Seraphina poked him with one long, elegant finger, making him jolt. “Are you listening to me?”

  “No.” He shook himself. Idiot. “But I am now.”

  Stop mooning over her. You’re worse with her than you were with Dru. And he’d known Dru decades.

  But you never kissed Dru.

  “You actually asked Lucifer about the conditions of his re-ascension?”

  “I did.”

  “And he let you?”

  “He did.”

  “But...why?”

  “I met with every Hell-lord when it came time to set up my guild.” Truth. He couldn’t lie or she’d know... “And I asked them each a series of questions I thought was relevant to the guild’s interests. And to my well-being.”

  “And you decided on Hades, not Lucifer, after that interrogation?”

  “Just because Lucifer was once an angel, it doesn’t make him better suited to being my overlord. Hades fit the bill.”

  Lucifer had come across as a smarmy jerk, Satan as psychotic, and Hades as ruthless but practical. It was the latter that had won Trick over. Lucifer wouldn’t put anything above his own self-interest, even his own damned pride, and Satan was rumored to have a thing for his half-sister, which was all kinds of disgusting, even for a demon. Hades stuck to his deals and Trick needed someone who wouldn’t turn on him the moment the tide changed.

  Which is why this whole seven-day-or-your-dead-thing is really out of character. The contract still hadn’t come through, either. Normally, Trick would refuse to work without the paperwork in place, but this was Hades. You did as he asked, or else bad things happened to you.

  Seraphina looked...confused, for want of a better word.

  “What is it?” Trick asked.

  “You think Lucifer isn’t good enough to work for?”

  “He’s the first fallen angel. He got kicked out of Heaven by God, not by the other archangels. And anyway, just because someone is an angel, it doesn’t make them intrinsically a good person. Angels still do bad things.”

  Her gaze turned fierce for a moment, as if she would argue, but then she shook her head. “You’re right.”

  This conversation was getting a bit too heavy. “I always am.”

  She snorted in derision, but at least he’d lightened the mood.

  Her phone chimed, and she fished it out of a tight back pocket. A smile broke over her face, the expression radiant with triumph. “I have something.”

  “Your phone, yes.”

  She rolled her eyes. “My contact at the Cat on a Broomstick came through.”

  “You mean the Theodora Broome actually agreed to work with you?”

  Trick had been trying to get spells from the Crone for decades, but she’d told him no deal. Wouldn’t even agree to meet with him in person to hear his case.

  Seraphina smirked. “More than once.”

  “Fine.” Trick spun the crystal on the coffee table three times to turn off the display, then pocketed it. “Let’s go.”

  “Go where?”

  “To get the intel.”

  “I will go alone.”

  “You can waste another Devilsgate spell, or I could just teleport you to the shop. Either way, I’ll follow you.”

  She scowled. “Fine.”

  Trick came around the coffee table and held out his hand.

  “What’s that for?”

  “So I can teleport you.”

  “Can’t you do it without?”

  “It would use up a lot of power, unnecessarily. It’s easier to have an anchor.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you’re with the person you want to teleport, touching them serves as an anchor. Seeing them does it, but takes more power. If they were somewhere else—and I wanted to teleport to them—they’d need to have something familiar on them. Something to lock onto, hence the anchor.”

  “I see.”

  Sighing, she placed her palm in his, the contact searing in its intensity. Maybe you should sleep with her, just so this attraction will go away. It was a crazy idea, but one he’d have to think about some more. He concentrated, and then they were in a side alley near the Cat on a Broomstick. Rather silly name for the shop, but Trick wasn’t about to let Theodora know he thought that.

  Seraphina dropped his hand like it was a bomb about to go off, then strode around the corner and toward the store. She paused at the threshold, waiting for him to catch up.

  “We just storm inside?” he asked.

  “We go inside like regular people.” With that, she opened the door and stepped into an asthmatic’s worst nightmare.

  Trick winced at the pungent hit of incense, while avidly taking in the contents of the shop. He’d been here once before, some fifty years ago. His time inside had been very short-lived after being kicked out by a blue-haired termagant who’d been the owner at the time.

  Theodora’s mother, if he was correct in his recollection.

  Half-expecting her to leap out at him any second now, he followed Seraphina in a winding course around sets of drawers, tables and glass display cases. They reached the counter, where a brown-haired youth sat playing on his iPhone.

  Seraphina cleared her throat.

  “Welcome to Cat on a Broomstick. How can I help you?” He didn’t even bother looking up from his device.

  Suddenly, a hand came out of the shadows behind the counter and thwacked the teenager on the back of the head, making him fumble his phone. “Ow!” But he didn’t rub his head as he was too busy juggling the cell he’d nearly dropped. He turned back to his assailant. “Gran!”

  “I told you no phones at the counter.”

  “But I was just checking a message...”

  “You didn’t even look up.”

  “Whatever.” But he spun around on his chair to face them, stopping with a lurch the moment he spotted Seraphina.

  There it is.

  The dumbstruck look of awe that humans must feel when faced by the fallen angel.

  I hope I kept my mouth shut.

  The old lady—Gran—emerged into the light, and tapped the boy hard on the shoulder. Power flew from her in a steady stream. This same little old lady had delivered Seraphina’s lipstick to the guild and hit on him in the process. But the elderly woman wasn’t looking at Trick, this time. Instead, she growled at her grandson. “Shut your mouth, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

  Obediently, the boy closed his jaw.

  “I’ll be out the back. If you play with your phone again in front of a customer, I will burn it.”

  “Gran!”

  “I wonder how fast it will take to catch fire?” the witch said, stalking toward a door ten feet away.

  Seraphina and Trick followed.

  Is this Theodora Broome?

  The aura of power—something she’d muted when visiting the Halcyon Guild back in Tartarus—was too strong for her to be anything other than a Crone. I always wanted a witch as part of the guild.

  Maybe he could talk to Theodora about arranging a placement? He didn’t even have to enslave them.

  The Crone stood at the door, then waved a hand at them. “In.”

  Seraphina swept inside, Trick close on her heels. She sat on a small sofa, and while normally he’d take the seat next to her, just to unsettle her, he decided on pulling out a chair from the small table. He didn’t particularly want to unsettle himself.

  “So, you said you had something?” Seraphina said into the quiet.

  “Thanks for the introduction,” the Crone muttered, then batted her eyelashes at Trick.

  “How rude of me.” But Seraphina looked more amused than chastised. “This is Trick, ruler of the Halcyon Guild. Trick, this is Theodora Broome, Crone of the witches.”

  He smiled, flashing his pearly whites. “It is such a pleasure to finally meet you. You didn’t have a time to introduce yourself last time.”

  She humphed, then sat down next to Seraphina. “Call me Dora. Can you take off your shirt?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I need to do that?”

  “Research.” Dora leered at him.

  “She’s hitting on me again,” Trick said. He was almost flattered.

  Seraphina shook her head. “We’re wasting time. Back to business. You said Rowan found something in her search.”

  Dora shot him an apologetic look, like Seraphina was ruining all their fun.

  “I’ll let her tell you.” Dora whipped out her own cell. “Pfft. Dorian out there has the newest model of iPhone. I should make him swap it with mine, for being such a pain in the ass.”

  “Who is Rowan?” Trick asked. Seraphina had yet to fill him in on the details.

  “She’s my granddaughter and she doesn’t believe in magic. So, keep any talk of it to yourself, got it?”

  That only led to more questions, but he nodded. Perhaps if he made a good impression on Dora, she’d work with him in the future.

  The door opened and a redheaded woman burst inside, a book clutched in her hands. “I found it! I found the replica.”

  Chapter 19

  Trick mouthed the word ‘Replica?’ at Seraphina, but she ignored his query. She’d explain it all later.

  “So where is the spear? The replica?” Seraphina had moved half out of her seat as she asked the question. Catching Dora’s look, which Yael would translate as ‘calm your farm’, she lowered herself back into place.

  You can’t go marching off just yet.

  Dina’s voice in her mind.

  Dina? she called out telepathically.

  But there was no answer.

  It’s just your imagination; your thoughts sounding like her voice. If Dina was really speaking to her, it wouldn’t be for some small warning. Surely she would say where she was being kept, how she fared? How they could find her...

  “It’s here!” Rowan opened the book that had been clutched to her chest and thrust it out at them. Her fingers covered half a photo, but Seraphina read the caption beneath.

  “Purported replica of the Amenonuhoko,” Trick murmured. “Do you really think this is it?”

  “Wait.” Rowan pulled the book back to her chest, then eyed Trick like he was diseased. Seraphina could sympathize with the thought, but was surprised the woman had reacted in such a way. Trick was nothing if not pretty to look at.

  “Who is he?” Rowan asked.

  “This is my business associate, Mr. Trick,” Seraphina said.

  “Trick?” An auburn eyebrow rose skeptically.

  “What? Your surname is Broome.”

  Dora skewered him with a dagger-sharp look.

  “I said I’d give this information to you, not to every man and his dog,” Rowan said.

  “I am only one person, and I don’t own any dogs,” Trick commented.

  The guild had a strict no-pets rule—Seraphina had seen that in the welcome pack. He gave the girl a charming smile, and Seraphina was surprised that it only seemed to strengthen her resolve against him.

  I think I like her.

  Rowan was moral, upright, and had an instinctive wariness about Trick. All of which impressed Seraphina.

  “Rowan, please. They are business partners working together.” Dora’s voice was stern, yet also slightly pleading.

  “Fine.” Rowan tossed the book at Seraphina.

  She caught it in one hand, then flipped it over so she could read the cover. “A Catalogue of the Private Collection of Luke M. Starre?”

  Trick hovered near her elbow. He smelled spicy, like an expensive cologne. “Morning Star.”

  Luke was short for Lucifer, she realized. And Lucifer translated to ‘bearer of light’ or the ‘morning star’...

  “He doesn’t believe in being inconspicuous, does he?” Seraphina whispered.

  “I told you, the guy has no style.”

  She wasn’t about to quibble over that. Louder, she said, “It says this is a catalogue of a private collection?”

  “Yes.” Rowan nodded, tucking a strand of fiery hair behind her ear as she did so. “This guy has an immense one. Half of the items have a provenance listed, but a lot don’t. Your spear is one of the ones that doesn’t. Which makes sense, in a way, if it’s a replica.” Rowan paced the small area. “But it also says it was created in the sixth century CE, which means that it would have been made soon after Shinto was described in literary records.”

  Seraphina could feel Trick’s curiosity burning like a torch, but she ignored it. “Thank you for this.”

  Rowan turned to them. “This artifact was probably stolen. But if you get it back, how will you know which family to give it to?”

  “We can’t reveal the identity of our client. But it will be returned to the proper hands.” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “I really do hope you give it back to the Japanese people. It’s theirs, not this Luke’s, or anyone else’s. Uh, where are you going with that?” Rowan held out a hand for the book.

  “Home, to read it.” The more knowledge she had about this spear and its location, the better.

  Rowan frowned.

  She wanted to tell the girl, I do sympathize with your beliefs, but when a god wants something, he gets it. But the girl wouldn’t believe her, and Seraphina’s warrior training had not really prepared her for this. Gods are meant to smite you, not humor you.

  “It’s a library book, I can’t let you do that. It’s in my name.”

  “Could we at least borrow it so we can scan the relevant pages?” Trick asked.

  “I guess...”

  “I have an app on my phone. I can do it right now.” Trick took the book from Seraphina, his fingers brushing hers, sending sparks along her nerve endings.

  She nearly winced.

  I don’t like that my body is so aware of his.

  Trick flipped the book closed, and held his phone over it, taking a picture. He then worked his way through the tome, with Rowan pointing him to the relevant pages. She seemed relieved at this solution.

  I could have paid the fine or replaced the book.

  But in a way, she understood. She wouldn’t have wanted to lend her weapons out to anyone she did not trust, and books, Seraphina realized, were Rowan’s weapons—or her defense.

  “Done!” Trick handed the redhead the book.

  “Thanks.”

  Dora stood, leaning over slightly with the effort. “I will email you the bill.”

  Seraphina flashed the witch a smile and nodded at Trick. “Don’t email me, email him.”

  The guild owner rolled his eyes. “Lucky me.”

  *

  “Holy fucking cow. Did you even bother to negotiate the rate?” Trick asked, staring at his phone.

  Seraphina glanced at him. “Do you have to cuss so much?”

  He looked at her like she was crazy. “I live in Hell, I run an assassination guild. Of course, I do.”

  They were back in his quarters, the golden-flecked crystal dormant on the table between them. Papers were spread either side of the gem; copies of the book Rowan had found, plans of Lucifer’s residences, and the addresses of each.

  “It can’t be that costly. Dora charges a fair rate,” Seraphina replied. She returned her attention to the pages from the artifact book. He’d taken more photographs than she’d realized.

  “Thirty grand just for telling us about a book. The guild gets paid less than that for some assassinations.”

  “I wouldn’t get out of bed for less than one hundred thousand dollars,” Seraphina replied, picking up another the page. Although, saying that, Azrael had done most of the wet work. But not all. “You need to up your rates.”

  “I have to be competitive. I can’t just pick and choose what I want—I have forty people here who need work.”

  So they can buy their freedom.

  Was it wrong of her to admire the fact he wanted to enable them to do so?

  “Just pass the bill on to Hades.”

  “Invoice him for it?” Trick rubbed his chin. “But he’s a god.”

  “Who employed you to do a job. If this was the Falling Star, I’d be invoicing him for all expenses, unless I offered a flat fee. Since he gave you the job, charge him whatever it costs. His fault for not negotiating, and for threatening us with death if we fail.”

  “Good point.”

  She ran her fingers over the copied pages of the book. Rowan is right, she thought, Lucifer does have an immense collection of artifacts. Perhaps even greater than the one possessed by Set, the former Egyptian god of chaos. Azrael and Dru had raided his fortress a few weeks ago to steal Odin’s Orb. It hadn’t been an easy mission; they’d been attacked by a dragon, trapped in a Devilsnare, and had to behead the god to escape.

  Although, that wasn’t enough to kill Set, apparently.

  Revenge would no doubt follow them.

  I will be there to help when it does.

  Assuming she could survive the next few days and pay off her debt.

  Once they entered Lucifer’s stronghold, they would have to avoid any and all conflict with the fallen angel. They couldn’t risk engaging him in a battle. He will be stronger than Trick and I combined. And they had up to seven such strongholds to investigate.

  Trick spun the crystal in its pattern, and the plan of a large mansion appeared. “Despite the size of this place, it can’t possibly house all of Lucifer’s artifacts. Only the Tower of Tortures can, and Baal—I mean, Laird—didn’t think it was there.”

  “His information is out of date, but we can ask around.”

  “I already have Sylvester on it.” Trick rotated the mansion.

  “This book was published ten years ago. Do you think that the catalogue’s contents might still be in the Human Realm? He would have had to have brought his collection there for inventory.”

  “Only if the person doing the recording was human.”

  “Hrm.” She flipped back to the page outlining the author’s details, but ‘Charity Smythe-Wilson’ didn’t give much away.

  “How many demons would call their children Charity?”

  “I’d like to say none, but some might do it out of spite.” Trick shrugged. “Or it’s a pseudonym.”

 

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