Anael felt a fissure of alarm run up his spine as he checked the address on his phone with the building he was standing in front of. Zagan’s club didn’t have a name on it; just a giant Z painted on the side of a window shutter. The club itself was set back from the road on a big dirt lot surrounded by empty warehouses and boarded-up shops. At five in the afternoon, Anael expected to see some signs of life, but there was nothing. Even the taxi driver told him to watch himself when Anael paid his fare.

Peering at his screen, Anael pulled up his message thread with Raziel. She said come alone…she could kill Zagan if Raziel turns up…But to go in there…. Just about to send a message, Anael heard a loud roar coming from the building. “Zagan,” he yelled. Shoving his phone in his back pocket Anael pushed on the doors. When they wouldn’t open he took one step back and blasted them with his magic.

“Zagan!” The inside was cool, dim and musty; the air filled with tang of smoke residue and spilt beer. The floorboards were bare, covered in scuff marks and gouges made from chairs and goodness knows what else. There were few tables, and the chairs looked as though they were barely holding together. Three booth seats covered in cracked vinyl lined the back wall and the battered juke box had seen better days. The only shiny spot in the place was the bar.

Anael had been in enough bars to know there had to be a basement or storage room. That must be where she’s holding Zagan. The bar, tatty as it was, looked ready for opening time. There’s no point in creeping – she’d have heard the door. Striding across the room, Anael put one hand on the polished bar and leapt over it, searching the server area for some kind of weapon. A knife block caught his eye and while Anael didn’t want to hurt anyone, if Zagan was still tied up, he’d need something to undo the ropes. He was hoping Lady Zoltus and her partner would be in a reasonable frame of mind; willing to talk rather than inflict violence.

Slipping one of the knives into the side of his boot, Anael turned the handle of the door leading presumably to the basement. Surprisingly it turned easily, the light on the other side illuminating a steep set of stairs. Guess she doesn’t want me to break my neck going down.

“Is anyone down there?” he called out hopefully. “Ma’am, if you can hear me, why don’t you come on up, so we can have a drink and talk about this.”

“Oh no, lamp boy, you’re going down.” Anael just had time to register the strange voice behind him when he was shoved, hard. Falling forward, Anael tried to grab hold of the hand rail, but he was falling too fast. His hip, knee, ribs, elbow, then his hip again all hit the concrete steps before he finally rolled to a stop at the bottom.

At his back and to his right were concrete walls. To his left, a solid steel door was left partially open. Whatever was beyond the door was too dark to see. Anael looked up the stairs watching as a huge man with long dark hair and bulging muscles sauntered slowly down. Dark eyes glinted under the single bulb and his full lips were twisted into a cruel sneer. Wolf shifter was Anael’s first thought. The second thing he noticed was the man had a marriage connection – the same color as the one he’d noticed on Lady Zoltus.

“Lady Zoltus’s consort, I presume,” Anael said backing up and trying to stand using the wall behind him. Both hips felt bruised, not broken thank goodness, but when Anael tried to stand, his knee and ankle refused to support his weight.

“Aww, did the little angel get hurt?” The behemoth had reached the bottom of the stairs and Anael winced as a large hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“Where’s Zagan?” Anael had to be strong. His mate needed him.

“Haven’t got a clue,” the behemoth said, kicking open the steel door and dragging Anael through it. “Down in hell screwing his minions, I imagine.”

“Lady Zoltus?” Anael looked around in confusion. The walls were stacked high with barrels and there were a couple of chairs. But apart from that, the room was empty. “She sent me a message; told me to meet her here. She’s got Zagan.”

“Ain’t Photoshop a wonderful thing.” The wolf shifter laughed. “Besides when you’re gone, she’ll have him or at least enough of him to rule those legions of his. We’ve just got to get your little ass out of the way first.”

“Wait,” Anael tried to struggle as the behemoth tugged and shoved him into a chair. “This is your wife we’re talking about. Aren’t you true mates?”

“True mates are nothing but fairy tales. The lady and I have an agreement – a mutually beneficial relationship involving my use of her demons to clear out my old pack. All I have to do is get rid of you.” The behemoth pulled a rope from behind his back, wrapping it so tightly around Anael’s chest he could barely breathe.

“You’re legally married. I see your connection with her. Why would you willingly allow her to be intimate with someone else?” The mere thought of that woman with her hands on his mate was enough to make Anael vomit.

“There won’t be any time for that kind of nonsense. It’s not like I care. Hell, I might have a go at him myself. I bet he’s never been fucked by a wolf shifter before.”

“No.” Anael was heartsick. Sure, he knew it was an outdated notion but the thought of anyone going against their vows was a blow against all he stood for. Ropes now covered his arms and legs and Anael knew he had no choice but to use his powers to get free. But he needed to find out where Lady Zoltus was first. “I want to talk to your wife. She doesn’t understand what’s at stake here.”

“She understands plenty.” The behemoth tightened his final knot with a flourish. “All that power under Zagan’s command and what does he do with it? Nothing. Demons are kept down in hell like prisoners when there’s all this wonderful playground to have fun in. With Zagan’s legions under her command, this whole place will be hers before sunrise and I’ll be right there with her watching as demons destroy my pack and then this pretty city. We’ve been planning this for months.”

“You have to let me talk to her. She can’t do that.”

“Why? Because a few humans might get hurt? Gods, you’re as bad as my last alpha. Getting his balls in a knot all because I had a bit of fun with a boy scout group. It’s not as though I killed anybody.”

“But Zagan’s men have,” Anael struggled to remember what Zagan told him about his legions. “They can’t leave hell. They’re damned.”

“Everyone’s damned who lives in that place if you ask me.” The huge wolf shifter pulled a large can of gasoline from behind one of the barrels and started tipping the contents around Anael’s chair. “No sun. No rain. Just that infernal red glow everywhere. Everyone fighting or fucking because they’ve got nothing better to do. It’s fine for a holiday, but give me fresh woodlands and the sun on my back any day of the week.”

“Listen to me!” The smell of gasoline was making Anael woozy and he knew he’d have no choice but to spirit himself out of the room in a matter of minutes. “Zagan’s legions are full of men with marks on their souls that prevent them from ever setting foot on earth again unless they redeem themselves. Haures’s armies are the same. They don’t stay in hell because they want to, or maybe they do, I don’t know. But even if your wife got control of them they cannot leave hell. They’d be useless to you.”

“You’re bullshitting me.” The wolf shifter straightened his spine, the gasoline can almost empty from the way it was swinging.

“I’m not bullshitting you, lying to you or anything else. I’m an angel. I can’t lie and even if I could, you’d smell it. But think about it for just one minute. Why else would Lucifer allow for two huge armies like Zagan and Haures control, when everyone else controls five legions at most? The only other large force is Botis’s sixty legions and he was gifted them by Lucifer in thanks for his years of loyal service. There might be a few more I don’t know about, but none of the large legion forces can set foot on earth.”

The wolf shifter looked at him blankly.

“Those big armies are in place specifically to protect Lucifer’s domain,” Anael yelled. The combination of the ropes, his bruises and the smell of the fuel was making him woozy. “The moment they set foot out of the Underworld, the demons’ bodies will turn to dust and their souls would be sent to the pits to fuel the eternal flames.” At least that’s what Anael thought might happen. He was winging it, but the wolf shifter didn’t know that and it’s not as though he was lying. “What your wife is planning can’t be done. Those legions can’t leave.” That much was the truth, at least.

“Well, fuck me with a flipping feather duster.” The gasoline can clanged on the concrete as the wolf shifter dropped it and pulled out his phone.

“Be careful, you’ll create a spark.”

“You are such a little do-gooder,” the wolf shifter sneered as he tapped his phone and held it up to his ear. “Zol, baby, we have a problem. Those legions you want have got a mark or something on them. They physically can’t leave the Underworld, or they turn to dust, baby. What do we do now?”

Anael didn’t get a chance to hear Lady Zoltus’s reply. The wolf shifter kicked the empty gasoline can as he listened, sending it flying across the room, hitting the concrete block on the other side. Micro seconds later there was a whoosh and searing heat blossomed around the room.

“Fuck, fuck.” The wolf shifter dropped his phone, stamping his feet wildly as flames flickered up his legs. Standing in a pool of gasoline was never a good idea. “Get it off me, get it off me. Argh!” Scrabbling at his clothes as the flames leapt higher, the huge man’s feet got tangled and he crashed to the floor.

Freeing himself from his ropes with mere thought, Anael hobbled to the wolf shifter’s side. Grabbing him under his arms, Anael strained hard, trying to translocate them both out of there. But it was no use. The man’s bulk was too much.

Yelling his frustration, Anael tried dragging the shifter across the floor towards the door. The heat in the room was intense and the man was now a dead weight, rendered unconscious by the fumes. Panting hard, Anael gave up after a few tugs. The man was just too heavy, and his own leg could barely hold him upright.

Pulling on his power, Anael poured his energy through his hands, trying to quell the blaze. The combination of the gasoline and the beer barrels that started leaking into the flames was making everything ten times harder and as the smoke levels increased, Anael worried the beams in the ceiling wouldn’t hold. He looked at the man at his feet and then at the door. He could leave, but he’d never get the wolf shifter up those stairs.

“This has got to work.” Pushing harder with his powers, Anael frantically tried to think of what was used to put out gasoline fires. Water? Foam? He had no idea, but he knew he couldn’t risk making the situation worse. His power was all he had, but as fast as he was dousing the flames in one area, another area lit up. Just once he wished Head Office had seen fit to grant him the same level of powers enjoyed by his friends.

Friends. Raziel. Holding up one hand, keeping the flames from him and the stricken man, Anael fumbled to pull out his phone with the other. One click. “Help,” Anael gasped and coughed. “Help.”

A sudden brightness appeared amidst the smoke and flames. “Thank you.” Anael crumpled to the ground. Don’t hurt him was his last conscious thought.