When Naomi and Makani left Bael’s spa through the red door, the demon didn’t even try to stop them. In fact, he looked amused. Naomi hoped that didn’t mean they were playing right into his plans, whatever those were. But what else could they do but follow this trail of clues, hoping it didn’t lead them into a trap?

Back at the Weeping Willow Roundabout, Valin and Brant were nowhere in sight. Perhaps, Bael had summoned his warlords back to base.

“We need to figure out the best way to approach Rane,” Naomi said to Makani as they entered the spirit magic stream.

“I think you are concentrating on the wrong problem.”

“How so? As you said, Rane isn’t particularly fond of either of us. But I’m pretty good at convincing people that they want to work with me, not against me.”

“You are indeed,” he agreed. “I remember an impudent fairy marching into hell and telling me that we would be working together.”

“Our goals were aligned. You just had to see that. And Rane will too. She’ll see that her goals and ours are the same. I’m sure of it. As soon as I figure out what her goals are.”

“I have every confidence in your powers of persuasion, but you are still concentrating on the wrong problem, Naomi. The problem isn’t Rane. It is Firestorm.”

“You think she’s holding back, that she knows something she hasn’t told us?”

“I think she knows a lot of things that she isn’t sharing with us. This whole thing could be one big deception.”

Frowning, Naomi looked down at her tummy. It still hadn’t popped. “You mean I’m not pregnant?”

“No, that part is true. I can feel the babies’ Dragon Born and spirit magic,” he said. “But what if the demons aren’t inside of you? We heard that from Firestorm, and she isn’t a very reliable source.”

“We learned it from Firestorm, but that information was backed up by Loring and Bael.”

“Who are both demons. What we know is that for the first time we can remember, the demons of hell are working together, united under the banner of Paladin and Paragon. And we know Darksire and Firestorm made a deal with those demons. This whole thing could be a deception.”

“But to what end? What would they accomplish by lying about this?” she asked.

“They’d keep us busy, chasing one dead end after the other. So while we are fighting to ostensibly protect our own children, we are not fighting the actual threat. The demons are free to set their plans into motion without our interference.”

Naomi had to admit he had a point. Demons’ schemes were nothing if not convoluted, full of deception and misdirection.

“This could all be a lie,” she said. “Or it could be completely true. This isn’t only about our babies’ lives, Makani. It’s about their free will. It’s about their bodies and magic being usurped by demons to destroy everything we love in this world, all that is good and decent, all that is worth fighting for. We have to go to Rane. She will tell us the truth. She’ll tell us if the demons are hiding inside our unborn children.”

“Rane is also a demon,” Makani pointed out.

“But she lives apart from the other demons. She doesn’t involve herself in their politics, and she doesn’t take part in their schemes. If she’s going to screw us over, she will do it all by herself, without any of the other demons. She doesn’t need them. She has the power to warp reality, to mold it however she wants, to reshape the world. She can walk the earth and hell, without a host, without tricks. If she decided to move against us, this would play out differently. Since she doesn’t need the other demons’ help, she wouldn’t share the glory with them.”

He blinked. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“We’ll make a monarch out of you yet,” he laughed.

She winked at him. “Well, as long as I get to wear a crown.”

They’d reached their exit out of the spirit stream. As they jumped out, Naomi opened a passage back to earth.

“Firestorm has been right twice now. Her intel has panned out,” she commented as they walked down the dark street toward home.

“As we discussed, she could be lying about this whole thing.”

Naomi sighed. “As much as I want that, because it means the demons are not inside of our babies, I think she is telling the truth. Something happened between her and Darksire tonight, something that changed everything for her. I can see the anguish in her eyes, how her pain is bleeding out of her soul. No one can fake that state of complete and total desolation.”

“We’ll see,” Makani said, his voice as hard as his eyes. “But I have known her for too long. I was there when she betrayed us all, and not one of us suspected her before it happened. Even if she didn’t lie about the demons inside our babies, she is playing us. She is trying to get us dependent on her, trying to get us to trust her. And the moment we trust Firestorm, the moment that we do something we’d usually never dream of doing because she says it’s the only way—that’s when she will betray us. That’s when the trap will close.”

“That is so…cynical.”

Makani wrapped his arm around her. “That is how we’ll survive, Naomi. It’s how our children will survive.”

When they stepped into the garage, Makani’s commandos were standing around Firestorm’s cage—barely. They all looked like they were about to collapse.

Naomi wondered how much time had passed while she and Makani were in hell. Time flowed differently there. Unfortunately, the hell panthers had broken her magic watch, a gift from Gran; it had displayed the time in all the realms.

There wasn’t a clock in the garage. Makani didn’t like having one around when he was working on his weapons. He thought time was an unnecessary distraction.

Firestorm was balanced in a headstand position, her legs folded together, resting on her elbows. She wasn’t moving at all. She looked so relaxed, so at peace.

“You do yoga,” Naomi commented.

“It calms the mind,” Firestorm replied, her eyes still closed. “And the soul.” Her eyes fluttered open.

Makani glowered down at her. “Your scarred soul deserves no peace.”

“Perhaps that is true, but my soul craves it nonetheless. Such is the weakness of human nature.” Firestorm unfolded her legs and rolled up, rising to face them. “How did it go with Bael?”

“Bael cannot help us,” Naomi said. “He no longer possesses the spell book.”

Firestorm’s brows drew together. “Who does?”

She wants to steal the spell book for herself, said Naomi’s inner cynic.

Makani would have approved. He believed that cynicism would save all their lives.

But Naomi believed the world could do with a bit more optimism. If you never gave someone the chance to be good, they could never take it.

“Rane has the book,” she told Firestorm.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“That complicates matters,” said Firestorm. “Rane is a formidable foe. Even the other demons fear her. If you’re planning on paying her a visit, you will need backup.”

“Backup like you?” Makani’s words cut like glass. “How convenient.”

He really thought Firestorm was leading them into a trap.

“We’re not expecting a fight when we visit Rane,” Naomi told her.

A harsh grunt came from Firestorm. Had the Fire Monster just snorted?

“We have had dealings with her before,” said Naomi. “Rane is…” Neither ally nor enemy. Neither friend nor foe. Rane was just something else. “Well, we think we can convince Rane to help us.”

Firestorm’s skeptical eyes mirrored Makani’s. “And why is that?”

“Because she has helped us before.”

Skepticism gave way to surprise. “When?”

Naomi shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Rane had helped them in the Shadow World. There was no reason to bring it up now. It was complicated.

“Do you trust Rane?” Firestorm asked her.

“Not really.”

“I see.” There was something about Firestorm’s expression that seemed so lost. So broken. Like she was barely holding herself together.

“I want to speak to Firestorm,” Naomi told Makani. “Alone.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

Perhaps not, but it was necessary. There was more to Firestorm’s story, more going on between her and Darksire. Whatever it was, though, she wouldn’t open up about it with Makani and his devoted followers standing here, glaring at her.

“She’s in a cage, Makani,” Naomi said when he remained firmly planted by her side. “And I can take care of myself.”

His gaze flickered briefly to Firestorm. Then he lifted Naomi’s hand to his lips. “If you ever feel in danger, send her off to hell where she belongs.”

The Prince of the Pacific sure had a flair for dramatics.

“Ok,” she agreed.

“Get some sleep,” Makani told his commandos.

They were so tired that they didn’t argue. They left the garage and walked to their house next door. As the garage door slid down behind them, Makani gave Firestorm a scathing farewell glare, then went into the house.

Finally alone with Firestorm, Naomi turned to her. “Why did you come to us?”

“I told you already. I learned that Darksire made a deal with Paladin and Paragon, to help the demon princes merge with your babies. That crossed the line.”

“No.” Naomi frowned. “Tell me what really happened.”

Firestorm’s grimace was almost painful. “After I learned of the demons’ true scheme, I questioned Darksire about what else he hadn’t told me.”

Naomi waited for her to continue. She wasn’t kept waiting for long.

“Seven hundred years ago, Damarion told Darksire to manipulate me. He tasked Darksire with the job of making me fall in love with him. They conspired to change my magic, to make me not entirely Dragon Born anymore. They gave me magic so powerful that I forgot myself, forgot who I was.”

“But why would they…” It hit Naomi like a brick wall to the face. “They wanted to create a rift between you and Makani—and between you and the other Dragon Born.”

“Yes.” Firestorm’s voice was as dry as the embers of hell. “Damarion feared the power of united Dragon Born twins. Our strength is our unity, the harmony of mind and magic that exists between us.”

So Damarion and Darksire had blinded her with power to tear her and Makani apart—and then they’d used her to eliminate the other Dragon Born, to turn the world against them.

“I gained powerful magic,” Firestorm said. “Terribly, delightfully, darkly powerful magic. But I also lost something. I lost the power to connect with Makani, for our magic to work together.”

Firestorm’s descent into darkness hadn’t started with her thirst for power. It had started when she’d given her trust—and her heart—to the wrong person.

“It was all a lie.” Firestorm’s voice hissed like water hitting burning stones.

Naomi’s heart clenched with sympathy. “What Darksire did to you was wrong.”

Firestorm’s dark gaze snapped to her like a whip. “I am not a good person, Spirit Warrior. I neither deserve nor desire your pity. If you feel sorry for me, you’re a fool. I did a lot of bad things in my time. Damarion’s magic corrupted me, but I could have resisted. I didn’t have to succumb. It was a test of will and morality, and I failed horribly.”

“Firestorm—”

“I am the wicked bitch of the Pacific,” she declared, her eyes burning, her voice ringing with conviction. “The Dark Angel. Pestilence. The Betrayer. I own up to what I am and what I did. But I want to set it right, at least as much as I can.”

The crazy thing was Naomi actually believed her. She believed Firestorm was repentant and that her heartbreak was sincere. For a moment, she imagined what it would feel like to find out that the one she trusted and loved most in the world had played her all this time. It hurt to just imagine it, and Firestorm had lived through it. Her pain must have been unbearable, but instead of shutting down, she’d come here to right her wrongs. She was stronger than either she herself or Makani gave her credit for.

Leaving Firestorm alone in her cage, Naomi went inside the house.

Makani was waiting, the unspoken question burning in his eyes: why did you want to speak to Firestorm alone?

“She is repentant,” Naomi declared.

“Impossible,” Makani scoffed. “She is a monster.”

“She might have done terrible things, but she is not beyond redemption,” Naomi argued. “There was a defining moment of morality, a turning point on the road of degradation that made her stop and question everything that she’d ever done. That turning point was her discovering the true depths of Darksire’s deal with the demon princes. That proves she had something left in her: love, fury, that moral compass the Dragon Born are so famous for.”

Makani kissed her forehead. “Your optimism, your ability to see the best in everyone, is one of the reasons I love you, Naomi. But your compassion is misplaced in Firestorm. Any hint of remorse she allowed you to see was carefully crafted. It’s a manipulation. Don’t waste your empathy on her.”

“She warned me about the same thing, you know. She called herself a monster. She said she will always be a bad person, and I shouldn’t care for her. She said that in my place, she wouldn’t trust her.”

He grunted. “The only genuine thing Firestorm has said in centuries.”

“But that bluntness makes me trust her more,” she told him. “Darksire played her. Damarion told him to make her fall in love with him. He and Darksire conspired to change her magic, to give her powers, to make her drift away from the other Dragon Born. And most especially from you.”

Makani remained adamantly unconvinced, seven centuries of mistrust in a nutshell. “She could have fought it. They may have set the path before her, but she chose to take it.”

“Love makes you do crazy things.” She glanced pointedly at her belly. “Crazy things like not kill demons while you still have the chance.”

Makani set his hands on her cheeks, his eyes shining into hers. “We’ll fix this. I promise you.”

Naomi cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Of course we will.”

She glanced at her phone, checking the time. Their trip to Bael’s had seemed to take only an hour, but a whole day had passed since they’d left for hell. It was no wonder Makani’s commandos had been nearly falling over. They’d watched Firestorm for twenty-four hours.

“We should go see Rane now,” Naomi told Makani. She was ready to end this. The anxiety was eating away at her. “And we should bring Firestorm with us.”

“That would not be advisable.”

“Rane will know if she’s telling the truth about her change of heart.”

The demon had a special power to cut through all the bullshit and see everything for what it was. She had spells that used your body and magic to channel memories, sifting lies from truth.

“Very well,” he agreed unexpectedly. “It’s about time we learned what’s really going on.”