“I try to avoid killing kids over theft. I thought you felt the same. You had me save several Hellfire kids from being sacrificed in that ritual on Halloween. Telly not worth saving, too?”

“Actually, no. Telly was a dangerous little piece of garbage who sold something that wasn’t his to half the Earthbounds in Morella.”

“You didn’t know it was him. That’s why you sent us over to Merrimoth’s that night.”

“If Merrimoth was my only Judas, I could punish him. The elixir’s effects aren’t permanent, you see. They wear off after a week or so. But when bizarre crimes started making the news here, I knew I had a bigger problem on my hands. Which is why I sent you out to Merrimoth’s that night—so you could bind him while Lon dug around in his head. If you’d just done what I’d asked, we might’ve narrowed down the problem to Evan Johnson a lot sooner.”

“But you would’ve still killed his kid.”

“Oh, I had Evan killed, too. This morning, near Los Angeles.”

Jesus!

Dare smiled. “If you run, I always find you. Remember that, Miss Bell.”

“Is that why you’re here? So you and your thug can teach me a lesson with a bullet?”

“No bullets. I’d merely like to make a deal with you.” Dare nodded toward his minion, a middle-aged man with graying hair and the towering, boxy frame of a bodyguard. “Beryl here is an Earthbound, as you can see. But he has some minor magical talent, much like Lon. He’ll be the one sealing the deal. I’d like a magical oath from you, once we’ve agreed upon terms.”

I really didn’t like the sound of this. I needed to arm myself, and fast. If I could make it behind the bar, I could grab my caduceus staff. Maybe if I could lure them into one of the binding triangles that hadn’t been covered in red paint, I could trap them. Fat chance he would be stupid enough to just meander into a trap, but I had to think of something.

“What kind of deal?” I said, backing up a couple of steps.

Dare mumbled something to Beryl. I didn’t like them conspiring together.

“I have some information you’re going to want to see. In turn, I’d like you to pledge your allegiance to me. I’d like to . . .” He considered his words, then said, “Well, I’d like to adopt you, in a way. Be your symbolic father.”

I laughed. “Father? Why in God’s name would I want that?”

“Let’s be honest—you won’t. But you’ll be willing to make a compromise to get your hands on what I’ve got.”

“I doubt that. Go on, though. Show me.”

Dare pointed at a briefcase Beryl held. “It’s a very important piece of documentation. Can Beryl walk it over to you? He’s unarmed. To prove we’re on the level, he’ll even walk into one of your remaining binding triangles. Feel free to bind him at any time.”

I hesitated. It felt like I was the one walking into a trap—not this Beryl guy.

Dare sighed dramatically. “If I wanted you dead, I could’ve shot you when I walked in the door.”

Beryl walked farther into the bar, holding up one hand in surrender.

It might shock the hell out of me, but I could bind him without the caduceus. And seeing how my life might be in danger, I had no qualms about electrocution.

“Say what you’re going to say.”

“No need to be snippy, Miss Bell,” Dare said, then sighed his fake sigh. “So, where to begin? Shall I start with the first time your parents tried to conduct a conception ritual and how miserably that failed? Or are you already familiar with the story of your brother?”

My heart stopped.

“Ah, not aware of Victor Duval?” Beryl came closer, stepping into the second binding triangle before me, as Dare continued to talk. “Victor was damaged goods, apparently. A little screwy in the head. Liked to dissect the neighbors’ cats.”

I flinched. This couldn’t be true. This was bullshit. I would’ve heard whisperings about this when I was still living with my parents. All the talk shows and exposés and books written about them—someone would’ve uncovered it . . . right?

“Rather handsome boy,” Dare called from the door. “Dark-headed, like you. No silver halo, though. Not at all magically gifted, which meant he was of no use to your parents.”

My gaze flicked to Beryl, who was stepping closer to the triangle right in front of me.

“Victor was eight when your folks finally gave up their dreams and drowned the poor child. I do believe that was the first time they killed.”

Shock rooted me to the floor.

“Members of their order thought it was an accident. Your mother made an impassioned speech in front of the congregation, asking them to never speak his name again, as it only caused her grief. Quite theatrical. They never claimed the body when local authorities found it. She even destroyed the paper trail proving he ever existed—birth certificate and all. The media would’ve pounced on that juicy tidbit, don’t you think?”

It couldn’t be true. Could it? Why was he telling me this?

“But your mother missed a couple of details. Would you like to see a photo of your brother when he was a boy?” Dare asked.

My stomach tightened.

Beryl stepped into the binding triangle. “That’s far enough,” I said. He halted and held his briefcase flat on one palm, clicking open the locks.

“Beryl,” Dare said, “can you please give Miss Bell what we discussed?”