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Just hold . . . baby . . . coming , said Luka, his psyche bumping hers.

Naomi gently cricked her neck, trying to ease the ache there—an ache that had been caused by her head being slumped forward while she was out cold. Waking to find that she was bound to a chair by ropes of magick hadn’t pleased her in the slightest.

Her little nap had been enough to make the dizziness pass, though. More, the pain in her head was subsiding now, enabling her to think. But she was still a little off , her psychic strength having taken a hard hit—hence why her demon hadn’t yet struck at their enemies.

Whispers came from the clerics surrounding her. She ignored them as she scanned the temple yet again on the off chance that she’d missed a clue as to her precise location.

Among the religious symbols on the walls was the Lemures ’ emblem, so she had to be at the monastery. That was all she knew.

She mentally crossed her fingers that Konstantin was all right.

She tried thinking back to what had happened.

She remembered the rush attack, remembered blasts of hellfire, remembered sensing more such blasts, as if other demons had arrived—likely alerted by how the unnatural darkness had fallen.

She’d heard cries of sheer agony, and she hoped like hell that none had come from Konstantin.

She was pissed that she’d passed out. More, she was pissed that these bastards had managed to take her off guard—as was her entity. That anger seemed to feed the warped fiery power within her. It was already heating and rising in response to the danger.

The crowd stirred, and then the clerics directly in front of her started shuffling aside, making way for a tall figure. He had a real Jesus vibe going on with his beard, shoulder-length hair, and full-body aura of light.

The clerics bowed, but he paid them no attention. He took purposeful, elegant strides toward Naomi, his pale-blue eyes fixed on her intently.

Reaching her chair, he loomed over her in a clear attempt to intimidate her—his chin high, his back straight, his chest puffed out. There was an air of serenity to him. It was fake as fuck, of course, but very good.

“You must be the one who calls himself Kushiel,” she said. Her demon was very still, watching him carefully; observing its target, biding its time as the heat of her inner fire built and built.

He gave her a placid smile. “I am Kushiel,” he lied, so convincingly that it was almost impressive.

“Now that’s not exactly true, is it?” she challenged with a chastising smirk.

He flapped a hand. “I do not expect you to recognize me. My kind do not consort with yours, after all. Feel free to telepathically call out to whoever you want, by the way,” he added. “They won’t understand much of what you say.”

Yeah, she’d figured that much, considering she’d struggled to understand both Luka and Tobe when they’d telepathed her.

It wouldn’t have mattered if she did have a clear mind-to-mind connection to them—there was absolutely nothing around her that would clue her in as to where they could find her. Not that she needed saving, but still.

“It was quite arrogant of you to have only one bodyguard when you knew a divine force would come for you,” he reprimanded condescendingly. “His soul will be in hell now, along with those of the other two demons.”

She stiffened. He’d killed Konstantin? This motherfucker.

Anger and vengefulness swirled in her bloodstream. But not defeat. Not hopelessness. Not fear. Because these people had no real fucking clue what they were dealing with.

“Why am I here?” she bit out. Why hadn’t he just killed her already? He should have. Which he’d learn soon enough.

“Three times my clerics made an attempt on your life. None ever came back to us.” Kushiel tilted his head. “I got curious. Curious as to how a siren could be so easily defeating them time and time again.”

“I would have thought that an angel would be grieving their deaths, not merely feel curious as to how they came about.”

He ignored that. “You must be far more powerful than you seem. Divine power is quite lethal for demons.” He crouched in front of her. “But not for you, apparently.”

She forced herself not to flinch as he touched her cheek—another attempt to intimidate her, no doubt. Her entity hissed at him, preparing itself to pounce early if necessary. Naomi’s psychic strength was returning, but it was a slow process.

He studied her closely, inhaling through his nose. “As I suspected, there is holy blood in you. You have a celestial somewhere in your family line.”

Murmurs traveled through the crowd, coated in alarm and agitation. Oh, “the holy” did loathe it when demons possessed angelic DNA.

“Is that why Lucifer chose you to be the mother of his child? I would expect so.”

Funny, he truly did seem to believe that she would birth Lou’s kid. Maybe he put stock in the prophecy as a whole, not merely the part predicting his demise.

“You know what’s interesting?” Naomi asked as the red-hot power within her pushed upward and started pooling beneath her skin, awaiting release.

“What?”

“That holy blood you mentioned? It hums when I’m around another who possesses it —angels and such.

Not sure why, but it always has. It isn’t humming right now.

Which tells me that you’re no celestial.

But then I already suspected that. The clerics’ swords all scented of dark magick. Swords that you gave them.”

He didn’t look fazed by her words. “If you are seeking to turn these clerics against me, it will not work,” he claimed, the image of confidence.

“Don’t be so sure of that. I overheard the last group of ‘brothers’ talking. One—think his name was Henry—claimed that you aren’t quite as angelic as you first appeared.”

His jaw tightened at that.

“Others agreed that your requests and responses weren’t so divine in nature anymore. They were suspicious. I’ll be surprised if there aren’t others among this monkhood who harbor the same suspicions.” She briefly scanned the large crowd, noting a few avert their gazes or shift uneasily.

“Such lies and manipulations,” scoffed Kushiel, standing upright. He sniffed, haughty. “I would expect nothing less from the consort of Satan.”

“Satan and Lucifer are two separate people. Any celestial would know that. The fact that you don’t only supports my claim that you’re no angel.”

His eyes went hard.

“But hey, I’m sure you could easily prove me wrong. Calling on heavenly light, for instance, would do the trick. Fill the room with it here and now,” she dared.

He forced a dismissive smile. “I do not have to prove anything to a demon .”

“But it would put these clerics’ minds at rest. As servants of God—a being you supposedly revere and love—they must indeed matter dearly to you.”

“The only thing making these clerics uneasy is your existence. Of course, as of tonight, that will no longer be an issue.” Kushiel clicked his fingers. Almost instantly, a bunch of clerics rushed forward to place buckets near her chair.

Naomi regarded him through slitted eyes as he conjured a ceremonial dagger.

“Let me guess . . . you plan to bleed me out. It’s what a dark practitioner who feeds off anything holy would do.

They’d drink my blood; use it in their rituals.

” A typical practice. “Of course, if you’re truly a celestial, you’ll have no such plan.

You’ll just kill me outright, because my blood would have no value to you. ”

He didn’t react other than to glare down at her in annoyance, a light flush creeping into his face at the rise in air temperature.

She smiled. “I’m right,” she accused. “You intend to bleed me out. How are you going to justify that to these people here?”

“A demon does not deserve to harbor holy blood. Being drained of it is an appropriate way for you to die.”

She snickered. “That so?” He had an answer for everything, didn’t he?

“Look, these clerics might buy your brand of crap. But I don’t.

If you were truly an angel, truly favored by God, you would not be here.

No celestials are permitted to walk the earth until demonic tempers have cooled.

The last thing the people upstairs would do is make matters worse by targeting yet another demon. ”

“They made an exception for you, since it is essential to prevent the birth of the Antichrist.”

“That would imply that you knew about the prophecy before you came here. You didn’t learn of it from the clerics?”

He pressed his lips shut, his eyes flickering.

A grin tugged at her mouth. “Ah, you weren’t aware of it until you came to them.” Something he couldn’t lie about, because the clerics would know. “If you had no knowledge of it, well, God had no reason to send you to these people, did he?”

“He did not go into the specifics of my mission, true,” he clipped. “But he was clear that the Antichrist might soon walk this earth if I did not aid the clerics.”

“Oh, I see. Explain one thing to me, then.” She paused. “How is it that a supposed angel, who’d know and speak the old languages, wasn’t able to tell that they’d mistranslated the prophecy?”

His brows flicked together, a mix of confusion, doubt, and interest rippling across his face. He wanted to hear what the prophecy might say, but he wasn’t sure if he should believe her.

Right then, Luka’s mind touched hers. Naomi, we’re . . . Need . . . finding . . . flames.

Uh, yeah, she wasn’t too sure what he was saying. Not knowing how much of this would make sense to him, she replied, Don’t worry about me, Luka, I’m just dandy. I got this, trust me on that. She paused. I’ll be home soon.

Kushiel inched up his chin, sweat now dotting his forehead. “Just like Lucifer himself, you are a great pretender. Full of lies. No wonder he chose you.”