The blaze bubbled up inside him, warm and sweet. Unhinging his jaw, Coapt launched a stream of fire just under the back end of a car, melting the metal and igniting the gas in the tank. The sound of the explosion thrilled him, as did the screams of the people fleeing down the street. Another two blasts, then he turned his attention to a building to his left.

The lunch crowd was riveted, many of them with forks suspended halfway to their mouths as they watched the chaos on the street. He could practically read their thoughts. They were wondering if it was safer for them inside the building as opposed to outside where the pavement was scorched and bits of fiery debris rained down.

They were deciding it was safer inside. They were wrong.

Unhinging his jaw once more, he retracted his fangs, drew his clawed hands backward, then launched himself forward to give the blast the added force of his momentum. He could turn the whole block into a furnace if he wanted, but he needed to hold some back, just in case things went wrong and he found himself having to launch defensive maneuvers against a foe far stronger than this paltry gate guardian hiding behind a statue.

Metal hit his back. Pain radiated outward as he felt another blow. He turned, yanking the parking meter from his shoulder and melting it in his hands. Misshapen coins dropped onto the sidewalk. Flashing his fangs, he took a step toward the gate guardian.

“Hurry. Hurry,” she whispered, her eyes huge and terrified as she stared at him.

Something akin to arousal roared through him at her fear. He longed to kill her, to take his time and listen to the little angel scream as he took her apart. Her wings would be beautiful mounted on the wall of his home in Hel. He’d helped kill the other gate guardian, but to have an angel all to himself…the idea was so tempting that he was nearly overcome by it.

But the price he would pay would be death, and he wasn’t willing to die for a paltry gate guardian. Disobeying the Ancient never ended well. He’d seen that with his own eyes. Death itself wasn’t a big deterrent, but that death was.

The Ancient was one scary motherfucker. And Coapt had seen enough Ancients in his lifetime to know this one was different. This one deserved respect and obedience.

Leave this little angel alive…for now. That had been the command, and with it the implicit promise that whoever pleased the Ancient would receive special privileges. He just hoped those privileges came his way and included an angel of his own to torture and kill. There weren’t that many of them—not enough for every demon to have one. He only hoped he proved worthy enough to receive his very own angel to kill at his leisure.

But at the moment, he hoped the enforcer would hurry, because this little gate guardian was shredding his control with her wide eyes and defiance and fear. And there were only so many more human establishments he could destroy before he risked weakening himself to the point where self-defense might prove difficult.

There was a flash of light, and a grim-faced angel appeared before him, sword upraised. It wasn’t the sword, thankfully, but he’d been told that these lesser powerful copies could still kill him dead—if the blow rang true, that is.

Without even a glance around the scene, the angel swung, and Coapt jumped out of the way. What the fuck? Dick. He’d heard these angels were supposed to try to convince him to go back to Hel first. Either this guy hadn’t gotten the memo, or that piss-ass little gate guardian had somehow managed to let the enforcer know that he’d been killing humans. Instead of listening to a lecture he was now scrambling backward, ducking and dodging the lightning-fast blade.

Trying to buy himself some time, he sucked in a gulp of air and blew out a stream of fire. The angel threw his arms in front of his face, blocking as much of the fire as he could. When he lowered them, he was singed, but barely harmed.

Good. He’d get in trouble if this angel was too injured to make it to his destination. The delay gave the demon time to pull a small talisman from the leather pouch around his neck. It gave him the shivers just to touch the thing—a tattered decayed feather that still held enough personal energy to link him to its owner.

Now.

He hated this part. It made him feel as if he was being stretched like a piece of taffy, then shaken violently. This time was worse because he wasn’t just being yanked halfway down the coast, he was leaving a stream of energy behind like a trail of breadcrumbs. It fucking hurt, but whatever the Ancient commanded, he did.

It was that or die horribly.

The end of this mode of transportation was always a lesson in humility. Coapt arrived in a dim, grungy alleyway. The walls twisted and turned, the ground heaving underneath him. He staggered sideways and retched, vomiting as he struggled to not face-plant into his own puke. The sound of snickering and laughter echoed in his ears and he snarled, wanting nothing more than to teach those hidden demons a lesson. But that would come later. Right now he had to regain his balance, get his guts back where they needed to be, and be prepared for what was about to appear before him.

He didn’t have to wait long. This angel wasn’t an idiot, although maybe he should have been more wary of the blazing “follow me” trail left for him.

The angel appeared like a golden-haired warrior, sword upraised, only to hesitate. No, he wasn’t all that stupid after all. He’d felt them. The demons may have physically hidden, but the traces of their personal energy, their spirit-selves, were evident all around them. The angel lowered his sword and shot the demon a narrowed glare.

“Running to hide behind your friends? They won’t be able to protect you, worm. I’ll kill them with just as much ease as I’ll kill you.”

“Thought you weren’t supposed to kill us anymore,” Coapt taunted.

“I’m not, but I’ll hardly suffer for my actions. You’ve killed humans. As for the others…” he pivoted in a circle, “their deaths will be ruled as justifiable self-defense. I’m not fond of this policy anyway. In my mind the only good demon is a dead demon.”

“Now, isn’t that just a coincidence, because I feel the same way about angels.” The demon put his fingers to his lips and whistled.

The other demons materialized from their hiding spots, some of them shifting into larger, more intimidating forms as they blocked the only exit to the alley. The angel sneered, clearly confident that even a dozen demons would pose no threat to him.

That sneer quickly faded as a very different energy signature came into range—powerful and distinctive, cold and clean, sharp. The angel caught his breath, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Coapt grinned, knowing who was coming, feeling the rush of adrenaline through his veins as he imagined what was about to happen.

The demons at the end of the alleyway parted, and an Ancient stepped through the gap. He was tall with golden skin, white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes. His physical form was breathtakingly beautiful, aside from the scar diagonally bisecting his torso. His leathery wings had decaying black feathers, a few of them retaining their original gloss. The demon felt as if a weight had been suddenly put upon him, and knew the others felt the same. He saw the angel bow under the pressure, as if an invisible hand was holding him in place.

The angel stepped backward. “Is that…it can’t be. You’re not. It’s not…”

“It is,” Coapt crowed, feeling the fire lick through his chest with excitement. “You’re thinking he’s a faker trying to get street cred for scaring off a mighty Grigori enforcer, aren’t you? You’re wondering if you should flee and risk the humiliation of being a coward, or stay and possibly meet your death. Doesn’t matter what you do, pretty boy. You’re dead. And your wings are gonna be nailed to someone’s wall in Hel.”

The angel winced at the last statement, but otherwise ignored the demon, his attention completely on the Ancient who was slowly approaching. The demon cackled, knowing the angel was feeling the grip tightening around him, that this angel knew the end was near, that there was no escape, no way he could flee the Ancient before him.

The Ancient smiled. “It’s been a long time, Humiel. Still working for my brother, I see.”

The angel’s face registered shock and disbelief, then fear. “Samael…we thought you were dead. No one has heard from you in two-and-a-half-million years.”

Coapt shifted to the side as the others flanked the angel, surrounding him and edging in closer. The demon’s lungs burned with fire, his heart beat fast with excitement. This was better than lust, better than killing a bunch of humans, better than watching that other gate guardian be torn to shreds. He was going to see Samael, the Ancient he’d vowed fealty to, destroy an angel—not just any angel, but a Grigori enforcer.

Samael stepped closer and sneered. “Heard from me? You all banished me as well as the other Angels of Chaos. You all sent us to Hel without hope of ever returning to Aaru again. Did you really expect me to write? Send the occasional holiday card? I’ve been too busy nursing a grudge and waiting for the right moment. Happily, the right moment is now.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with the banishment,” the angel protested. “Many of us weren’t in agreement with that. It was Michael. How were we supposed to oppose him? How were we supposed to go against him?”

“Maybe get a fucking backbone?” Samael stepped closer, his black wings brushing the ground as he walked. The others edged in, the air vibrating with anticipation. “Maybe stand up for half of the angelic host? No one said a word. Not one of you stuck your neck out for us.”

“I wanted to. I really wanted to, but—”

Samael was suddenly before him, his hand lightning fast as it rose to grip the angel’s throat. “Kneel and acknowledge me as your lord and master.”

The angel swallowed hard. “No,” he croaked out.

Samael shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. The end result would have been the same, although a bit of groveling might have extended your life by a few seconds.” His grip tightened and the angel screamed as he slowly dissolved into a pile of sand.

Staring down at what once was an angel, Samael dusted off his hands, then looked up at the silent demons that surrounded him, the demons that stared at him with worshipful eyes. “Well, don’t just stand there. Go fetch me another.”