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“Dante, you son of a bitch,” Liam growled. “You can have this dagger when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

Dante frowned. “While it is one possible outcome, I do hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Vivian offered him her most winsome smile. “Dante, darling. Could you be a dear and allow me to confer with my”—gag—“mate for a moment?”

He nodded. “You have ten minutes to talk him off that ledge, Vivian. Then I’ll order my men to take the room.”

“Understood.Excusez-moi. I’ll just be a moment.” She eased the door closed and bolted it.

Twenty

“Good thinking,”Liam praised his Bride. With a winsome smile and a politely worded request, Vivian had bought them some time. Guess her gift for schmoozing aristocrats had finally come in handy. “Now, all we need is a plan.”

She flapped her arms, snarling, “Plan, Liam? Really? Look around you. It’s just as Dante said. We are completely trapped and outnumbered.”

“Yeah, I figured as much, but I was trying not to freak you out. Way I see it, we’re pretty much screwed. One positive, though.” He hitched a shoulder. “You’re about to become a widow.”

“Liam, youimbécile.Do you honestly believe I want you dead or injured?”

He arched a brow. Didn’t she?

She cut him a scathing look, stalked to the dresser where he’d left the dagger, snatched it up, and turned it over in her fingers. “Alistair considered this his greatest accomplishment. He murdered dozens in its creation, violating those victims in the worst way possible. He robbed them of their very souls. If I hand this over to be used by Zion, I’m abusing them all over again.”

This wasn’t a time for her to go soft on him. Her tender heart would get them both killed. “Those victims you’re moaning over, they’re long dead. Right now, all we need to worry about is saving our own hides.”

“You’re suggesting we give it to them?”

He scraped a hand over his face. “What I’m saying is, they’re dead, and we’re alive, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Imbécile.We cannot trust that Dante will honor his word.”

“Getting mighty tired of you calling me an idiot,” he said, his voice a rumbling growl of warning.

Of course, she ignored that warning, daring to thrust a finger beneath his nose. “This soul sword is an object of unfathomable power created from dark energy. It doesn’t take an Oracle to understand that if Zion gets his hands on this, thousands, maybe millions, could suffer. We can’t let that happen at any cost.”

He flung his arms wide, voice rising with his frustration. “What do you want me to do then? We’re trapped in a room with one exit. On the other side of that door is an entire legion of fire demons eager to roast us over a pit. Tell me, Mistress Vivian, what are your orders?”

“I don’t know.” She slapped the soul sword down on the dresser.

Light exploded in the room, frying his retinas. He blinked, staring at the dagger. “What the hell was that?”

Vivian clutched her hands to her chest. “I’m not sure. It’s never done that before.”

He grabbed the blade and tapped its edge on the granite top. Sparks shot from the blade, and the surface of the dresser blurred then rippled like water. “Well, now. That’s interesting.”

She peered up at him, eyes wide and brimming with inspiration. “Surely, we can use that to our advantage.”

Viv was right. He was animbécile. His new Bride had him so distracted he’d missed one important fact. They were trapped in a room—along with an object of unimaginable power. Maybe instead of protecting the blade, it was past time they put it to use. But how? He circled the space, eyeing the walls.

Knuckles rapped on the door. “Two minutes,” Dante called out.

“Stay behind me.” He guided Vivian around his bulk. “Don’t know if it will recoil.”

“What are you doing?”

No clue.“Just stay out of my way.”

She wrung her hands, for once doing as she was told. Liam eyed the wall and reared his arm back. With any luck, it wouldn’t blow his hand off. “Here goes nothing.” He squeezed his eyes closed and stabbed the dagger into the wall. Bright light flashed behind his eyelids. The blade stuck in the stone.