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  Demon. Cold fear rushed over him. Intending to speed dial Ash, he grabbed his phone, but it was yanked from his grasp and thrown against the wall. The phone shattered.

  The demon appeared. The creature was the size of Mack truck. His large eyes were red, and his bumpy skin was black. Rows of sharp teeth filled his evilly grinning mouth. “Give me the vessel.”

  Nor looked down at the lion body on the desk and grabbed it. He took off toward the break room, thinking maybe he could barricade it and then escape out the window. Going out the front was not an option. Nor burst through the door, but he barely got inside before the demon caught him. He scooped the lion out of Nor’s grip and backed the shifter against the wall.

  Nor growled and started shifting. Getting into his wolf form would up his chances of survival.

  The demon laughed, and slapped a cold, scaly palm against the werewolf’s neck. The shift instantly reversed, turning Nor into his more vulnerable human self. Burning pain seared his flesh, and he cried out. The demon got in his face and bared its teeth. “Tell Ash that Lilith says hello.”

  Chapter Seven

  Broken Heart, Oklahoma

  ASH SAT IN bed propped up on pillows while she scanned the news on her tablet. Jarod had gone downstairs to get breakfast for them both. She’d texted Nor, but hadn’t heard back from him. The man took forever to get ready in the mornings, so she wasn’t too concerned about his lack of response. Ash couldn’t stop the smile when she thought about telling Nor she’d slept with Jarod.

  More than that, actually.

  She’d connected with him. It was a new feeling, and one she surprisingly enjoyed.

  Someone knocked. Ash got up, slipped on Jared’s shirt, which reached her knees, and answered the door.

  “Rick.”

  “Hi, Natasha.”

  Ash winced. She hated the reminder of her painful past. The only time the name didn’t raise the ugly memories was when Jarod used it. “Please call me Ash.”

  He nodded. “Ash. Sure. May I come in?”

  She gestured for him to enter. After he walked inside, she shut the door. “How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty awful really.” He huffed out a breath. “You told Maggie that Sarah—my wife—was dead.”

  “She asked me, I told her.”

  “You don’t tell a kid that her mom’s dead.”

  “I do a lot of things, Rick, but I don’t lie.”

  He swallowed hard and briefly closed his eyes. “So, she really is dead.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” Ash said softly. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “We were making dinner. Maggie had just finished her bath and was supposed to be picking up her toys. I smelled this … Jesus, I don’t know … like something rotten. Something burning. Everything in the kitchen went wild. I heard this horrible laughter then the knives flew off the counter and…” He didn’t finish, but he looked devastated. Waking to a life ruined was a feeling she knew all too well. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  The silence that stretched between them was filled with seven kinds of misery. She had spent so long shoving down her feelings, that a moment like this one felt like getting filleted by a dull knife. Jarod had cracked the walls around her heart. Now she was feeling shit hardcore. So much for my mind of steel and heart of stone.

  She took his hand and squeezed. “Make a life here, Rick. You and Margaret are protected in Broken Heart.”

  “We don’t have anywhere else to go.” He glanced at her. “Are sure Maggie is safe here?”

  “Yes,” said Ash simply.

  “She’s still asleep. She cried herself practically into a coma.”

  Ash’s gut twisted. The kid had been so strong on the ride to Broken Heart. Her dad had been unconscious the whole trip, and she’d never once shed a tear. She’d waited until she’d felt safe—safe enough to grieve. Ash admired the little girl. Margaret and Rick had a shot at a real second chance in Broken Heart, but she knew that healing often hurt worse than the initial wound.

  “Trust me when I say you both will survive. It won’t feel that way for a long while, but day by day it gets better.” The loss of her mother would either make Margaret stronger or break her completely. Ash bet on stronger. “I’m leaving this morning. Say good-bye to her for me.”

  “I will.” He turned and then stopped, looking over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  After he left, Ash flopped back onto the bed. Cripes. Caring about people was crazy hard work.

  Marietta, Ohio

  CLAIRE AWOKE SUDDENLY, her body soaked with sweat and her heart pounding. She sat up and snapped on the tiny lamp.

  What the hell just happened?

  Nightmares were nothing new. She often dreamed of the accident. And her dreams, terrifying or not, were always in color. Her last image of Henry was his bloodied face, his gaze filled with pain. Those horrors had faded, but watching the light go out of her fiancé’s eyes was not a memory she would ever forget.

  This nightmare had been different, though. It hadn’t involved Henry. Instead, she’d ran through a cemetery, fear keeping a constant tempo with her heartbeat. The full moon glinted off a marble crypt, and she headed toward it. Relief filled her as she darted through the doorway.

  The small building was empty. Candles in wall sconces offered dim light. Against the back wall was an altar. Incense sticks lodged around the top emitted thin trails of fragrant smoke from their burning ends. Two fat red candles sat on either side of an empty space.

  The idol was missing.

  “You can be with him again,” a voice whispered on the wind whistling through the sarcophagus. “I can reunite you.”

  The air stilled. The candles flickered around the empty space. “You hold the key.” The voice, distinctly female, grew stronger. “Do you love him enough? Are you brave enough to risk everything for Henry?”

  Claire shuddered. She swung her legs off the bed and wiggled her toes against the shag carpet. It had all seemed so real. She couldn’t begin to decipher all the symbols. Or was it … literal? She nearly discarded the thought but hesitated. If she interpreted the nightmare literally, then she had some sort of object that would fit into that alcove. And the crypt existed.

  Ever present grief speared her. The dream had presented her with an offer. A sacrifice that would reunite her with the only man she’d ever love. In a way, it was worse than seeing Henry’s bloodied face. The dream had made her hope, and there was nothing more wounding in the stark face of waking reality. Tears crowded her eyes. She fell onto her side and wept into her pillow. When she couldn’t cry anymore, she pried open her puffy, aching eyes.

  The owl head, bright red and glowing in a sea of gray, stared at her from the nightstand.

  Claire sat up and swept the owl into her shaking hands. This was the treasure. The only color she’d seen in a whole year. It had been in the living room when she’d gone to bed.

  How had it ended up on her nightstand?

  Had she really awoken from the nightmare? Maybe she was still in it. Or maybe she’d finally gone insane. She reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Her gray world collapsed, and the whole room became vivid with colors. The sight left her confused and crazed.

  Claire turned the owl around in her hands. She’d trade her own soul to see Henry one more time. Maybe she had gone insane, but she didn’t care. A cheap, red owl head couldn’t hurt her.

  Claire felt the oppressive presence immediately. She gasped for air as icy fear coated her.

  Before her appeared a massive creature that belonged only in nightmares.

  This isn’t real. I’m still dreaming.

  The creature placed his scaly claws on her head. “You are the sacrifice that will free my queen, and you will be reunited with your love. Come, human. Thy destiny awaits.”

  Broken Heart, Oklahoma

  AFTER BREAKFAST, ASH and Jarod left the Three Sisters. Ash patted the pocket that protected the silver-painted clay snake. They’d been c
alling it a necklace, but it was more like a bracelet. It was just as cheap and gaudy looking as the lion’s body.

  “How do we find the third piece?” she asked.

  “I think it will find us.” He nodded at the couple walking toward them.

  “Hi,” said the dark-haired man. “I’m Matt Dennison, and this is my wife Natalie.”

  “Hi. I’m Ash. He’s Jarod.”

  “Sorry to be abrupt,” said Natalie, “ but I have a very persistent spirit named Henry, who says his fiancé is in trouble.”

  “You’re from the Amahte Family,” said Jarod. The Amahte vampires could see and interact with ghosts and other types of spirits.

  “Yes.” Natalie grabbed Ash’s hands. “Claire Glass lives in Marietta, Ohio. She’s under the influence of a demon. He’s taking her to some old cemetery there—one they don’t even use anymore. You’ll find her in a black marble crypt at the back edge of the property.”

  Shocked, Ash stared at the woman. “Claire Glass? Are you sure?”

  Natalie looked off to the right and then nodded.

  “She was my best friend from elementary through high school.”

  “Well, I guess this part will make sense to you then.” Natalie’s lips thinned. “Maybe. Henry says, Claire has the owl. She is the third sacrifice.”

  Matt took Natalie’s hand and drew his wife into his embrace. “Good luck, Ash” he said.

  “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” Natalie added. Together, they turned and walked away.

  Adrenaline spiked in Ash’s belly. Fear beat a mantra in her mind: Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  “Let’s get to the cemetery,” said Ash. “We have to get to Claire before the demon kills her.”

  “We need the lion and the snake,” Jarod said.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ash knew what the prophecy said, but it was a huge risk to have all three pieces together.

  “It’s the only way to truly stop her. She already has the first two sacrifices, if she manages to make your friend the third, the only hope we have is to trap her in the statue.”

  “Okay,” Ash agreed. She didn’t like the plan, but a bad plan at this point was better than no plan. Besides, Claire’s life and the fate of the world left her little choice. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Eight

  Marietta, Ohio

  CLAIRE DIDN’T DRIVE anymore. Color was an intrinsic part of most traffic signs. And not being able to see red or green at stoplights was problematic. To go anywhere, she had to take the bus. Her mind felt clouded. Every so often, she’d surface from the fog and wonder what was happening. The demon, hiding in human form, would smile at her, look deeply into her eyes, and she’d fall into fog once more.

  The nearest stop to the cemetery was six blocks away. With the demon holding her hand, they got off the bus. Cold rain drizzled. The chilly drops pelted her face and dribbled down her neck.

  They hurried along the sidewalk. The glare from the streetlights highlighted the graffiti-filled walls, the trash-strewn gutter, and the barred windows of the closed businesses. Most were pawnshops interspersed with a beauty shop, a gun store, and a Mexican restaurant with filmy windows.

  The man wore Henry’s clothes, and Claire felt a burble of guilt. She shouldn’t have kept any of his clothes. It wasn’t like he would ever be able to wear them again. Seeing Henry’s button-down shirt and crisp khakis on the demon made her angry, but the emotion was a dull throb. She couldn’t figure out how to change what was happening.

  “Not far now,” he said, his toothy smile flashing at her, sharp and white.

  Claire trudged beside him, unable to protest.

  The red owl sat in her purse. Waiting.

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  AFTER THEY ARRIVED at Soul Searchers via the exploded atom method of travel, Ash yelled, “Nor! We need the lion.”

  She paused. Something felt wrong. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. “Nor?”

  “Why is it so hot in here?” asked Jarod. “Don’t you use the air conditioner?”

  “It requires electricity.”

  “You don’t have electricity?” Jarod’s dark eyebrows winged upward. He pulled a cell phone out of his front pocket and hit a single number. “I’m at the office of Soul Searchers, just off Fremont in Las Vegas. Get us electricity. Take care of every debt and bill related to this office, to Natasha Nelson, and to Sedrick North. Just start a running account.”

  Within a few minutes, the lights flickered on. Her computer re-booted. The rest of the office machines beeped to electronic life. Best of all, cold air began to pour into the room. Ash wasn’t sure if she should be pissed off or grateful. She went for a combo. “Thanks, but you don’t have to fix my problems.”

  “Did I mention that I’m filthy rich?” asked Jarod.

  “Oh.” Ash smiled. “Nor will really want to keep you now for being both filthy and rich.”

  “As long as you do, too.”

  Ash felt herself blush. Blush, for God’s sake. She walked around Jarod so he wouldn’t see her reddened face.

  Ash strode across the room and opened the door to the tiny kitchen with its single table and two chairs. “Nor!” Her partner lay on the floor. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he had passed out from one of his typical booze ‘n love fests, but his body was too still, his face overly pale. She squatted next to him, panic rising within her.

  “Nor? Nor!” Ash patted his cheeks, afraid to check for a pulse.

  Jarod knelt next to her. “What’s that on his neck?”

  She peered at the three slanted lines enclosed in a circle. Nor didn’t have any tattoos. How the hell had this one gotten on him? “I don’t know.”

  Jarod pressed his fingertips against Nor’s carotid artery. “He’s alive.”

  Relief cascaded through Ash. “We need a healer.”

  “I agree.” Jarod retrieved his phone and pushed a button. “Patrick, is your Mom around? Ask her to come to Soul Searchers—yes, Natasha’s office in Vegas. We have an emergency.”

  Two seconds after Jarod’s call, a red-haired goddess dressed in a diaphanous green gown arrived in a shower of gold sparks.

  “Brigid,” said Jarod. “Thank you for coming.”

  She knelt down and examined the prone werewolf. “Demon poison. I haven’t seen that symbol in a while.” Her sharp gaze sliced Ash. “The sign of Lilith.”

  “Shit.” Ash was officially pissed. And she was going to kill Lilith. “This is my lycan, Brigid. Mine. Do not let him die.”

  “I will do all in my power to keep him alive.” Brigid picked up the six foot four, 240-pound man as if he weighed no more than a bag of feathers. “If you don’t stop Lilith, I can only postpone the inevitable. If she is able to manifest, her power will be too strong for me to abate. Your friend will become one of her minions.”

  Ash understood all too well what Brigid implied. If she didn’t stop Lilith, Nor would be lost to her. The lycan wouldn’t want a life without choices, certainly not a life ruled by an evil puppet master. “Brigid…If we can’t stop her…Nor. He wouldn’t want…” Ash choked down the emotion welling inside her. “He hates to wear black.”

  “I understand, Ash.” Brigid smiled. “I’ll take him to Broken Heart. Come when you can.” She and Nor sparkled out of sight.

  Heart pounding, Ash strode to her desk, pulled open a file drawer and grabbed the box that held the lion’s body. She tore off the lid and swore.

  It was empty.

  “Fucking demons.” She tossed the box to the floor and kicked the desk, furious. She’d sent Nor home with the statue. She’d put him in danger. It was her fault. Her parents. Rick’s wife. Claire. And now Nor. “Fucking bitch!” she screamed, tears running in hot streaks down her cheeks .

  Jarod wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as he held her against his chest. “We’ll stop them at the cemetery, Natasha. Lilith won’t win.”

  For a moment, she took his comfort, but she knew she had to get h
er emotions under control. She stepped out of Jarod’s embrace and nodded sharply. Her jaw clenched with her barely contained fury. She would teach Lilith just who was the biggest, baddest bitch in the land. The demon queen would regret challenging Ash.

  “Let’s go.”

  Jarod took her hand, and in seconds, they were gone, cells exploding and zipping along, on a direct path to Lilith.

  Marietta, Ohio

  IN THE AWFUL crypt, Claire fought the hold the demon had on her. She surfaced from the mind-fog and backed away, clutching her purse. That owl head was the key to this whole mess. She knew that she couldn’t let him have it, not for anything.

  He put a headless lion into the candle-lit alcove. “Place the owl head on the lion’s body!”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “It does not matter. Do as I say!” He lifted his arm as though he meant to strike her. She hunkered against the wall, and screamed.

  THE RUSTED IRON GATE sported a damaged sign: Garden Hill Cemetery. The narrow road that led into the defunct cemetery was several feet to the left of the crumbling mortuary. The gate opened easily, so it wasn’t exactly high security.

  Sheeting rain pelted them, but Ash shrugged off the storm. She understood the dark. She thrived in it. But this wasn’t about her survival, it was about her friends. Nor and Claire first, she thought, then the world. She didn’t want to think about how her drag queen werewolf was fighting for his life, or how her childhood friend might lose hers.

  Jarod took her hand and squeezed. With that simple gesture he reminded Ash that for once, she wouldn’t be alone. Not ever.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  She lifted his hand, their fingers twining together, fitting perfectly as if born in union. “For finding me.”