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And now I would be forced to betray them, because the human had saved my life.

I let the connection close, not wanting them to sense my sadness through it. My brethren didn’t know yet.

In fact... Asher didn’t know yet, either.

I opened my eyes, sensing the tiniest flutter of hope.

He must never know.

If he didn’t know, then nothing had to change. I could still be a nasty thorn in his side, I could still fight him every step of the way, I could still force him to answer for his crimes. I could try, at least.

My body, which had begun to wither away and die, sensed I still had a purpose and began to fill with life again. I started to breathe again.

And since I wasn’t dying—yet—I still had to tend to my physical needs.

I healed the worst of my wounds, then, ignoring my nausea, I sat up and slid open the metal slot. “I’m hungry. And I need to use a bathroom.”

Asher didn’t answer.

“Did you hear me, Asher?”

Again he didn’t answer, but not too long after we pulled off the road.

I would have to be very careful from now on to disguise my intentions, to be hateful and scathing toward him, when every fiber of my being wanted just the opposite.

Because from this day forward, the most ancient and sacred of Infernari oaths dictated my behavior. When he risked his life to save mine, he had created a debt that all Infernari must honor, a debt that I was required to repay.

From this day forward, no matter how much it plagued me, I was sworn to protect him.

Chapter 9

Asher

A potty break.

The demon needed a goddamn potty break. As if this whole situation wasn’t absurd enough.

I exited Interstate 81 and pulled into the nearest gas station, but didn’t let her out right away. Instead I sat there, clutching the steering wheel and breathing hard through my nose in an attempt to calm down, my brain and body still feverish from what had just happened.

Brad. Dead.

“Damn you, Brad,” I muttered. “Always got to be the fucking hero.”

I’d told him to stay put, told him to guard Lana. But no. First chance he got, he charged out like a cowboy, guns blazing.

Even if he had somehow stumbled clear of the fire, the demon would have tracked him down and roasted him.

Harbingers of death, demons were.

They brought catastrophe and misfortune to all whom you loved, descended on them like a sickness, like a plague.

You idiot, Brad.

I gritted my teeth, preferring anger to the much worse pain of grief.

This was the second time he’d risked his life to save mine, and the second time he’d shackled me with a burden instead.

The first time, he’d burdened me with the deaths of my wife and daughter, when the humane thing to do would have been to let me perish at their sides. Now, he’d burdened me with his own death.