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I watched him, the urge to burn off the blood and convert it to magic riding me hard. Instead I focused on the vial of it in my hand. I held the container up to the light streaming in through the window.

“Don’t lose that,” Asher warned.

When this was the only thing holding Asher to his word? “I won’t.”

Twenty minutes laterthe vial dangled from a necklace I’d fashioned from some of Asher’s rope. I couldn’t stop touching it.

“Can you stop looking so fucking gleeful about having my blood around your neck?” Asher said from next to me.

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips.

He had agreed to cross over.

The deadliest, most wanted native had agreed to cross over. And I, an Infernarus, hadconvincedhim. I was so proud of myself.

And of him. I peered over at Asher through the locks of my hair. He’d agreed to see Abyssos, despite his hatred. He let me collect his blood as collateral. Neither of these things came naturally to this hardened human.

“So who’s this broad we’re meeting with?” he asked.

My hand wrapped around the vial. “Gandmaddox. She lives in... Nola?” I wasn’t sure if I was saying that right. I rattled off the address I’d long since memorized.

“New Orleans?” Asher huffed a laugh. “Hah, I knew there’d be demons there.”

Asher

In the heartof the French Quarter—a block from Bourbon Street—Grandmaddox’s house sprouted like a weed out of a too-small lot wedged between hotels. Top-heavy with ivy-covered iron balconies, the four-story brick Creole townhouse sagged like a Jenga tower. It had already begun to topple, in fact, leaning precariously against the neighboring hotel.

Painted monkey skeletons hung in the dusty, first-floor windows, alongside jars of pickled eyeballs.

Awesome.

The front door jingled and opened into a smoky tea room advertising psychic readings—the demon moonlighted as a tarot card reader, apparently.

Lana pushed into the empty shop ahead of me, which made up the entire first floor, and I glimpsed the vial of my blood dangling over her sternum. Her collateral.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Coming here was a bad idea.

Giving her my blood was a bad idea.

Trustingher was a bad idea.

But why not? A demon’s word bound them like a physical law. Lana could no more violate our agreement than she could walk through walls.

Around her neck, my blood was safe.

At least, untilIviolated our agreement. Which I would probably do.

Return with her to Abyssos? Unlikely. I would steal that vial back before we even had the opportunity to cross. Or maybe I would hop down for a quick peek before I destroyed the portal—I could at least give her that in exchange for its location.

She wanted to show me how the Infernari suffered, she wanted to convince me to spare them.

She could try, but it wouldn’t work.

My hatred of demons ran deeper than she could ever imagine.

Behind us, a bleeding orange sun set between the buildings, casting the front of the shop into a fiery glare while leaving the back in shadow. On the wall, a cuckoo clock ticked slower and slower, as if time itself was stretching out. Place gave me the creeps.