Riesgo looked toward the field and frowned. “Where did they go?”

Eve’s gaze followed his. Montevista and Sydney were nowhere to be seen. She engaged her mark-enhanced vision and delved into the darkness beyond the reach of the powerful field lights. “I don’t know.”

She started down the bleacher steps with growing apprehension. The moment her foot hit the dirt, a flash of white caught the periphery of her vision. Too fast to be mortal. Lightning-quick, Eve darted after it. It was faster than she was, feinting to the left and right. Several seconds later, she found herself on the pitcher’s mound again. She ran back Riesgo. The priest was presently rubbing at his eyes with his fists.

“I must be wiped out,” he said. “My vision’s getting blurry. One second, it looked like you were over there. Then the next, you were right here.”

Catching his elbow, she tugged him toward home base. It was rarely good to be cornered, but at least she’d have one less side—their rear—to worry about defending.

“What are you—” He quieted, sensing her preoccupation. Without another word, he bent and picked up a metal baseball bat. Sans the collar and dressed in black sweats, he looked like someone you didn’t want to fuck with . . . if you were mortal.

Eve’s brows rose, but she put her back to his and tried angling him to face the corner. He, being the chivalrous type, tried to maneuver her the same way.

The flash of white came again, but this time it stopped in front of her. An Infernal such as she’d never seen, with white hair and eyes. He was wearing an ice-blue and silver Halloween costume that included a doublet and bombastic hose.

Her connection with Reed allowed her to recognize the demon inside the getup.

“Azazel,” she greeted grimly.

“Hello, Evangeline.”

Riesgo positioned himself shoulder to shoulder with her. “Is this the guy that’s after you?”

“One of them.” Eve sent up a request for a flaming sword. She wasn’t too surprised when nothing happened. She widened her stance and raised her fists. The demon laughed, a sound made more maddening for its rich, deep tone.

This Infernal was clearly good at his job.

“Stand easy, Evangeline.” The unknown voice rumbled through the air from no discernible source.

The ground shook and a fissure opened. Blood rushed upward from the depths like a geyser before settling into the shape of a man with massive, beautiful crimson wings.

Satan. Eve knew who it was without any help.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Riesgo breathed. He made the sign of the cross with his free hand.

“Mary can’t save you, priest,” Azazel said, with a malicious smile. “God won’t save you either.”

Fear blossomed in Eve’s chest like a spreading stain. The Prince of Hell was impossibly beautiful, far more so than even Sabrael. His skin shimmered as if coated with gold dust. Shiny black hair fell halfway down his back, rippling and writhing with a life of its own. The silky tresses moved sinuously, covetously; caressing him as a lover would, framing a face that could not have been more perfect. His irises flickered like flames, while his mouth curved in a smile that was terrifying for its seductiveness. The urge to undress and spread her legs for him was strong enough to tug Eve forward one step. She jerked herself to a halt by clinging to Reed in her mind, like a snapping flag anchored to a pole.

“Ah,” Satan murmured, circling from a distance with a smooth alluring gait. Sex incarnate. “I see why they want you. Looking at you makes a man hard and ready to fuck.”

Eve flipped him the bird.

With a careless wave of his hand, he snapped the digit, bending it backward until her knuckle touched the back of her hand. She dropped to her knees, screaming.

Riesgo stepped forward, but she caught him with her left hand around his ankle. As a mortal, she would never have been able to stop him. As a Mark, she nearly toppled him.

“Don’t,” she ordered in a richly nuanced rumble.

He stilled instantly, frozen.

Persuasion. A gift given to Marks that she likened to the Jedi mind trick. Why it would kick in—for the first time—now, when what she really needed was a weapon, was a gripe she would add to her long list . . . later. And while she was bitching, she’d mention the failure of her mark to kick in and give her some ass-whupping mojo.

Where was Reed? Alec? Anyone?

She released the priest and reached for her broken finger, groaning through gritted teeth as she wrestled it back into place.

Azazel tsked. “They teach less and less respect as the years pass, my liege.”

Satan came to her, looking down at her with gorgeous, emotionless eyes. His clawed fingertips lifted her chin and moved her head from side to side. His touch was cool, almost tender. She was riveted as much by that tenderness as by horror. Deep inside her, something trembled in paralyzing fear.

With proximity, the full effect of the Devil’s allure was undeniable. He wore a three-piece suit that reminded her of Reed, but the overlong hair and Dr. Martens were Alec’s. Even his features and build resembled her lovers, as did his scent—smoky, exotic, and deeply male. She wondered if he wore a guise to disorient her, or if she and God just had the same idea of what constituted a hot guy.

“Get away from her,” Riesgo growled.

Satan shot him a bored but dangerous look.

Eve caught the Devil’s wrists, wincing at the throb of her injured hand. It would heal with time, but would hurt like hell in the interim. “It’s me you want. I’m the one who ran over your dog. Let the priest go.”

The Devil’s sleek head turned back to her. He looked amused. “But the priest is the means by which I will force your hand.”

She quivered inside. “No. You don’t need him. Deal with me.”

“You do not yet know what I want,” he crooned, cupping her face in his hands. His touch was so invasively cold it seeped into the very marrow of her bones, making her shiver violently. “Perhaps I want to defile you, lovely Evangeline. Perhaps I want to do things to you that will break your mind and spirit. Perhaps I want to watch while others do those same things to you. Listen to the melody of your screams until there is no fight left in you.”

She wished she could laugh at his drama, but really, she feared pissing herself instead.

Where were Montevista and Sydney? Were they battling Infernals somewhere? Were they dead?

“Please. L-let him g-go,” she managed through chattering teeth. She might as well be dunked in a frozen lake for all the warmth she felt.

Riesgo growled and began to speak. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the—”

“Shut him up,” Satan snapped.

Azazel flew like a bullet across the yardage that separated him from Riesgo. The priest was in the middle of a retaliatory lunge at impact, the crashing of the two bodies thudding violently. The ground opened as they fell, swallowing them whole. As the chasm closed as if it had never existed, the earth shuddered like a child who’d swallowed particularly nasty medicine.

“Oh my god,” Eve breathed, so shocked and frozen that she barely felt the burning of her mark. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Satan smiled, his thumbs brushing across her trembling lips. “Such a lovely mouth. You really should be working for me. I would appreciate your cynicism. I certainly appreciate how readily you discount Jehovah’s lies.”

Somehow she managed to wrench free, tumbling to her side and crawling with what strength she could muster. He followed her with leisurely steps, his hands clasped behind his back.

She stopped after progressing only a few feet. “What d-do you w-want?”

“Poor Evangeline,” he murmured, reaching for her. “You are chilled to the bone. Let me warm you.”

The moment his hand touched her skin, warmth coursed over her body like a hot summer breeze. So startled was she by the change that it took a moment before the sudden softness of the ground beneath her registered.

Satan straightened. Eve’s head turned slowly.

It was now the middle of the day, and they were far from the baseball field. Warm sand cushioned her side and the sun blazed in the cloudless sky above her. It was a desert of some sort, barren except for golden sand and large monolithic outcroppings. The chill in her blood began to fade. She struggled to her feet, ignoring the hand that the Devil held out to assist her.

Eve faced him with shoulders back and chin lifted.

“Some of your mannerisms are so like hers,” he murmured, with a mysterious smile.

“So like whom?”

“Your namesake.” His gorgeous blood-red feathers fluttered in the oven-hot breeze. “Otherwise known as the ransom you will bring to me in return for the priest. And Raguel.”

“Eve!”

“Angel.”

She spun to face the two men who charged into the house. Freed from the necessity of watching the wolf, Eve took in the state of the house. Fire licked along the walls from the hallway, rushing toward the fresh air introduced through the front door. The blaze she’d started in the living room had spread to the kitchen. The whole house creaked in protest, shuddering at its impending collapse.

Alec reached her first, snatching her up and tossing her over his shoulder. The sword clattered to the floor.

“Time to go,” he muttered.

The next instant she found herself by the Porsche, disoriented and barely breathing. Around her was chaos. Twin piles of ash dotted the lawn, as did the bodies of two Mark guards. Two wolves fought with those who remained standing. The dragon was acting as cover for the Marks, spewing fire according to the directions shouted from the gwyllion, who stood on the roof of the van.

“Is he d-dead?” she gasped, clinging to Alec as the sky swirled madly above her. “Is the wolf really dead this time?”

Reed’s voice came clipped and furious, “I’d say so.”

“Are you sure?” she persisted. “We burned him up before and the son of a bitch came back.”

Alec pressed his lips to her forehead and released her. “Ash is ash, there’s no coming back from that. Can you get Montevista out of here?”

Eve blinked. “What?”

He gestured to the passenger seat where the guard laid crumbled, his black shirt glistening wetly, his throat torn and gushing. If he were mortal, he’d be long dead. As a Mark, he was damn close to it. Defenseless and vulnerable.

Reed pressed keys into her palm. “Go.”

A piercing howl rent the air. They turned their heads, saw a massive wolf on the front steps. It stared at them with bared teeth and glowing red eyes. The white diamond on its forehead told her who it was, but she asked anyway, “Is that Daddy?”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Alec yelled, his wings snapping free with such force, Eve was plastered to the hood. Reed joined the fray, the two brothers launching forward, intercepting the wolf, who charged at her full-bore while flanked on either side by two wolves.

Black and white wings, powerful masculine bodies, ferocious beasts… She was arrested by the sight. The eternal conflict between angel and demon. The battle cries and howls of pain. The smell of fire and ash, of blood and urine.

“Hollis…”

Montevista’s weak voice snapped her back to reality. Eve slid off the hood. She leaped over the driver’s-side door of the open convertible and hopped into the seat. She turned the key in the ignition and the powerful engine roared like a dream. She squealed out of the driveway in reverse, running over an attacking wolf in the process.

Gripping the stick shift, she slammed the transmission into gear and punched the gas. She adjusted the review mirror, trying to see the fracas behind her. Montevista yelled in terror. Eve’s gaze shot forward and she screamed, too. She stood on the brake. The Porsche’s rear end fishtailed wildly, the car skidding down the street passenger side first…

…straight for the house-sized, flesh-colored beast thundering toward them.

The car juddered to a halt.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, then coughed as her lungs burned. Was that the hellhound?

Turn around and run, Alec bit out. Only Infernals can kill it.

Wasn’t that just really damned inconvenient?

She looked back at the blazing house and the two winged men who circled low over it, combating the wolves that poured out of a widening hole in the ground. Satan was sending reinforcements. They couldn’t deal with the behemoth from Hell on top of that. No way.

One wolf broke free of the melee and raced toward her, foaming at the mouth and lathered at the throat. The Alpha.

Eve restarted the stalled car and spun around, hurtling toward the wolf with the same reckless intent he displayed. If it was just a game of chicken between a canine and a car, she’d know who would win. But against a werewolf… She gripped the steering wheel tighter and shifted gears in rapid succession.

A foot away from impact, the wolf leaped onto the hood, his massive claws piercing through the metal. He roared at her through the windshield, his red eyes wild and filled with evil. He lunged head first into the safety glass, shattering it.

Fucking A.

Downshifting, Eve yanked the steering wheel hard left and spun the car back around, skidding across the empty street and hitting a curb. The bump dislodged the wolf, who slid across the hood and almost fell off before gaining purchase at the very nose.

She gunned it, putting the Porsche through its paces as she accelerated toward the approaching mega-Infernal. Zero-to-sixty in less than four seconds.

“This might not work,” she shouted at Montevista.

“Go down in a blaze of glory,” he said back.

“Give me your gun.”

Montevista pulled the weapon free of his thigh holster and racked it, then handed it over. She aimed and fired through the wolf, the Glock autoloading and discharging again and again and again. The sixth bullet widened the hole in the Alpha’s shoulder and pierced through the other side, hitting the hellhound. Covered in werewolf blood, the bullet penetrated the beast’s hide. Eve continued to fire, punching through the back of the wolf to injure the hound with nearly every shot.

The hound screamed in fury and lunged. Eve punched the gas. With the Alpha as a hood ornament, she hit the beast head on.

Pausing in the center of the main living space, Eve shook off the feeling of a ghost walking over her grave. The men’s half of the duplex was on the other side of the master bedroom walls and the three other females were only feet away. Yet her body was tense and her stomach was knotted. Every creepy, awful horror flick she’d ever seen was brought to life by the musty smell and unfamiliar noises of the house and surrounding exterior. The illusory perception of some homicidal maniac standing behind her made her want to shiver… if only the mark would let her.

“Damned sadistic imagination.”

Eve. The rumble of Reed’s voice hit her as the sensation of a hot summer breeze–a warmth drenched in the darkly erotic scent of his skin–engulfed her.

She reached back to him, grasping for the thin thread of awareness that flowed between handlers and their Marks. She’d heard that some Marks were able to share whole thoughts with their handlers, but she didn’t have that ability. For her, it was only distant echoes of emotion. She secretly wondered if that was her fault, if she was afraid to let him in because of Alec.

Or maybe… due to more personal misgivings.

Feeling too exposed, Eve retreated both mentally and physically, stepping out of the shaft of moonlight and into the shadows. As she withdrew, she felt Reed lunge for her. She froze, startled by his vehemence. His concern and apprehension were so strong she felt them as if they were her own. Something was wrong wherever he was, something that had him checking on her and assuring himself of her safety.

Eve rolled her shoulders back. Alec and Reed had their own burdens to bear. They had more experience, but their jobs weren’t any easier than hers. She was a big girl and she needed to take care of herself.

I’m okay, she told him. Don’t worry–

A group of dark forms moved through the moonlight, arresting her in mid-thought. Their shadows raced across the patch of light on the hardwood floors.

Frightened, Eve’s gaze shot to the window and out to the view beyond. The street was eerie in its lifelessness. The streetlights were dim, the houses across the way were dark, the road empty of cars.

“Just a flock of birds,” she whispered, wishing she was one of those people who weren’t afraid of anything. “You need sleep, that’s all.”

A large hunchback shape lumbered across the lawn toward the men’s side of the duplex, moving in the opposite direction of the shadowy figures.

“Christ,” she breathed, then winced as the mark on her arm burned in chastisement. Her marked enhancements woke with a start, stealing her breath. Heat flared across her skin, misting it with sweat and blackening her vision. She’d ridden on a rollercoaster once that had made her feel much the same. The car had shot from the station like a bullet, building speed with every second, hurtling her toward a towering precipice framed with a ring of fire. Her fever returned with a vengeance, but instead of wiping her out with exhaustion, she was possessed by a wild, edgy energy.

Eve sprinted to the front door and disengaged the locks. She looked outside, engaging her nictitating lenses to see. The two guards who had been stationed at the front and kitchen doors were already in motion, running stealthily around either end of the hedge fence that bisected their property from the neighboring one.

But they were heading in the opposite direction of the hunchbacked form.

Her gaze lifted beyond their retreating backs. There were other unwanted visitors out there. She could see what looked to be half a dozen tall and lean forms moving rapidly in a disjointed pack. They prevented her from calling out to the guards or even whistling.

She glanced down the hallway at the other bedrooms and considered waking the girls or at least grabbing her gun. But Infernals had hearing as good as hers and trying to keep quiet while performing either action would eat time she didn’t have. If that lumbering thing was after Gadara, she couldn’t allow it to get any closer.

Threats are to be neutralized, not minimized, the archangel had taught. Do not prevaricate. They learn with every confrontation and you do not want to give them the chance to ambush you in the future.

“Go,” she muttered to herself grimly. “You can scream for help after you stop it.”

Locking the door behind her, Eve took off around the front of the house. Blood lust spurred her stride and her muscles flexed in anticipation. Her senses were so acute she could hear the faint sounds of a television show coming from an occupied house a couple blocks away.

Usually archangels were ensconced in buildings filled with Marks who acted as an early warning system. It was impossible for a stinky Infernal to sneak past all of them and get to an archangel. At least it had been impossible before the creation of the Infernal mask. Now, all bets were off.

Gadara had only four guards to protect him and a class of newbie Marks who couldn’t even smell whatever the poodle had detected.

Kicking off her sandals, Eve ran barefoot across the coarse dead grass that covered the shared lawn. Ahead of her, the bulky creature rounded the front of the duplex and disappeared down the cement pathway that led to the entrance of the men’s side. A light was on in the living room, but a sheet had been draped over the window, blocking the view of the interior. As Eve ran past, she heard Gadara speaking. The resonance of his voice betrayed his power, creating a potent lure to an ambitious Infernal.

You can do this. She deliberately ignored the size of the Infernal she hunted. The demon was easily six and half feet, with massive shoulders and a protruding back. Eve had no idea what class of Infernal fit that description or what its specialty might be. It could have razor sharp teeth and claws, or it could spit fire like the dragon that killed her on Sunday. Or perhaps it had some other, deadlier talent.

Don’t think about it.