I squint at the sky lightening through the cracks in the curtains. “What time is it?”
“Early. Five.”
Five? I slept through the night, even if I hardly feel rested at all. That seems to be happening more often than it’s not. No matter how many hours I sleep, I still wake exhausted. I shake my head slowly. “Wait a minute. It’s tomorrow. That means Azazel—”
The lights go out.
“Fuck!” Grace scrambles for the lamp on the nightstand between our beds. It clicks, but the light doesn’t come on. “What the hell?”
“Little hunter.” Azazel’s voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I twist, trying to see, but even a vampire needs a little light to see. A dhampir needs more yet, and there is none to be had in this room.
“Little seraph.” His breath tickles the shell of my ear. “Did you think to trap me?”
Fear surges through me. Azazel has always been scary, but it’s nothing compared to what he is now. I try to swallow past the need to scream. “No. No one’s trying to trap you.”
“And yet you are here withher.”
“Not for that!” I can’t guarantee Grace isn’t here forthat. She’s overly interested in Azazel and has good reason to be. She wants answers about her mother. Would she try to kill him, even if it meant I failed?
I don’t know.
“Do you know what I do to people who try to cross me?”
I can’t move, can’t think. Panic bleats through me, as worthless as the ever-present exhaustion weighing me down. It builds and builds, a rising tide that washes away all rational thought. “Stop!”
Flames lick at the air around me, Malachi’s power manifesting out of my pure desperation. The flames are nowhere near as strong as I’ve summoned in the past, but they’re enough to break the unrelenting dark. I get a glimpse of a monster crouching behind Grace, massive shoulders and arms, horns like a bull coming from either side of its head.
No, no it.
Him.
Azazel.
My flames go out, but this time the darkness only last a moment. The light at the bedside table flickers on, weakly doing battle with the shadows seeming to gather in every corner of the room. And there Azazel is, once again wearing his human skin, standing at the space between the ends of our beds, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. His eyes flare red, not quite managing to keep things under wraps. “Explain yourselves. Quickly.”
There’s no explicit threat tacked onto the end of that sentence, but there doesn’t need to be. It hangs in the air, thicker than smoke.
I exchange a look with Grace. She seems shaken but determined in a way that does nothing to reassure me. If she attacked Azazel, neither of us will survive the next few minutes. “Don’t do anything foolish,” I snap.
Her gaze flicks my way and she tenses. “You took my mother.”
“I don’t take people. I make deals.” He sounds bored. His tone is a lie. From the careful way he holds himself, he’s half a breath from attacking us. His turns his attention to me. “I’ll have your answer now.”
All this mess and I feel like I’m just digging in further. I can’t say yes. I’m not sure what he’ll do if I say no. “I—”
“I’d like to propose a new bargain,” Grace cuts in.
Azazel’s interest sharpens on her. “How forward of you.”
“I’m just that kind of girl.” Her smile is a challenge. “You help Mina get her men back. I’ll pay the price.”
He sighs. “What do you think you can offer that would replace a half-seraph? You’re hardly a catch, darling.”
“Don’t call me darling.” She straightens. “I’m the last of the Cel Tradat family. I might only be human, but that means something, even to a monster like you. My family has a long history with the people of your realm. Don’t try to pretend securing me in a bargain isn’t a coup.”
“Calling me names is not the way to get what you want.” He stalks forward, darkness flowing around him. It’s enough for me to realize how tightly leashed he kept himself up to this point. He’s not even trying now, though he’s managed to get control of his form. Either that or there’s not enough light for his shadow to betray him.
“Mina won’t accept your deal. I will. That already makes me the better bet.”