“Where’s Ziggy?” I asked, referring to the mage’s best friend and drummer.

Erron shrugged and played three discordant notes on the keyboard. “He quit the band. He and my stylist ran off to a private beach in the Caribbean.”

I frowned at him. “Wait, Ziggy ran off with Goldie?” Goldie Schwartz, in addition to being Erron’s stylist, was also a sassy midget with a predilection for kinky sex.

His nod was morose. “I guess they fell in love on tour. Zig said they’re talking about a Vegas wedding.”

“But why did he quit the band?” Adam asked.

“He said I’d lost my edge.” Erron laughed bitterly. “That having mortals in the band was ruining our original vision. I told him things were safer with the mortals, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Adam and I exchanged a look. Years earlier, Cain had decided to try and recruit Erron into his secret cabal of dark races troublemakers. When the Recreant refused, Cain had punished him by hurting his mage bandmates.

While it was tempting to talk to Erron about his drama, we had more pressing matters to discuss. Ones that tied in with his reasons for insisting on a mostly human band now.

He lifted the liquor bottle and toasted us. “Anyway, I’m not drinking alone anymore, thanks to you two.” He frowned like his brain was having trouble processing information. “Wait. Why are you here? I thought you were still in New York.”

I went still. “Zen didn’t call you?”

“No, why?” Erron looked me in the eye, his expression suddenly much more sober. “What happened?”

I motioned him to pass me the bottle. He handed it over with great reluctance, like I was stealing his security blanket. I took a long pull and savored the fire spreading down my throat and into my stomach. Adam shot me a look, but I ignored it. “You know the murders we discussed when you were in New York?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. I needed to get this out as quickly as possible. “After you left, there were two more: Tanith and Orpheus were poisoned at the peace treaty signing. One second they were toasting to peace and the next”—I snapped—“toast.”

“Particularly in Tanith’s case,” Adam added, referring to the way the vampire had exploded all over the unsigned treaty.

Erron grabbed the bottle back and took a bracing swig. “Who killed them?”

I hesitated. Putting the truth into words was harder than I expected. Luckily, Adam came to my rescue.

“Maisie.”

Erron dropped the bottle like it burned him. Glass shattered and alcohol pooled on the wooden floor. “What?”

“Turns out when your friend Abel imprisoned Cain physically, it didn’t occur to him that the bastard would be able to wreak havoc through his subconscious,” Adam continued. “He was controlling Maisie through the Liminal.”

Erron scrubbed his hand over his face like he was having trouble following. “What’s the Liminal?”

This was my area of expertise and was far less painful to explain. “It’s the plane between our existence and Irkalla. It’s also where our subconscious goes when we sleep. By the time we figured out Cain was manipulating Maisie through her dreams, it was too late. His hold on her was too strong. He made her perform the ritual to free him.” I swallowed the guilt lodged in my throat. “Then he… killed her.”

Erron blanched. “Maisie’s dead?”

I nodded because I couldn’t speak. Adam’s hand came up to rest on my back. Part of me wanted to resist the comfort because I worried it might make the dam burst open. But the other part of me was thankful I hadn’t come alone to talk to the Recreant. Hell, I was relieved Adam was around, period—after all, Maisie had tried to kill him, too.

Erron ran a hand through his hair and went to retrieve more liquor. As he uncapped the bottle, his hand shook. “So Cain’s free and you came here hoping I’d help you find him?”

“Yes,” Adam said. “We figure Abel is the best place to start. And since you’re the only one we know who’s actually talked to the guy…” Adam trailed off with a shrug.

“If Cain’s free from Abel’s spell, it’ll be a miracle if he’s still alive.”

I raised my chin with a bravado I barely felt. “Just so happens we’re in the market for one of those right now.” I refused to believe Abel was dead. It simply was not an option.

“That’s good because you’re going to need seven kinds of miracles to defeat Cain and survive. He can’t be killed, remember?”

After he had marked Cain with red hair for the sin of killing his brother—the original Abel—the mortal god, Elohim, declared that anyone who killed Cain would reap the punishment sevenfold. Therefore, killing Cain was a death sentence for you and all your loved ones.

When Adam and I didn’t respond, Erron started pacing and continued. “I know you’re hurting right now. And I know you think revenge is the only thing that will stop the pain. But as your friend, I’m asking you not to pursue this.”

I jerked as if he’d struck me. “How can you say that? You know I can’t just walk away.”

“Sabina”—he jabbed a finger toward me—“if you go to Italy, you will lose and Cain will win. Period.” He crossed his arms. “You want my advice? Run and keep running until you find a remote cave far from civilization. Take the Adherent and your demon with you, too, because he’ll go after them next. It’s the only way you’ll all survive.”

“I’d rather die than run.”

“Brave words are easy when you’re safe. Have you considered that Cain’s luring you into a trap?”

“I know he is. Just before he killed Maisie, he told me he wants me to use my Chthonic magic to help him access Irkalla. I think he’s planning on kidnapping Lilith.”

In addition to being the man who invented murder, Cain was also the psycho ex-boyfriend of the Great Mother. They’d created the vampire race together before Lilith kicked him to the curb to marry the demon Asmodeus and become the Queen of Irkalla. Cain was convinced he and Lilith belonged together, and most of his plots revolved around getting her back. But according to the prophecies of the Praescarium Lilitu, if any of the dark races gained power over the other races, Lilith would return to the mortal realm and kill us all. Every werewolf, faery, vampire, and mage would die. Cain’s obsession would have been sad and desperate if succeeding didn’t mean the destruction of all the dark races.

“Can you do that?” Erron asked. “Access Irkalla?”

I shrugged. “Rhea seems to think it’s possible.” Rhea was Adam’s aunt and the interim leader of the mage race. She’d also been my magical mentor.

“And you’re still planning on going after him? That’s just what he wants!”

“Which is why we need to find Abel,” Adam pointed out. “You said yourself he knows Cain better than anyone. He figured out how to trap the bastard once. Maybe he can help us find a new way to stop Cain before he destroys us all.”

“What if Abel is dead? What then?”

I shrugged. “Then I’ll try something else. But I’m going to Italy with or without your help. I just thought you…” I trailed off, letting the words float there like chum in water.

As expected, Erron attacked the bait like a hungry shark. “You just thought I’d what?”

“I just thought you of all beings would want to help stop Cain once and for all. This is your chance to make him pay for what he did to Ziggy and your old band.”

Ziggy had been deafened after a vicious attack by Cain several years earlier. But the drummer had gotten off easy. He’d lost only his hearing; the rest of Erron’s bandmates lost their lives.

Air escaped the Recreant’s lungs in a rush. “You’re playing dirty.”

“I don’t have the luxury of playing this clean, Erron. Now, are you going to help us find Abel or are you going to bury your face in a bottle of whisky until it’s time to kiss your ass good-bye?”

Erron took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for the inevitable. “All right. I’ll help you find Abel. That’s all I’m willing to promise right now.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.”

He stood slowly, like an old man instead of a powerful magical being. “You want to head out tonight, I assume?”

“I have some business to take care of first. We’ll leave tomorrow. What’s the time difference between New Orleans and Italy?”

He pursed his lips. “Seven hours?”

Adam nodded. “We’ll want to get there as close to dusk as possible so we can hit the ground running. Meet us at Zen’s by ten and we’ll head out.”

Erron looked me in the eye. “Are you ready for this?” By that, he didn’t mean the interspatial travel to Rome. He meant facing the tough choices I’d need to make to kill an unkillable foe. He meant, was I ready to sell my soul to get revenge?

My jaw clenched. “No, but I’m doing it anyway.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He raised the new bottle. “To justice, then.”

I grabbed the liquor and took a long, searing swallow. As heat spread down to my stomach, fortifying my resolve, I toasted him. “No, Erron, to revenge.”

Chapter 2

By the time Adam and I made it back to the French Quarter, it was close to midnight. All the bars and restaurants in the area were bustling with people. Mardi Gras was still a couple of weeks away, but the early parties filled the streets with revelers.

However, despite the festive atmosphere and bustling streets, Lagniappe’s doors were locked and every light extinguished. A weathered sign on the window advertised the bar’s infamous Gender Bender Drag Night, which happened every Wednesday. It was Thursday, but the place still should have been packed. Or rather, it would have been if the bar’s owner weren’t stuck in New York.