That smile, that strained fucking smile she’d flashed the last time I saw her.
She’d known. Known we wouldn’t make it in time. And she’d planned for it. That last kiss had been her goodbye. Because my witchling would never want our people to march unprepared. Wouldn’t be able to live with herself if they were slaughtered attempting to save her.
And so I paced. And planned. Ag was my second, would take up the mantle if I was gone. Because I would never live without my bondmate. Refused to. If Danica were taken from me, I would kill Lucifer, and then I would curl up and die.
Hopefully, I would see her in the next life. If the fates decided I was not to go to the place where Danica was destined, I would slaughter those fates as well, until I found my little witch once more.
A few feet away, Mere stood next to Vas, her lips bloodless as they waited for our signal.
“If I don’t live through this, it was nice knowing you,” she told him.
He smiled. “Oh, you’ll live through this, baby. You promised me a kiss and I intend to collect.”
She gaped at him. “I told you to kiss my ass. Not the same thing.”
“And that little order has been keeping me going through all of this. You wouldn’t want to take that hope away from a man about to march to his death, would you?”
In spite of the situation, my lips twitched. I memorized the moment to show my little witch later, when I finally had her back in my arms. Where she belonged.
Nine books. We just had to get nine books close enough to Lucifer that we could start the spell. Danica had sworn she could take care of the rest.
But first we had to get out of this fucking pocket realm. Frustration threatened to tug me under, threatened to send me into a dark abyss.
This was taking too long.
* * *
DANICA
“Get out of the pocket realm, Samael!”
“It’s okay, Danica.”
“No, it’s not.”
Oh god. Oh god. Lucifer turned from the table and smiled coldly at me. He’d known about the pocket realm this whole time. And we’d served up everyone who could ever be a threat to him in one place where he could take them out with a single blow.
“Show me. Please,”I begged the underworld.
The underworld complied, and I was suddenly looking down at Lucifer’s people, where a sentry was slowly slipping through the forest and toward the palace, a blue glass candlestick holder in his hand.
Thatwas the artifact? The light fae could be incredibly weird.
I recognized the sentry by his blonde curls. I’d seen him before. This was the guard who’d argued with Garadiel in the garden. Now, though, he was shaking like a leaf, so consumed by his task that he didn’t notice every demon around him, watching him like a hawk as he made his way deep into Lucifer’s front lines.
Time stretched. The sentry dropped the artifact to the ground, opening his mouth to say the words to free our people.
A sword slashed out of nowhere, and his head rolled to the ground, his body slumping next to it.
Oh my God.
Blood rushed in my ears as the world seemed to recede. Without him to speak the incantation, our army was trapped. And the moment that artifact was destroyed, everyone in the pocket realm was dead.
My breath stilled in my chest, and I sucked in air as the underworld prodded at me, focusing on one man.
Pischiel. He was in the front line, next to our enemies. He was supposed to go to Samael. Had he betrayed us?
He looked sick to his stomach, his face ashen. Rage poured into me, and I realized I could feel him faintly at the end of that thread.
