“A

nything?” Bane demanded from Gadreel the second the former Angel of Weapons exited the shadows in the corner of the dining room. From the neck down, every inch of him was covered in a double layer of leather with a fine empyreal mesh in between, protecting his skin from contacting man-made weapons. Such was the punishment given to the former Angel of Weapons. Gadreel gave a single shake of his head. He was the second one to report in after Tahariél.

“Do you have any new leads?” Gadreel asked and studied the map tacked to the wall behind Bane.

Red stick pins denoted Malphas’s various properties and businesses in no less than thirty countries. The maps splayed across the dining table in front of Bane were of specific cities where the Demoni Lord had multiple holdings: New York, San Francisco, Houston, Vancouver, Hong Kong, and Tokyo.

All of the info Bane had gleaned from the internet. It wasn’t enough. The crafty bastard had to have more holdings, dummy corporations, companies where he was the silent partner, and aliases. It was how Rimmon had amassed his fortune in the human world. There was even the possibility of properties owned by Malphas’s minions—Spaun, most likely, but there were other demonkin above ground to do the bidding of the Demoni Lord.

Then there was the human contingent to factor. Humans, who for the right amount of money would do anything requested.

Two days. Two goddamned days of nothing.

Bane studied the profile he’d pulled up on a tablet Rimmon had provided. The picture was of Malphas behind a podium, accepting a gilded award. The headline read “Philanthropist Donates Fifty Million to Global Health.”

Bane didn’t see the playboy billionaire the world ogled. He saw the escapee from Hell. He saw pestilence, vermin, disease, and cruelty. He saw all the things Malphas was doing to Amaya in the two goddamn days she was his care.

The wood beneath his fingers crumbled as the leash on his anger frayed. Then snapped. He flipped the dining table, sending it careening into the opposite wall.

Daghony clamped a hand onto Bane’s shoulder only to be knocked away. Bane spun and punched the wall behind him. It was either that or pummeling Daghony, who’d just climbed out of bed yesterday. Pretty, pink, unblemished skin covered his body. It was too soon to ruin it with an unwarranted beat down.

“Malphas has no reason to kill her,” Daghony said.

“He also has no reason to keep her alive,” Tahariél—ever the voice of wisdom—muttered as he leaned against the archway to the dining room, his favorite stance. He, Daghony, and Gadreel were the only other ones present. Chay and Kush recovered from their burns at Maximum Effort Gym under the care of Scarla and Sophie. Zed and Rimmon recovered downstairs in their basement suites. Ioath had yet to report in.

Clusterfuck. From the inception to the execution, the entire plan to retrieve the Cruor was an acid wash to the eyeballs. Hindsight was, is, will always be, a bitch.

I should’ve taken her with us instead of her showing up on her own. That was the dagger stabbing his conscience.

Truth be told, he didn’t expect her resourcefulness. No way could she possibly get from Detroit to Vegas in six hours before daylight arrived, not by car, and she wasn’t strong enough to fly that distance in the allotted time. Getting on an airplane was out of the question with her wings visible. He left the farmhouse confident Amaya was grounded and safe.

He’d never underestimate her again.

Little good the realization did him now. Seeing her fall through the ceiling on top of a Spaun and the Cruor, he’d never been prouder. Then Malphas appeared and pride flipped to horror. Getting Amaya back was the only thing that mattered. Not the Cruor. Damn the world and everyone in it.

Malphas. A blinding rage threatened to swallow him. He caught a glimpse of Gideon stepping into the room, rushing to the Demoni Lord’s side in the last seconds before the UnHallowed was pitched into the sun. Bane spun to punch the wall behind him again, harder. From the base to the ceiling, the drywall split and crown molding pelted his shoulders.

Last Bane heard, Gideon was in Hawaii enjoying his honeymoon with Dina, not Malphas’s sidekick. How the fuck did that happen? When did it happen? The list of questions he could compile about Gideon’s betrayal wouldn’t be answered anytime soon, so he let it drop. Suffice to say the traitor was dead the next time Bane laid eyes on him.

Riél shoved himself away from the pillared archway and righted the dining table on its four legs, while Gadreel snatched up the scattered maps. Riél smoothed the map of Manhattan and pointed to all the red dots. “I searched all of his properties in the borough and the one abandoned textile factory in Albany. They’re all clear. Doesn’t mean he’s not moving her around and couldn’t return, but if he does, I will know it.”

Meaning, he left an imprint of himself at the scene. Only the strongest of them could leave what equated to a shadow of themselves behind. Not their entire shadow, but just a sliver. Just enough of oneself to send up a flare. The process weakened the UnHallowed and there was a chance Riél would never retrieve the part he’d left as a sentinel.

“I’ve done the same.” Gadreel volunteered from his safe position on the opposite side of the room. Bane tipped his head to both in gratitude.

Gadreel eased closer, as was his way, and pointed to a map of San Francisco. “I’ve checked the two properties here, and his mansions on Nob Hill and Beverly Hills.”

Shadows shifted next to Riél. Ioath stepped free, and halted. As always, the scent of brimstone clung to him. His gaze shifted between all three UnHallowed, then darted to the hole in the wall created by the dining table and Bane’s fist. “What have I missed?”

“Did you find anything?” was Bane’s answer to Ioath’s question.

Ioath shook his head. “No trace of him in London or his country estate.”

“I am strong enough to lend my aid. Where would you like me to start?” Daghony leaned against the table.

“Same here. What else can I help with?” Riél surprised everyone in the room. The self-absorbed sex-aholic didn’t have a philanthropic cell in his body. “What? I care, and a road trip won’t kill me. I can get what I need anywhere in the world.”

What he needed was pussy, and plenty of it. That was Tahariél’s—formerly the Archangel of Purity—punishment.

Riél folded his arms across his chest and rocked back and forth. “Plus, I think we’re approaching this the wrong way. Just because we’ve failed to locate Malphas, doesn’t mean we’ll fail to locate Gideon.”

Gadreel nodded. “I’ve come to think the same.”

“Since leaving us six months ago,” Riél continued, “Gideon has been on the grid. He’s lived his life as a human, with a human.”

“Dina is not human,” Daghony corrected.

“She is now,” Bane said. They all knew of the sacrifice Dina—warrior in the Celestial Army—made when she gave Gideon her grace. By saving him, she doomed herself to live as a human when they risked everything to seal the Cruor.

“What I’m getting at is, he has a cell phone. It’s traceable.”

Bane contained his excitement. “How is that done?”

Everyone shrugged. The UnHallowed had no use for phones.

“I don’t know.” Riél smirked. “But I know a girl who does.”

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Get on it, right—”

The air around them shifted and a breeze circled the room, scattering papers, ruffling Dag’s and Riél’s feathers, even though all the windows were sealed tight because the sun hadn’t set. Bane freed the weapons strapped to his sides. The others followed suit and armed themselves. Together they faced the light coalescing in the arched doorway between the dining room and living room.

The light changed in size and intensity. What started as a faint pink prick of light now had the mass of a dimensional pocket and threw off enough energy as a small sun, though without the power to incinerate.

Bane shielded his eyes yet squinted through his fingers, and focused on the dimensional pocket forming. This was no surprise attack. The process didn’t take this long. The traveler wanted to make an entrance, and the UnHallowed had a greeting waiting for them. It had to be Malphas and his legion of Spaun using a dimensional pocket to breach the house without an invitation. Bane didn’t know that was possible, but so be it.

The battle would begin and end here. This is where Malphas would die after he gave up Amaya’s location.

Daghony and Ioath lined up on one side of Bane, Riél on the other. Gadreel hung back. He couldn’t engage and risk contact with any weapon. Bane understood yet regretted not having the former Archangel of Weapons joining the fight. Footsteps thudded behind him; Bane didn’t have to turn around to know Rimmon and Zed had joined the soirée.

And what a little party this would be was his last thought as the light died in a brilliant flash, leaving Amaya.

Not thinking, he stepped forward. Daghony threw his arm out and barred Bane’s way, and an arm—Zed or Rimmon’s, he couldn’t tell which—wrapped around his neck and hauled him back. His struggle to break free lasted between one blink and the next. Only that space of time was necessary for his vision to expand and see both the female he had to rescue, and the two enemies he had to kill.