The table was jam-packed with people, too. Residuals—ghosts who weren’t really there, just replaying on a loop. At least twenty adults, talking and bickering and laughing, a dozen kids racing around, a dog following them, barking.

“Thanksgiving,” she murmured.

“Torture, that’s what it is,” a voice rumbled.

“Plenty of people would agree with you.” Eve stepped forward and pointed to a teen, his face contorted with pained boredom as an elderly aunt peppered him with questions. “I’m sure he would.”

“I’m glad you are amused,” the voice replied. “Have the Fates forgotten that the torture of war criminals is a serious offense?”

“I’m pretty sure the infliction of Thanksgiving isn’t covered under the Geneva convention.”

She peered around. The demon was nowhere to be seen. Not surprising, really. On these planes, they rarely took form. But Raim was here. She could feel the hot wind of his presence rushing past.

“The noise never stops,” Raim said. “They talk and talk and talk. Except when they’re shouting. Or shrieking. Or …” His voice quivered, as if he was shuddering. “Laughing.”

“Hey, be glad you didn’t get the dimensional holding cell down the block. It’s a circus. With mimes.” She took another step. “Do you know who I am?”

“Eve, Daughter of Balaam. So your father finally swayed you to his side?”

“Nope, I’m still on my side, as usual.”

A soft chuckle, cut short as he said, “If you’ve come to find my liege, I’ll tell you what I told your father’s minions. I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do. And you’re going to tell us.”

“Or what? You’ll make the dog bark louder?”

“No. If you tell us, and we find Lucifer, we’ll help you get out of here.”

“A prison break? How charming. Will you dig the tunnel? Or is that the Nast’s job.”

“It’s a joint effort. We can’t break you out, obviously. But if you tell us where to find Lucifer, Kristof will present and defend your case, free of any chits or charges. I’ll speak on your behalf, make up some story about how you helped me on a previous case blah-blah. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s better than anything else you’ll get.”

“And in return, I’ll hand over my liege lord?” He laughed. “Not likely, mortal.”

“Kristof and I only want to speak to him. That will go in the contract. We’ll tell no one else where he is. We’ve come to you and put forward a case that made you decide this meeting was in your liege’s best interests, so you agreed, under very strict conditions. You can tell him that we tortured you into confessing.”

It took a little more convincing, but Raim was reasonable. He’d help as long as they provided an ironclad contract, which Kristof already had prepared. A few quick amendments, a blood oath, and they were off, with Lucifer’s whereabouts in hand.

They left Trsiel behind. That wasn’t the plan—at least, not the part he knew about. He’d be furious, but it was the right thing to do. Eve had asked him to do enough already. If there was fallout from this, it would land squarely on her shoulders.

Getting to Lucifer was easier than Eve expected. He wasn’t surrounded by his legions. He wasn’t even surrounded by his inner court. That made sense, she supposed—it was hard to hide an army, and even the inner court would expect all their attendants to come along. There was none of that. Just Lucifer, alone in the mountains.

“Mount Nebo,” Kristof said as they finished climbing from their teleport drop-off. “Fitting, I suppose.”

“Is it?”

“From the stories of Moses. The Israelites were still wandering and ran out of water. God told Moses to speak to a rock. In frustration, Moses struck it instead and was, as punishment, forbidden to enter the Promised Land. He could only glimpse it from the top of Mount Nebo.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

“Lucifer would doubtless agree. The fallen angel. Cast out when he challenged God’s will.”

“Do you believe that?” Eve asked.

Kristof shrugged and wiped dirt from his hands. “I believe most legends have some basis in fact.”

At the top of the mountain, they found an excavated church. If she crossed over to the other side of the veil, she was sure it would be filled with tourists. But on their side it was still and empty, the wind whispering past, bringing a sprinkle of sand with each gust.

They walked inside and found a lone figure hunkered down, staring into a mosaic-lined pool of water.

“Huh,” Eve said as they approached. “You know what’s a really good way to fight the apocalypse? Meditate.”

The figure rose and turned, and Eve’s breath caught. From the back, she’d thought it was a demon taking human form, as they often did. But then she saw his face, the faint glow of his skin and his eyes.

An angel, she thought. He really is an angel.

An angel with a ruined face. That’s what made her breath catch. Lucifer’s skin was pitted and scarred, some of them white with age, others angry red. Only the skin around his eyes was untouched.

“Lucifer,” she murmured.

He smiled and it was a strange smile, not what she’d expect from either angel or demon. There was no anger in it. No outrage. No arrogance. And that’s what really threw her off balance. All lord demons were arrogant, and the same could be said for most angels.

She stood there, gripping her sword, her rehearsed speech flying from her mind.

“She needs you,” Eve blurted at last.

“I know.”

“Hope, I mean. Your daughter. She—”

“I know.”

He glanced back toward the pool. Kristof took a step closer and nodded. Eve followed and saw what he did—that it was a scrying pool, and in its depths was Hope, in a wheelchair, bound and pregnant.

Eve spun on Lucifer. “And you’re just watching? Your daughter—and your granddaughter—are being threatened. Threatened with death if you don’t come, and you sit on your mountain and watch?”

“Yes.”

“You—”

“What else would you have me do, Eve?” Lucifer said. “Go down there and give Gilles de Rais what he wants? Do you even know what he wants from me?”