According to the laws of demon–mage relations, since he’d summoned her, he technically controlled her. But I knew from experience Valva wasn’t your typical demon.

The demon rolled her eyes and, with obviously reluctance, dismounted from Giguhl.

“Now,” I said to Tristan and Valva. “Explain yourselves.”

“I’m as confused as you are,” Tristan said. “I had no idea your minion was acquainted with Valva.”

“Oh, I’d say from the looks of things, they’re a little more than acquainted,” Nyx said, tongue firmly in cheek.

Back in New York, not long after I’d arrived and met Maisie for the first time, Giguhl had started fighting in Slade’s Demon Fight Club. Surprisingly, my Mischief demon turned out to be a fierce fighter in the ring and quickly became the demon to beat—that was, until Valva strutted into the ring. A few flicks of her blue peacock tail and Giguhl was a goner. Not only did he refuse to fight her, but he also declared his love for her the very same night.

Long story short, my twin had taken custody of Valva. It wasn’t Maisie’s choice since the Vanity demon bound herself to my sister, but the arrangement seemed to work out well for both of them. At first.

It was only later, after our grandmother had kidnapped Maisie, that Valva had shown her true colors. The drama went down in a vampire strip club in Los Angeles. We’d gone there to seek the help of an old ally in finding my sister. Unfortunately, the Vanity demon didn’t understand the meaning of the phrase “low profile” and had jumped onstage to work the pole. In addition to starting a riot among the vamp strippers, she’d also made such a scene that the Dominae’s guards found us.

Once we’d narrowly escaped the bar, Valva had turned on us when we tried to make her understand why we were angry. First she called me a controlling bitch. Then she’d turned on Giguhl, the demon she supposedly loved. She broke his heart and flashed out like she couldn’t wait to be rid of us.

But now we found out that she’d been helping Tristan. And I wanted some answers.

“Valva?” I said, raising a brow. “You want to explain yourself?”

She dusted off her tail feathers. “Not particularly.”

“Too damned bad,” Adam said, crossing his arms. “Why do you keep popping up? First you show up in New York and now you’re an informant for Sabina’s father. We deserve an explanation.”

She shrugged. “It’s simple. Since I can move between Irkalla and the mortal realm, Mom sometimes asks me to do little jobs for her.”

I rolled my eyes at her use of the word “mom.” I had a hard time imagining Lilith, the dark goddess and Great Mother, as anyone’s mommy.

“Little jobs like manipulating people?” Adam said.

The demon’s eyes shifted left. “Maybe.”

Tristan crossed his arms. “Will someone please tell me what you’re talking about?”

While Adam filled Tristan and his group in on our past experiences with Valva, I sidled up to Giguhl. “You okay?”

He kept his wary gaze on the Vanity. She was too busy interrupting Adam and adding her own version of the story to notice Giguhl’s regard. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just… didn’t think I’d ever see her again.”

“You and me both.” I patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry. With any luck we won’t have to deal with her for very long.”

He nodded absently but didn’t look as enthused about her eventual exit as I’d hoped.

“So basically what I’m saying is that given her history of deceit and manipulation, I’d suggest you seriously reconsider trusting any intel she’s given you,” Adam said to Tristan.

“Hey!” Valva squeaked. “I never lied to you guys.”

I glared at her. “Whether you spoke any lies or not doesn’t matter. You led us to believe you were Maisie’s minion and then you fucked us over in Los Angeles.”

She threw up her hands. “I didn’t have a choice! Mom called me back to Irkalla. I had to make a clean break from you guys.”

“Really?” Giguhl said finally, his tone hard. “You call that clean?”

Valva’s cheeks reddened. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But don’t you see? You wouldn’t have let me go if I hadn’t said those things.”

Adam, Giguhl, and I simply stared at her with pitiless expressions. She’d told Giguhl he had a small dick and was a lousy lay. Hardly necessary or fair. Because Valva was a Lilitu, the race of demons spawned directly from Lilith as opposed to the Shedim demons like Giguhl who were bound to Irkalla unless summoned by a mage, she could flash between the worlds at will. Therefore, she could have just disappeared without saying anything. Instead, she’d pillaged Giguhl’s heart and TNTed any chance of us ever trusting her again.

Valva’s lip started to tremble. “I’m sorry.”

“Save your tears, okay?” Giguhl said. “They won’t work on me. Not anymore.”

Valva made a little choked sound and ran out of the building. Nyx called after her and followed, presumably to comfort the demon.

Tristan sent a fierce frown at the demon. “That was unnecessarily rude.”

I snorted. “Whatever. She’s a Vanity demon, Tristan. Those tears aren’t real. Valva doesn’t care about Giguhl or any of us. You’d be a fool to trust anything she says.”

“Look,” Tristan sighed. “I’m sorry if you had a bad experience with her. But I trust her.”

I threw up my hands. “How can you say that?”

“Because she saved my life.”

I realized I’d been so thrown off by Valva’s sudden arrival that I hadn’t gotten the story on why she told Tristan that Maisie was the Chosen. “How?”

Tristan sighed, clearly impatient with the entire situation. “I’ll tell you but you’ll have to come to my room. There are some things I should show you.”

I exchanged a look with Adam. Would we finally start getting some answers now? “Lead the way.”

Chapter 21

Tristan led us through the manor house and down into the basement. On our way there, we saw no sign of Nyx or Valva. Probably they’d locked themselves in one of the villa’s rooms so the demon could whine about how mean we were.

Calyx and Horus had stayed behind to do tasks Tristan had given them. Giguhl had bowed out of joining us, saying he needed some alone time. Upon hearing this, Adam and I shared a tense glance but otherwise kept our mouths shut. No doubt there’d be a big discussion about Valva’s appearance later, but for now we needed to focus on getting answers from Tristan.

He led us through the villa and down a set of rickety steps to the basement. The instant my feet hit the ground, an overwhelming wave of death energy consumed me. “What the hell?” I gasped, swaying.

“Oh, it’s the Etruscan tomb over there.” Tristan pointed to a low opening in the wall. “I find it stimulating.”

I swallowed the bile that rose. “That’s one word for it.”

“Hmm,” he said. “Obviously you haven’t had very much training in your Chthonic powers.”

My mouth dropped open. “Yeah, my Chthonic father should have trained me but he disappeared before I was born.”

Tristan grimaced and turned away. He threw open a door and entered without another word. I closed my eyes and took a couple of calming breaths and willed the power in my solar plexus to equalize. Adam’s hand touched my shoulder. “You okay?”

I opened my eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Nice comeback, by the way. Did it make you feel better?”

“It did.” My lip twitched. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go.” He kept a hand on the small of my back as we entered. I felt fine, but I appreciated the connection.

Tristan’s room resembled a monk’s cell. A single twin bed sat in the corner. Little more than a mat on a spring frame with a single, thin blanket. No pillow. In keeping with the ascetic theme, his few possessions were organized with military precision. Shoes lined up neatly along one wall. A small chest with a pair of pants neatly folded on top. A single shirt hanging from a hook.

In fact, books were the only embellishments. Behind the table and chair in the “office,” the entire wall was covered in bookcases. Most people intersperse knickknacks among their books, but these shelves were filled top to bottom with tomes. Row after row of perfectly aligned books, arranged by size. The table was similarly organized. Tidy stacks of papers rested on either side. A pen was perfectly aligned across the top of the leather pad.

Adam and I stood next to each other across the desk from Tristan. The minute we’d entered, he’d beelined for the bookcases. With his back to us, he scanned the cracked leather spines lining the shelves.

Finally, he made a sort of aha sound and pulled out a single large volume. Its weight thudded on the desk, upsetting the orderly layout. Instead of opening it, he took time to right the pen and the blotter and align the books perfectly before he looked up. He was so methodical in this exercise I started to wonder if he had a little obsessive-compulsive disorder. Either that or he was buying time before he presented his evidence.

He came around the desk and leaned back against it with his head down and his arms folded. When he looked up, his expression was grave, like he was about to deliver bad news. “How much do you know about when I disappeared?”

I hesitated. I hadn’t expected him to start at the very beginning. “Enough. Rhea filled me in on some of it.”

“Rhea? I thought Orpheus would have told you.”

“He spoke of you some but”—I tilted my head—“he died before any of us knew you still existed.”

Tristan paled. “Yes, a great loss for all of magekind. Who is leading the Council now?”

“Rhea.”

Tristan’s eyes flared. “A wise choice. She’ll make an excellent leader.”