“Shit,” he muttered. “That’s new. Sorry. Give me a sec.”

He closed his eyes, concentrating on squelching the fire, but I pulled him back into the kiss whispering, “Don’t.”

Licks of fire shot through me, from the heat of his hands, the heat of his skin—delicious pulses of flame. It wasn’t long before I was tugging his shirt up, hands seeking bare skin, scorching hot skin and—

A throat cleared behind us. I broke away and caught my breath.

“Er, Troy,” I said. “Sorry. Could we … get a few more minutes?”

Adam glanced over his shoulder. “Please. I promise, her body is well guarded.”

“So I see,” Troy said drily.

Which wasn’t Troy’s style at all. My gaze shot to his eyes. Bright green eyes.

“Bal—” I started as I disentangled from Adam.

Then I stopped. The tone hadn’t sounded like Balaam’s. And the expression fixed on me—annoyance mingled with displeasure—wasn’t Balaam’s either.

“I’m not your grandsire, girl,” he said as Adam moved between us. “And you don’t need to protect her from me, Adam. I have no love for Balaam, but I have no issue with the girl.” A hard look at me. “Though I would prefer not to find her in your embrace. May I have a moment with my son?”

Silence as we figured out what he meant … and who he was.

“Asmondai,” Adam said, in a tone more suited to the inconvenient appearance of a drunken uncle than the father he’d never met.

“I’m sorry.” The lord demon’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Is this a bad time?”

“Any time would be a bad time, actually. Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.”

“I am not selling—”

“So you popped by to say hi? Make my acquaintance? I’ve got a dad, thanks. You’re just the jerk who knocked up my mom and left her to figure out what to do with a son who likes setting things on fire.”

When a demon lord deigns to visit his offspring, this is probably not the reception he usually gets. Asmondai was speechless for a second, then said, slowly, “I understand that you’re angry.”

“No, I’m not. Hint?” Adam lifted his hands. “Not even warm.” He was right. When he rested his hand on my leg, it was cool.

“What if I’ve come to help you?” Asmondai asked.

“Oh, I’m sure you have. Just like Balaam came to help Savannah. Offer her power, glory, queen of the universe, if she helps him in return. She refused. Now she’s under lock and key in this place, with a Nast bounty on her head. Because Balaam tried to ‘help’ her. So how about we skip that stage and go straight to no. Not interested. Piss off.”

“Piss off?” Asmondai lifted one brow. “You may have inherited my talent for politics, but you’ve not yet mastered the art of rhetoric, have you?”

“I’m sure I’m a huge disappointment, so why don’t you just write me off and go.”

“I have no intention of writing you off, Adam. Of all my children, I’ve chosen you because you’re different. You’re—”

“Special?” Adam said. Now I felt heat flare through his hand.

“Does that sound familiar, Savannah?”

“Pretty much exactly what Balaam said to me,” I said. “He chose me—a mere granddaughter—because I’m special, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m connected to the inter-racial council, the Nast Cabal, the Cortez Cabal …”

“I can’t claim quite that many connections,” Adam said. “But I’m the only child of yours who’s actually on the front line of this battle.”

Asmondai said, “But how did you get on the front line, Adam? When you were her age”—he waved at me—“you were a college dropout. Living at home. Taking the easiest jobs you could find, just enough to pay for your toys. You were an inter-racial council delegate because of Robert Vasic, and the only reason you showed up at meetings was because occasionally they led to an adventure. Now you’re a key delegate on that council. You’re a renowned private investigator. You’re an expert on demons and supernatural lore. And you’re a valuable frontline warrior, an Exustio half-demon who has fully mastered his powers. You’ve earned your place.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t care about my approval. I understand. But I’m here to help you because we’re on the same side.”

“No, we’re not. You have your own agenda. It may overlap with ours, but that doesn’t mean you’re on our side.”

“You are indeed growing into your birthright, my son. Agreed, then. But our agendas do overlap, and to that end, I’m bringing you information, no strings attached. You want to know what these people are doing with that virus, do you not?”

Adam straightened.

The lord demon smiled. “Good. Then I will tell you.”

Troy was not impressed when he finally got his body back. He took anti-possession brews—you can’t have a demon taking over a CEO’s bodyguard—but those didn’t help against a lord. He muttered about Adam’s relatives and mine, popping up all over the place, causing trouble. Trying to make light of what was, as we all knew, a very serious situation. No supernatural really worries about being possessed by a lord demon because the only time they take human form is to procreate. They don’t answer our summons, and they sure as hell don’t drop in to say hello.

Most supernaturals knew better than to try to contact a lord demon to ask for a favor. A friend of mine lost the use of her legs summoning Asmondai—and still never actually met the guy. But now they were taking human form to ask us for favors. That told us just how desperate the situation had become.

Benicio was meeting us in the boardroom. As we hurried there, we bumped into Elena and Clay, intently heading someplace of their own. They’d been recalled with Lucas and Adam, pending more news on Larsen Dahl.

I asked if they’d seen Hope.

“She’s awake and recuperating,” Elena said. “Karl wants to eat, so we’re hunting down breakfast. We’ll join you in the boardroom. Benicio’s still working on getting that message translated. Hope may have more information to add from her vision.”