If Sam’s connection to On High wasn’t helping us so much, I’d hate it beyond the depths of my soul. But it was there, directing him, feeding him information so that he knew exactly where to take us. We appeared in the middle of a hotel lobby, dead bodies surrounding us, the scent of carnage in the air. Some were tweens, mostly elves, wearing the armor of one of the clan’s royal guardsmen. The rest were humans, dressed in robes of Lucia’s followers. Thralls and priests, no doubt.

Based on the severed limbs and mortal wounds, Ania’s bodyguards hadn’t gone easy on them.

My blood stirred, jealousy snaking through me. Jealousy that I hadn’t been given that same opportunity. Or rather, I had, but my fathers’ influence kept me from acting on that bloodlust.

I scanned the room, searching for anyone that still breathed, but no one moved. “Where’s Ania?”

Sam turned and headed down a nearby hall. “This way.”

I didn’t ask how he knew. This was one of those times it was best to trust divine guidance. On High wasn’t usually on my side, what with being related to Satan, but they were on Sam’s.

We strode down the hallway, stepping over bodies and skirting pools of blood. We came across the bodies of humans wearing hotel uniforms and others dressed in casual clothes—employees and hotel guests. Some might have been thralls simply on vacation before Lucia took over their minds. Others might have been innocents caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. With the carnage around us, there was no way to separate good from bad.

Though, I supposed when people like Sam and me were allies, telling the difference between dark and light was a bit difficult.

Uncle Luc would love that. He was all about blurred lines and gray areas.

We reached a door at the end of the hall—two elven guards slumped on the ground across the threshold. Their armor was stained in blood, silver painted red, and they still clutched their weapons. One clung to life by a thread and I crouched by his side, checking his pulse. Weak, too weak. He didn’t have long.

His eyes fluttered and he looked up at me. His grip tightened on his sword, attempting to lift it, but he was too weak to move.

I touched his hand, pushing it down. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

“The blessed mother,” his voice cracked, pain lacing the tone. “She must…”

“I know. We’ll get her someplace safe.” I repeated three words I’d heard countless times over the years. Not from my mother’s people, but from my fathers. “Be at peace.”

He gave a weak nod, his eyes fluttering closed, and went limp. He’d held on just long enough to pass his duty to someone else.

I pushed to my feet and Sam was there, at my side as I reached for the door. We carefully moved into the room, searching for any threat that remained. There was no way Lucia’s followers would go as far as killing everyone only to stop at that door.

Unless wanna-be-goddess toyed with us.

I wouldn’t put it past her, which pushed me to move quicker. Let her be cocky and hang back. We’d simply bolt before she could spring her trap.

I tipped my head back, sniffing the air, and caught the scent of a human woman. I followed the aroma, sword still gripped tightly as I sought any lingering threat.

The teasing scent came from the bathroom—the shower. I grabbed the curtain and wrenched it aside. A woman cowered in the tub, gasping when I revealed her hiding spot.

“Please,” she stared up at me with wide eyes. “Please, don’t hurt my baby.”

“I won’t.” I gestured to Sam. “We’re the good guys.”

Good-ish, anyway. She didn’t need to know about Uncle Luc.

She hesitantly rose, fingers gripping the sides of the tub while she pushed to her feet. Her attention bounced between Sam and me, fear making her tremble. She was young, maybe early twenties, and couldn’t have been more opposite of Nancy. She wore a black t-shirt, metal-head band logo on the front, and a denim skirt that strained against her big, pregnant belly. Her eyes were lined in dark liner, and her hair was dyed a bright shade of pink.

Pretty.

“You’re Ania?” I raised my eyebrows.

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “My protectors…?”

Sam reached out and touched her arm, and I suppressed my wolf’s instinctual response to his hands on another woman. But I resisted, barely. I pushed the animal back, reminding it of our mate’s purpose now.

He was a gel; he had his feather. This was part of who he was.

“They gave their lives to save you, but fear not. We will protect you now.”

I’d forgotten how gels were all formal when they spoke.

“Good luck with that,” a soft purr came from behind us.

I whirled, raising my sword in a single fluid move, body tense and ready to fight. Lucia stood there, a small group of thralls at her back along with the priest who’d attacked us at Momma R’s.

She was clearly gaining a lot of power if she was able to teleport herself and the priest to Texas from Orlando. I could practically feel her strength crackling in the air, the fine hairs on my arms standing on end.

“Sam,” I moved to stand between him and Lucia, “get us out of here.”

He touched my shoulder and something lurched, my stomach twisting into a knot like a roller coaster had just plummeted down a hill, but we didn’t go anywhere.

Lucia had her hand raised, fingers bent like she held something tightly.

She was holding us in place with her psychic powers. “Now, now, I can’t let you take my gift away before I crack her open and get my toy surprise.”

Ania let out a frightened whimper. I clenched my teeth and tightened my grip, ready to defend the panicked woman.

Though I seriously hoped Sam could do his thing. Soon.

Mainly because the thralls rushed me.

“Sam!”

“I can’t fight her power,” he grunted.

Two thralls swung swords at me, going for blood. Old swords—elven swords. Swords they were unworthy to look at, let alone touch. I backed up and used the doorway as a bottleneck. They couldn’t all race through the small opening. I parried their attacks, kicked one in the gut and knocking him into the other. One swung a fist at my head and I grabbed him by the wrist, rage boiling inside me. It churned and flickered, blood heating, bones warming me from inside out. I couldn’t hold back this time.

If I did, we were dead. Fuck that, the world was dead.

My wolf howled and scraped at me, stomping past the hellfire stirring in my soul and demanding to be set free. It wanted this blood. Wanted it all.

And, fuck it, I let her loose. Just a bit. My muscles bulged, fur sprouted along my arms, and my hands grew sharp, deadly claws. The tips pierced his flesh and then I twisted his wrist, smiling when it snapped. He dropped to the ground, clutching his broken wrist and screaming in pain.

He got off easy—my wolf would have gladly gorged on his blood. But I still had enough control to hold her back. For now.

Two more thralls separated me and Lucia. Two more obstacles to destroy before I reached my target. All I had to do was break her concentration. Whatever dark magic she used to hold us captive, to block an angel’s gifts, had to be a difficult spell for her to maintain. Even if I didn’t kill her, a blow to the head would daze her long enough for us to get out of here.

I swung my sword, following each arching swipe with a scrape of claw through flesh. One and then two. I ensured those two went down and would never ever get up again. Part of me—a tiny part—felt guilty about hurting them, but… My life—Sam’s life—was on the line. So I gloried in it, embraced it, welcomed the pleasure that came with death. I’d forgotten the rush. It’d been so long since I let myself rejoice in the glory of battle.

I brought my blade around again, aiming for Lucia, but her priest stepped in the way. He deflected my sword with his staff, his bellowing shout following the block. “You will not harm the sacred goddess!”

I put my weight against him, leaning into the spot where our two weapons locked. My jaw elongated and fangs lengthened as my face transformed to the wolf’s snarling maw. Feral drives—needs—pushed past what little control remained. I took a step back and swung my sword with one hand, following it with a swipe, trying to cut my way through his defenses. Instead of parrying my blows, he channeled energy through his staff and summoned an unholy shield of Lucia’s version of divine light. “Back, beast! Begone!”

The priest seriously watched The Lord of the Rings too many times. It was a very Gandalf moment. Apparently, he must have forgotten what happened to the old wizard. I raised my blade overhead, roaring in fury, and channeled hellfire into the length of strengthened steel. I brought it down with every ounce of my strength, using the darker fires of Hell itself to slice past his shield. The swirling light shattered, sword slicing through it as if it were nothing but the thinnest glass. My flaming blade came down on his staff next, cutting it clean in half.

The startled priest dropped the staff and backed away, scrambling for the spiked mace hooked to his belt. He swung it wildly, trying to hold me back, but his faith was no match for my feral rage.

It was that dark cave all over again, that overwhelming need to kill, burn, destroy, raze the world to nothingness.

I grabbed his hand as he swung, closing my claw around his fingers and the shaft of the mace. Then… I squeezed. I tightened my fist, channeling my wolf’s strength and the surge of hellfire into my hold. Bones cracked beneath my palm, shattering his hand and crumbling the shaft of the mace. I released him and the mace fell to the ground while the priest stumbled back, collapsing to the ground at Lucia’s feet.

Lucia glared at him, a disgusted sneer on her face. “Fool,” she spat. “Incompetent fool.”

I snarled, taking a step forward, ready to tear her into tiny pieces. “Die, Hell bitch.”

Lucia smirked. “You first, dear.”

Still holding Sam locked in place, Lucia raised her other hand toward me. She unleashed a gout of flame so hot it burned blue, and I recognized the heat immediately.

Hellfire.

The thing about being Satan’s niece with a direct connection to Hell itself was that I wasn’t easy to burn—in general. The darkest evil? A fallen gel? They could hurt me. The scar on my palm, burned into my flesh by my own mate, was proof of that.

Normal flames couldn’t singe me. I could bathe in a volcano and come out unscathed. It took a lot of magic and darkness to generate a flame strong enough to overpower my resistance. Power Lucia had with more to spare.

I dropped into a crouch, holding my sword at an angle in front of me, and channeled my own hellfire into its length. Her blue flames struck my blazing red and the opposing forces erupted, sending a shower of sparks through the room. The space caught fire, the bed, carpet, and drapes going up in flickers of heat. Ania screamed from behind me and Lucia laughed, channeling more at me, trying to overwhelm me with pure force.

I grinned—as much as I could with my wolf’s maw. One thing I’d already learned about Lucia was that she had no finesse. She was brute force and raw power.

Power that was useless if not wielded properly. It was clear to me that Lucia hadn’t ever faced someone she couldn’t overcome by simply throwing as much at them as possible.

I slowly backed away from her, letting her think she overpowered me. The strength of her flames grew and grew, sweat breaking out along her brow. Not from heat, but exhaustion, from the exertion of channeling so much raw fire. Her hand shook, but her grin remained, eyes blazing with maniacal glee. She thought she had me and—if I was honest—she nearly did. I wouldn’t be able to hold her off much longer.

Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to.

While I backed away, I moved from the bathroom door until I crouched in front of the vanity that ran along one wall. I waited until Lucia seemed to be pushing everything at me, until I knew her concentration was more on me and less on my mate. Then I made my move.

I rolled forward, dropping my shoulder to the ground and using it to pivot to the left before popping to my feet. I shoved my hellfire-enveloped blade against Lucia’s stream of flame, pushing it away as I rolled. Lucia wasn’t prepared for my sudden movement, unable to react to my shift in position. She had power. I had knowledge. I’d been fighting—and nearly dying—for centuries.

Her stream of blue flame erupted into the wall, burning a hole through drywall and wood, blasting into the next hotel room and setting it on fire. The shimmering heat spread quickly and I knew the entire hotel would soon be ablaze. Too bad we’d miss the pretty show.

The sprinkler system spurted to life, drenching the room in a downpour of tepid water. But it wouldn’t do a thing to the hellfire permeating the space. Not unless it was holy water. The sprinkler water boiled in an instant, filling the room with steam. Within moments it was too thick to see through and Lucia was nothing more than a shadowy figure off to the side. She crouched and waved her hand in front of her face, trying to clear away the steam.

Before she could recover and rain hellfire down on me again, I lifted my sword. I brought it around in a wide arc, aiming for the bitch. My blade made contact, slicing her skin open and scorching her flesh with hellfire. My wolf rejoiced in the strike and the evil parts of my soul called out for more blood.

Those two shouldn’t have bothered getting too happy. Anyone else would have lost their arm, but for a demigoddess like Lucia, it’d barely been a scratch.

But it was all I needed.

Lucia staggered back, hand going to the wound on her arm, her focus and concentration shattered by the strike. I bolted for the bathroom while she was distracted, not wasting a moment. Sam and Ania were still there, Ania crouched in the bathtub while Sam leaned over her. Leaned over her and used his body to protect her from the flames. His skin had been scorched—some places black with the crackling heat—by the hellfire. He didn’t have my resistance to the flames, but his angelic blood still made him more durable than any mortal.

That didn’t eliminate pain though.

“Sam, let’s go!” I grabbed his shoulder, palm colliding with one of his injuries, blood seeping through my fingers.

As soon as we touched, he drew on his power—On High—and whisked us away. We vanished, blinking from sight in an instant, and the last thing I heard was Lucia screaming in unholy fury.