“L

et’s get this dog and pony show started?” Amaya clapped and rubbed her hands together. Drawn to Bane’s side, because that’s where she wanted to be, she took her position beside him. He’d cleaned up nicely. Customary leather pants, black tee, leather duster, as were most of the UnHallowed dressed. He’d strapped knives to his chest, and short swords to his back, the hilts of two showed behind each shoulder. He looked the same as he did when she first laid eyes on him in that abandoned row house. Tall, handsome, and arrogant.

He pointed at Ioath, Rimmon, then Riél and Gadreel. “You know where to go. Get moving.” Lastly, he turned to Zed and Gideon. “You two. Get going.” Though crimson swallowed their gazes, both strode into the shadows.

That left Daghony and Bane.

Malphas stood in the center of the room looking fresh with perfect hair and that damn irritating smirk and those dead cognac eyes that made her skin crawl. She had the chilling realization there was nothing deeper beneath the veneer Malphas presented to the world. Peel away the surface, she suspected she’d find a yawning, sucking hole.

She shook off the chill and followed Bane to the large shadow waiting in the corner of the room, even though each footstep began to get heavier and her blood seemed to simmer in her veins. A bead of sweat trickled down her back, quickly joined by another. Her mouth dried and her vision swam just before her knees locked, preventing her from tipping over.

She couldn’t go into the shadows. The last time had made her violently ill, and that was before she’d absorbed Braile’s grace and sprouted wings. If she entered the void again…she may not come out.

“Amaya?”

Bane’s voice snapped her out of her panic and she focused on him instead of the shadows now reaching for both of them. “I can’t,” she whispered.

For the first time, he glanced at her wings and understanding dawned. Light flared behind her. She spun and watched Malphas gather energy from the air into a focal point and then expand that energy into a dimensional pocket.

When the blinding light died, leaving behind the spherical glowing orb, the Demoni Lord held out his hand. “Come, Amaya. I will get you there safely.”

Oh hell. It’s not like she had a choice. She was not staying behind. Bane’s hand tightened around hers, then released. “Hey.” She tugged on his shirt to get his attention. His red gaze caressed her even as his lips peeled back in a snarl. “You know I can kick his ass, right?”

Daghony waited at the edge of the shadows. “She’ll be safe for this short time, and we have no choice. Either she stays or she goes with Malphas.”

Bane growled low in his throat.

“Nothing has changed. He still needs us as much as we need him. I’ll be fine.” She stepped away, to have Bane drag her back to him, his hands on her hips, keeping her in front of him. His gaze locked on Malphas, who waited patiently for her with one arrogant eyebrow raised. This wasn’t about her safety. This was a fucking pissing contest and she was the prize. Not cool!

She punched Bane in the gut, hard. Now she had his attention and had a finger in his face to get her point across. “You and I are on the same page. So cut it out. We got shit to do and don’t have time for this testosterone bull.”

Though the corners of his lips curled into a five-alarm, wicked grin, the red didn’t leave his eyes. “Same page, huh?”

She nodded. “Same paragraph.”

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Same damn sentence.”

“Right down to the last word and final period.” Why did that just sound like a commitment? And why wasn’t she panicked at saying it?

Bane sighed. He threw a disgusted glance at Malphas, then nudged her toward the Demoni Lord. Amaya ignored his outstretched hand and entered the spinning orb. He stood next to her as she watched Bane. Neither he nor Daghony moved from their positions. She smiled at him until the light from the dimensional pocket blurred his image and he faded from view.

“How long is the travel time?” she asked.

“Thirty seconds, give or take. Light travels faster than the dark.”

She didn’t know enough to argue against his point, but had the sense he wasn’t quite right. Darkness didn’t travel as light did because darkness was everywhere, in everything. Darkness existed. “So we’ll get there before—”

“Bane. We’ll beat him by a few seconds.”

Adrenalin spiked her blood. The weight and placement of her weapons registered. Also, Malphas’s position and his vulnerable points—if he had any.

She slipped her hand into her pocket, wrapped her fingers around a throwing star, and relaxed. Shoulders slumped, head slightly back and tilted at an angle, completely non-threatening. Staring straight ahead, a kaleidoscope of colors zigzagged in front of her eyes. It reminded her of a Ferris wheel spinning one thousand RPMs. Dizzying. She stood inside of a rainbow with a Demoni Lord. So much for enjoying the moment.

“How do you control this thing?”

He snorted and angled his head her way with a bored glance. “Mind over matter. There are gateways to other dimensions. This pocket isn’t one of them, though it allows us to fold space and instantly get us from point A to point Z in seconds.”

She wanted to ask if angels used pocket dimensions and realized that would be a mistake. Shit, her question was a mistake. What if angels did control pocket dimensions and she had just admitted no knowledge of that fact?

Damn it! I have to do better. What would Braile do?

He wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. The ride stopped and she exited onto a gentle slope of a hillside. Off in the distance stood a sprawling ranch with empty pens and multiple barn-like structures.

Amaya stuck her other hand into her pocket, slipped two more throwing stars between her fingers, and pivoted. “Where’s Bane?”

Malphas sized her up. She had no delusions. He probably knew she had weapons in her hands, not that his knowledge would deter her one fucking bit. If Bane had so much as a blister, Malphas would be carved.

“You truly care about that low-level UnHallowed?” Eyebrows lowered and knit together, as if he couldn’t possibly fathom her feelings from Bane. And she wouldn’t be explaining her feelings to a Demoni Lord.

She removed her hand from her pocket, no longer hiding the throwing stars. “Last time. Where. Is. He?”

He sighed, shook his head, and shrugged. “He’s fine. The coordinates I gave him are for an underground chamber.”

“Where’s the entrance?”

“Closer to the hillside on the other side of those trees.” He tipped his chin to the copse of trees behind her.

Amaya opened her wings.

“Before you take to the sky,” Malphas shouted, “answer a question.”

She didn’t know why she halted. For whatever reason, she gave him her attention.

“How old are you?”

Tread carefully. If ever there was a loaded question. “You never ask a lady her age.”

He executed a clipped bow. “Apologies. Though the reason I ask is valid, but let me clarify. How long ago did you die and ascend to Heaven? Or if you prefer, how long since you became a warrior class angel? An answer to any of those questions would be appreciated.”

She bet they would. “Why the sudden interest? I’m just a run-of-the-mill angel.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, Amaya.” Her name was a husky growl. “There is nothing run-of-the-mill about you. Not from your blood tipped wings, tight body, or—”

Amaya took flight, not too high, she skimmed the ground, as low as she dared. Each action carried a risk. Too high or too low, she was a target.

The trees were thick with dense foliage. She dipped and darted between them until she reached a row she couldn’t get around, and wasn’t sure her newfound flying skills wouldn’t get her killed. Tucking her wings, she skidded to a landing inside the last row—and bumped into Malphas.

“Jesus H! Where the hell did you come from?” She leaped away from him, but he captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger, while his hand grabbed her wrist, preventing her from using her stars. Being this close to him, within his personal bubble, made her skin crawl, literally. It had to be an angel—demoni thing, her borrowed grace reacting to his evil nature.

“That isn’t the question that needs answering, Amaya. Tell me why an angel doesn’t know how to shield her wings. Tell me why an angel has human weapons and not empyreal steel. Tell me why you wear clothes and not empyreal armor.”

“Release me or lose that fucking hand.” She could be free if she so chose, yet she didn’t. Staying in his embrace, showing she wasn’t afraid, was more important than her breaking free.

In a dulcet tone that didn’t hide his precise words, Malphas leaned closer until his dead cognac eyes filled her vision. “Tell me what are you, Amaya, and I will release you.”