Maybe they changed the fucking locks.
His teeth snapped together as Tomas’s voice rang through his mind. The Fallen was wrong. He could enter heaven, he could slide into hell, and he could walk the earth. He punished the damned, no matter where they were.
He saw the white columns up ahead. Waiting for him. His home.
Perfect. Peaceful.
Open, as it had always been.
Open . . .
“Not this time, Rogziel.” Delia’s cool voice stopped him.
His feet touched down on the marble floor, and she immediately appeared before him. Her wings stretched up high behind her, the way an angel’s wings always did before an attack.
The way his wings were stretching now.
“This isn’t the place for you,” she said in her flat, slightly cool voice.
He stared at her. “I don’t answer to you, child.” And that’s all she was to him. A child. Barely a few centuries old. He didn’t care what Delia wanted. What she said. He was the one with the power.
As far as he knew, Delia had never even ventured into hell. Like many of the others, perhaps she was afraid of what she’d find waiting for her.
“No, you don’t answer to me.” Doors were behind her. Massive white doors that led to paradise. “Just think of me as the messenger.” No expression crossed her face. “This place isn’t for you,” she told him again.
He wanted to rip her apart. Make her scream. Beg.
Burn.
She took a step back. Ah, so she did feel his power.
But she shook her head. “Good-bye, Rogziel.”
He grabbed her arm. “No.” Because a lick of fear had cut into his heart. “I’m an
angel
. This is where I belong.”
Delia stared back at him. “You will soon be where you belong.”
Those fucking Fallen. He hadn’t done his job. Hadn’t punished them. So now he was being punished. “I’ll take them out! I’ll clear the earth of the abominations . . .”
He spun away from her. He knew what to do. He still had his wings. He wasn’t cast out. He was—
“Not all abominations are on earth,” Delia said softly.
He stilled as her words sank in. The rage bubbled then and raked beneath his skin like claws. “You dare to judge
me?”
“No.” Her voice was still quiet. “That’s not my job.”
Sammael.
It was the bastard’s fault. He’d shifted the balance. Brought too much evil to the world.
Punish . . .
“The judgment is at hand,” Delia told him. “Be ready.”
Then her wings rustled, and she flew away from paradise.
The instant she vanished, Rogziel charged those heavy white doors, but they wouldn’t open for him. They wouldn’t
open.
He clawed. He punched. His hands broke, and he bled.
But the doors wouldn’t budge.
“No!”
His scream.
I bet they changed the fucking locks.
“Let me in!” he yelled.
No one answered his cry.
The doors stayed shut.
He’d served in heaven. Punished in hell and on earth.
Served . . .
“No!”
His blood stained the doors.
But they
wouldn’t open.
Sam knew where to find Mateo. He always did. Find the nearest crossroads, light a match, and whisper a quick incantation, then all he had to do was wait for Mateo to appear.
Mateo wasn’t
exactly
a witch, no matter how hard he might try to claim otherwise. There was more than just witch blood flowing through his veins.
Mateo was a caller, too—one from a very long and dark line. Summon him at the crossroads, and he had to appear. Bind him, and he had to do your bidding.
“Sam?” Seline’s hand was in his. “What are we doing here?”
“Calling a friend,” he told her. “Now stand back.” Things were about to get even uglier than they had been, but he wouldn’t block her out. She’d be there for the end game and the freedom she wanted so badly.
She stepped back. Their fingers slid apart.
Tomas paced nervously near the edge of the road. “No, man, you are
not
doing a crossroads call. Don’t you know that you can’t trust whatever freak comes when you do this crap? These are monsters! They slipped out of hell, they—”
Sam used a blade to slice over his wrist. Blood dropped right onto the middle of the crossroads. He whispered the summoning chant once more, then, said simply, “Mateo.”
The sky above them darkened. A crack of lightning slammed into the ground, and with a scream, Mateo appeared.
Mateo’s shoulders hunched. His breath wheezed out. Coming to a crossroads was never easy for a caller. A caller had to slip past hell every time the crossroads beckoned. “Fuckin’ asshole . . .” Mateo muttered, raising his head to glare at Sam.
“No! Not him!” Tomas snarled as he recognized Mateo. “He’s working with Rogziel! I
told
you—aw, man, now we’re dead!”
Sam didn’t look at Tomas. “Guess Rogziel figured out how to summon you, huh?” His mixed blood was Mateo’s closest secret. His mother, Aviana, had been a crossroads spirit. Summon her and she’d grant your wish. Once she granted your wish, she’d make you wish again—only this time, you’d be wishing for death.
Crossroad spirits had no remorse. No guilt. With every life they took, their strength increased.
Once upon a long time ago, a male witch had come to Aviana. He’d wanted a child. He’d gotten one.
One wish granted . . .
Mateo lifted his head. His cheeks were hollowed. His eyes flat and cold. “Rogziel didn’t summon me, not at first. He called
her. ”
Sam had no doubt as to the
her
in question. There was no more powerful crossroad spirit than Mateo’s mother.
“Guess I know what he wished for,” Sam said.
“I don’t!” Seline said, and she rushed forward. “What did he want?”
“A way to trap Fallen.”
Tomas whistled. “
You’re
a crossroads spirit? Oh, that is
bad.
”
“He got his wish,” Sam said, studying Mateo in the sunlight. Mateo had always hated what he was.
Abomination.
Yes, that’s what Rogziel would call him—and it was the way Sam knew Mateo saw himself.
Sam’s teeth snapped together. Mateo wasn’t evil. Not totally, anyway.
“Rogziel did,” Mateo agreed. “He got what he wanted. Aviana brought me to him. Made me show him the spells.” Rage bubbled in his voice. “When Rogziel got his wish, he killed her. Punishment he said, long overdue.” A rough laugh. “So fucking true. The bitch deserved to burn.”
“So does he.” Sam held Mateo’s glittering stare. “And I need you to help make sure that happens.”
But Mateo laughed again. “I saw what’s coming, remember? Rogziel wasn’t the one choking on his own blood.”
Seline gasped at that. Then she shoved right into the middle of the crossroads. Wrong move. Didn’t she realize? The middle of the crossroads was always a bad spot to be standing in. “Sam’s
not
dying! Do you understand? He’s not—”
A growl shook the air. Sam grabbed Seline and yanked her behind him—and away from that crossroads hot spot. “I told you to stay back.”
The ground buckled beneath them. The crossroads were gateways. Not a link to heaven, but a doorway to hell.
And Seline’s punisher blood was like a magic key to open that door.
Cracks split the dirt.
“Seal it!” Sam ordered Mateo as he kept a tight hold on Seline.
With a wave of his hand, Mateo stilled the earth. Then, slowly, he walked toward Sam and Seline. “She can’t control it.” A fleeting expression of regret swept over his face. “When the time comes, she won’t have the power to help you.”
“I won’t need help.”
Mateo shook his head. “You’re not immortal, no matter what you might think.” Mateo’s gaze darted to Tomas. “So many Fallen . . . do you honestly think you’re at the top of the food chain?”
Sam didn’t respond. Neither did Tomas.
But they didn’t have to speak, because Mateo said, “No, to
them,
” he jerked his hand back at the cracked ground, “you’re just tasty prey. The hounds rip you open and drag your soul right off this earth.”
And into hell.
“Then I’ll make sure when they drag me . . .” Sam didn’t feel even a flicker of fear. Not for himself. “That I’ve got one unbreakable hold on Rogziel.” The bastard would go with him to hell. He pointed at Mateo. “I want my wish.”
Mateo blinked. “Wh-what?”
“I summoned you, now I want a wish granted.” He knew how this deal worked. Knew that even if Mateo wanted to refuse, the guy wouldn’t be able to, not at a crossroads. “I want to bind an angel. I need a spell to keep him still.”
“You can’t—” Mateo began with a shake of his head
“This is a bad plan,” Seline said at the same instant. “
Very
bad.”
Sam turned his head to meet her gaze. “Trust me.”
“I do.” Instant. Not what he’d expected. His gaze narrowed on her, and he realized she was staring at him with eyes that saw too much. Too deep. “I trust you, but I’m not about to let you die.” She glanced back at Mateo. “If I could control the hounds, really control them, we could take Rogziel out, right?”
“You’d have to grow wings and fly first,
querida,
” Mateo told her, voice rough. “The only ones with true control . . . those are the punishment angels.”
“But my mother was—”
He held up his hand, stopping her. “You’re a half-breed, just like me. Sometimes we get the power, hot enough to burn through the skin, but sometimes, we barely get enough to stir the wind.” His stare bored into her. “When the chips are down, a hellhound won’t hesitate. And if you’re not in total control, the beast can even turn on you. Then you’d be the one it takes to hell.”
An image of those razor-sharp teeth flashed before Sam’s eyes.
“This is all fascinating, but Sierra could be freaking
dying,
” Tomas spat. “Are we going to stay here, pissing the day away, or are we going to help her?”
Sam glanced at him then back at Seline. “We have to help her,” she said, and the plea in her voice went right past his guard. “She’s a pawn, and Rogziel stopped caring about what happens to pawns long ago.”
Staring at her, Sam knew he could refuse her nothing. So he inclined his head, then focused back on Mateo. “I want the binding spell you gave to Rogziel.”
“
Hombre,
I told you—”
“My wish,” Sam said with a shrug. “And that’s the deal, right? Whatever I want . . .”
Mateo’s gaze drifted between Seline and Sam. “You’d burn for her?”
Sam knew his grin held a cruel edge. “I’d burn anyone who tried to hurt her.” A much more effective approach. “Rogziel
won’t
touch her.” He’d make sure of it.
A muscle flexed in Mateo’s jaw as he held his hand out. Sam took the offered hand, and a clap of thunder echoed overhead.
“I’ll give you the spell,” Mateo promised. “Damn you, I’ll get it—but I need some time to get all the elements and ingredients together. It’s not simple, and just so you know, it’s one fucking dark spell.”
To bind an angel, he would expect nothing less. “Get it fast, because we’re going in.”
Mateo’s eyes widened. “No, just wait—”
But it was Tomas who answered. “We wait, and Sierra dies.” His hands were fisted at his sides.
“I’ve got enough innocent blood on me.” Sam let his smile stretch in anticipation. “From now on, I’m ready to balance those scales. Let’s see how fast the blood of the wicked flows.”
He dropped Mateo’s hand. “’Cause I’m betting Rogziel is a bleeder.”
C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN
T
omas took them to Rogziel’s hideaway. There were guards walking the perimeter of the area. Three men, armed with guns. Seline had never seen them before, but Sam took one look and muttered, “Humans,” and she figured if anyone could make that instant call, it would be him.
Sam’s gaze swept the scene, and he inhaled deeply, then said, “Dammit.”
Seline tilted her head and caught the light scent of flowers. The smell didn’t come from inside the compound. No, instead, that scent seemed to be coming from . . . right behind them.
No!
Seline spun around. But Rogziel wasn’t waiting with his cold eyes. Delia stood behind her. Actually, the angel floated behind her. “Time to make your move,” Delia said, her gaze on Seline. “Rogziel isn’t there. You can get the woman out.”
Seline licked her lips and hoped this wasn’t a lie. But, wait, angels couldn’t lie . . . just twist the truth to suit their purposes.
“Helping me?” Sam drawled. “Delia, I thought you’d rather see me burn than ever lift a wing to help me.”
“I’m not helping you.” Delia shook her head. “This isn’t for
you.
I just don’t believe innocents should be punished.” Her gaze finally slid from Seline to take in the two Fallen. “Better hurry. Someone will be coming back very, very angry.”
“Coming back?” Seline repeated, voice going hoarse.
“Um, it seems . . .” and Delia’s gaze cut once more to Tomas. “Rogziel finally realized the obvious. Sometimes, you just can’t go home again.”
Her wings spread behind her. She raced up into the air and disappeared into the clouds.
Sam laughed and glanced toward the house.
Tomas grabbed his arm. “You can’t trust her. She could be setting us up
for
punishment.”
The guards hadn’t noticed the angel. She’d moved too fast. And they probably hadn’t realized they should be watching the sky. Their mistake.
“I don’t trust her,” Sam said, “but I’m fucking ready to attack.” Then he vanished, too. No, he didn’t vanish, Seline knew that he just moved so fast he blurred—angel speed. The first guard went down, slumping back, and Seline knew Sam had subdued him.
The second guard didn’t even have a chance to gasp before he hit the dirt. The third—Sam snatched his gun right out of his hand and then knocked the guy out with one punch.
Sam grabbed the front door and ripped it right off the hinges.
Seline had to admit, that was rather hot.
Then Tomas pushed her forward, and they raced inside the house. She realized immediately that those guards outside had just been the beginning. More men and women swarmed, but Sam sent them scurrying back when he let out a blast of fire.
“You don’t want to fuck with me,” he told them.
Two men ran away. Seline guessed they weren’t in the fucking mood. Four more guards opened fire. Bullets slammed into Sam’s chest. Seline screamed.
“Warned you,” Sam said, and more fire burst free from his hands, flaring higher and greedily chasing Rogziel’s team.
Tomas swore. “You’re killin’ her!” He ran away from them and hurried down the snaking hallway.
“Sierra!”
Seline jumped forward and delivered a hard right hook to the nearest guard. She snatched away his weapon and swiveled in time to slam it against the head of the idiot who’d been grabbing for her.
But then, Sam laughed. That laughter was rather eerie. Too cold and dark. The hairs on her arms stood up. She risked a glance at him. His gaze was pitch-black. “Playtime’s over,” Sam muttered. He waved his hand. All the guards lifted into the air. The guards rose higher, higher. They were screaming, begging—
Sam dropped them.
They stopped screaming.
Seline’s breath heaved in her chest. Her fingers touched the throat of the man closest to her. Even as she stared at Sam with wide eyes, her trembling fingers searched for a pulse.
Searched . . .
“He’s still alive, sweetheart.” Sam seemed to mock her. “For now.”
A light pulse beat beneath her fingertips.
Screams came from deep within the house. Sam caught her hand and pulled her to his side. “Stay with me.”
His eyes were still black. The air crackled with his power. The dark edge she’d always sensed in him had never been closer to the surface. Dangerous. Evil?
Not Sam.
She believed in him. “Try to keep me away,” she muttered. “Try.”
His lips crushed down on hers. Wild. Hungry.
Then the rooms swept by in a blur as he took her deeper into the maze of corridors. They followed the screams. Found the bodies. More guards. Some bleeding, some limp.
There was Tomas, just up ahead. He was driving his fist through a metal door and—
And Seline smelled brimstone.
“No, dammit!” Sam’s roar. She knew he’d caught the acidic scent, too.
“Tomas, stop!”
Too late.
The door caved in, and the growls spilled into the hallway, growls that were immediately followed by the hulking body of the hellhound as the beast leapt onto Tomas.
Azrael heard the screams from inside the old house. He saw the bodies of the guards outside, littering the ground. Smoke drifted into the air, a lazy beacon that had drawn him in.
The smoke . . . and the blood. Lately, the blood always seemed to draw him.
He’d known Rogziel for many centuries. Known him, watched him, wondered when the bastard would fall.
So he’d known all about this little hideaway.
His brother was inside. Already battling Rogziel? Why? To save the succubus?
Az’s head throbbed as he stared at the flames. He didn’t understand what was happening anymore. Sammael had never cared about saving anyone. Had he?
I ask for nothing. From now on, I take.
Sam’s words, when Az had asked him to seek forgiveness. But Sam had refused. He’d fallen instead of repenting.
“An angel dies today.”
Az didn’t turn at Mateo’s words. Yes, he knew Mateo. He’d lived for too long and seen too much not to know about the crossroad spirit.
When folks wanted to cheat death, they went to the crossroads.
Foolish. No one had ever been able to cheat him. He’d been delayed before, but not stopped.
“Did you see that in your mirror?” Az demanded.
“Aren’t you going to help him?” Mateo asked instead. “After all, he is your brother.”
The smoke curled thicker in the air. Now, he could hear the rough sound of . . . growls coming from the house. The growls were too deep for wolves or coyotes, and they were growls that he would have preferred to never hear again. “Someone has let the hounds loose.”
“Sam will trade his life for hers,” Mateo said.
Now
that
made Az look at him, but Mateo’s stare was on the fire. “Sammael won’t trade his life for anyone’s.” That was a sacrifice his brother would never make.
“He’d die for her.”
Impossible. Sammael couldn’t—
“Even the mighty fall, sooner or later.”
Az remembered screams. Women. Children. He remembered his brother, cutting a path through the dead with eyes gone pitch-black as he killed and killed and killed.
Punishing?
No, Sammael had lost his control. The beast inside his brother was too strong. “He won’t sacrifice for anyone.”
“You’ll see. He’ll burn.” Mateo advanced slowly toward the rising smoke. “An angel dies . . .”
Az stared after him, watching, torn.
His heart raced too fast. His palms were sweating. His muscles locked too tight.
Sammael.
Sacrifice?
He hadn’t understood the emotions he’d seen in his brother’s eyes that long-ago day. But those same emotions—they’d glittered in Sammael’s stare when the succubus vanished earlier.
Sammael had always felt too much, and those emotions had been the problem.
Az’s hands fisted.
Now it’s my problem, too.
Because he wasn’t just going to stand back while Rogziel killed his brother.
Az stared at the blaze. Heard the hungry growls, and he whispered, “Come get some, dog . . .”
This hellhound was even bigger than the one before. Bigger, darker, with a mouth at least twice the size of the last beast that had come at them. Just staring at the hound made Seline’s knees shake.
This hound had sunk its teeth into Tomas’s shoulder. Blood spilled beneath him. Tomas tried to grab the hound’s head, and almost lost his fingers.
But Sam was there. She watched as he shoved his foot into the hound’s head, giving a kick that made the beast howl.
Tomas leapt to his feet. “Get the fuck back to hell!” He roared and lifted his hands. Fire blasted out at the hound.
“No!” Seline yelled, but the fire had already reached the hound. It absorbed the flames and its eyes flashed an even brighter red. Then the hound got bigger.
Dammit.
“Help me!”
A woman’s scream came from inside the room. Oh, no, that woman—Sierra—had actually been trapped in there with the hound? And the monster hadn’t eaten her?
Tomas’s head jerked at Sierra’s cry, and he rushed forward, right into the path of the hound.
But Sam knocked the beast out of the way. Seline expected the hound to lunge for Sam, but instead, the hound’s head turned, slowly. It licked its lips and focused that fiery stare on Tomas once more.
“Rogziel gave it your scent,” Sam snapped. “You’re its prey.” The hound slammed its body into Sam’s side and knocked him back.
You’re its prey.
Sam had told her that a hound didn’t stop until it took its prey.
Sam’s shove had sent Tomas stumbling to the ground. The hound closed in on him now.
This time, Seline ran in front of Tomas. Her heart raced so fast that her chest shook. But she’d stopped a hound before. She could do it again.
Right?
“Get back,” she gritted to the beast. Flames were snaking down the hallway. Great. Fabulous. Just what the hound needed—more power. “Get away from him. Go back to hell!”
The hound looked up at her with its fangs bared.
She straightened her shoulders.
“Go back to hell!”
Her words were close to a roar.
“Seline!” Sam screamed.
The hound leapt at her. Powerful paws slammed into her chest, and she hit the floor. The hound’s paws shoved against her and the beast hurtled forward over her—right at Tomas.
But Tomas wasn’t alone. Mateo stood beside him. “Let’s see just how well you can hunt,” Mateo said to the beast as he tossed a bottle into the air, a small bottle that Sam snagged with his left hand. In the next instant, Mateo and Tomas vanished.
Get-the-fuck-away
spell. Seline knew the witch had used it. Talk about some nice timing . . .
The hound howled and raced down the hallway, and Seline knew the monster was chasing after Tomas’s scent. Her breath choked out in a relieved gasp. That had been too close.
Sam grabbed her hand and hauled Seline to her feet. “The hound will find them.”
She knew he was right. The hound wouldn’t stop. Not until it had them. “I-I couldn’t stop it.” She’d tried, but—
“Please, God! Someone, help me!”
“You can’t control them all.” Sam kept hold of her hand and pulled Seline inside the room. “You can only control the one bound to you.”
Knowing that little piece of trivia would have been helpful earlier.
Before
she’d jumped in front of the hellhound.
“You have to summon it, Seline. You have to control
it.
You have to get
it
to kick ass for you.”
A woman with dark red hair waited in the middle of the room. Seline tried to hurry toward her.
Sam hauled her back. “No.”
“Please!”
The woman’s fists thudded into some kind of invisible wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “There was some kind of wolf in here with me. I thought it was going to eat me!”