for permission to attack, but Bael shook his head.

“We’re going to need you to reverse the spell,” Naomi told the demon.

Bael’s cool gaze slid over to Makani. “Become my warlord.”

“Is that your condition for helping us?”

“You are debating with yourself whether your children’s lives and freedom are worth betraying everything you stand for.” The demon smiled.

Makani clenched his jaw.

“You should see your face, Makani. It is priceless,” the demon laughed. “But I was only kidding. Yes, I cast the spell, but it was not one of my own design. I took it from the Shifting Realms spell book.”

“Give us the spell book,” Naomi told him.

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Bael barked a laugh. “And yet I find myself wanting to do as you ask. Your demand tastes like the promise of a bloodbath after a long and uneventful siege. Delicious.” He set his fingers against his lips and kissed them to punctuate his point. “That is yet another intriguing ability you possess, fairy. I wager you could convince my enemies to surrender, and they’d be perfectly happy to do so.”

“So you’re going to give us the book?” she asked, almost daring to be hopeful.

He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on a tea table. “Unfortunately, another demon stole the book from me last month.”

“Who?”

His smile was venom and sugar, all wrapped up in a tidy little package. “Rane.”

Rane was arguably the most powerful demon in all the realms. If she’d bothered to fight the other demons rather than live in isolation, she would have come out on top. She would have been their queen.

Desperation inspired insanity. “We have to go see Rane,” Naomi told Makani.

“I hope the Rane you’re referring to is not the crazy demon Rane.”

Rane was a unique demon. Her shadow magic allowed her to warp reality. And, unlike the other demons, she could live in her native form on both earth and in the spirit realm. Despite all her powers, however, she stayed in her own protected bubble, keeping well away from demon politics.

“One and the same,” Naomi said brightly.

“She won’t help us. She doesn’t like you. And she hates me. The last time we met, she tried to kill me.” Makani glanced at Bael. “And, besides, you can’t trust demons.”

The demon snorted.

“I know,” Naomi said. “But Rane knows more about earth magic and spirit magic, about the powers that bridge the realms, than anyone. And she has the spell book we need. She might be the only one who can help us.”