His eldest brother was worried.
“There are many powerful demon lords,” Isabelle said. “And each one of them has dozens—maybe even hundreds of factions loyal to them. There’s no indication Azerius is involved with Viansa or her larger plans to destroy the hell gates, but again, we can’t rule it out. This is a long war, guys. Animmortalwar. It was waged long before you were turned into vampires and will continue long after House Redthorne passes into memory.”
“So where does that leave us?” Dorian asked. “What’s our play? We can’t just let the succubus continue on unobstructed.”
Turning back to Gabriel, Isabelle said, “If you could bring me something Viansa touched—or better yet, some part of her, like blood or a few strands of hair—I might be able to do a locator spell. But given the speed at which she’s moving across the city, I don’t know how helpful it will be. Our best bet is probably Jacinda.”
Gabriel was already shaking his head. “I told you. The witch can’t be trusted.”
“Viansa is hersister, Gabriel. We can’t dismiss Jacinda’s insights just because she withheld information from you.”
“Withheld information?” He nearly laughed. “Isabelle, this isn’t some schoolyard game of secrets. She knew the dangers her sister posed—knew the succubus was responsible for binding our curse. She deliberately misled me at every turn, put all of our lives at risk, put this entirecityat risk, and let’s not forget—Jacinda herself is part demon. A bloody hybrid created to destroy us all. The woman makes the Rogozin partnership look like a match made in heaven.”
“Maybe so,” Isabelle said. “But that hybrid is also our best chance at finding Viansa and preventing the entire city from collapsing into a sex-induced coma. And something tells me that’s not even her endgame.”
“Just the foreplay,” Aiden said, cracking up at his own joke.
Dorian scoffed. “Remind me next time to leave you home.”
“And miss the chance to see you and the princelings go down in a blaze of glory over yetanothersupernatural crisis? No way. I paid good money for these front-row seats.”
Immune to Aiden’s nonsense, Isabelle cupped Gabriel’s cheek, her touch as comforting as a mother’s. In a soft voice, she said, “What would you like me to do then, Gabriel? I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”
Gabriel closed his eyes and exhaled, slow and deep.
That was the fucking question, wasn’t it? Whatwouldhe like her to do?
What the fuck washesupposed to do? With his brothers? With this new threat? With the witch he still—despite everything she’d put him through—couldn’t get out of his fucking head? Couldn’t get out of the very heart she’d planned to destroy?
He opened his eyes and shook off Isabelle’s touch—a kindness he didn’t deserve. “I would like you to deal with the demon exorcism. I’ll deal with Jacinda and meet you back here in an hour.”
“How, precisely, are you planning to deal with her?” she asked.
Gabriel glanced at the booth where the demon bastard still sat, moaning incoherently, stinking up the place. He looked at Dorian, recalling Azerius, recalling Malcolm, recalling their father, recalling all the things that had threatened to destroy their family over the centuries—all the things they’d somehow, despite the odds, survived.
So far.
Gabriel donned his sunglasses and headed for the exit, his response a faint whisper that lingered in his wake.
“I will deal with her in the same manneralltraitors must be dealt with.”
Chapter Three
Blood dripped down the bathroom mirror, sliding into the marble sink in deep, ruby-red swirls. It reminded Jaci of the peppermint candies all the shops and restaurants kept in little bowls by the cash registers during the holidays.
But there was nothing festive about a demon summoning. Especially when the demon she so desperately needed to reach wasn’t picking up.
“Come on, Meech,” she said, pacing the bathroom. Flickering candlelight threw harsh shadows on the wall, casting the room in an eerie glow. “Be there. Fuckingbethere.”
No response. Again.
After hours of failed attempts, Jaci was damn near crawling out of her skin with worry.
She stopped pacing and glanced again at the mirror.
Not even a glimmer of hellfire shone from the other side.
It should’ve worked. It wasn’t like before when she’d had to improvise with the apples and broken glass during her first few days at the apartment. Now, Jaci had her proper summoning potions, her anointed black candles, the athame—all the magical tools that’d made connecting with her cousin possible in the past.
