She laughed richly. “Our job is to make this world more like our home, a little more habitable for our master.”

I shook my head in confusion. “Your master? Sammael?”

Her red lips curled into a smile. “No, Gabriel. The Morningstar.”

“Morningstar,” I spat. “Morningstar—you mean Lucifer. The Morningstar.”

“Correct.” When I didn’t respond, she gazed at me curiously, as if she were seeing right through my skin to examine my human soul. “I almost don’t want to let Sammael destroy you. Perhaps I should let the Morningstar pick you apart and see how they made you. He’d love to get his claws on you, Gabriel, and I’d personally love to see your insides. But you are too dangerous to be allowed to exist.”

I lifted my chin and swallowed. “So you’re going to release Sammael now?”

She raised a finger. “Not yet. First you will make me whole.”

“And how is that?” I watched her carefully.

“Patience, archangel,” she cooed. She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed as if in concentration. A moment later, Bastian returned to the cellar, flanked by Kelaeno and Merodach, leading me to deduce that Lilith had somehow called them with her mind. Perhaps she was linked telepathically with her demonic, monstrous offspring. She lifted a phantom hand and pointed at the items near the sarcophagus. “Prepare the ritual.”

Kelaeno skimmed over the open pages in the book as Bastian collected the clay bowl and silver dagger. Merodach, dark and silent, stood by the wall as he observed the activity. Bastian stepped up to me and raised the dagger. With him standing close to me, I could feel the power in the dagger humming. It was a relic bound to one of the Fallen, a demonic relic.

I stared into his toxic blue eyes. “How did you get that?”

“The Blade of Belial,” he said evenly. “You don’t want to know what I had to do to get this.”

“You need my blood now, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry that this will hurt. Your death tonight will not be quick or painless.” He pressed the dagger to my arm.

“Don’t even pretend like you’re sorry,” I snarled. “You’ve been working toward this for centuries.”

“Over a thousand years,” he corrected. “And don’t make the mistake of believing that you are the only one who has made sacrifices. I’ve given up everything for this.”

I laughed bitterly. “You are whining about what you’ve had to give up while you’re trying to destroy the world? How’s that working out for you?”

He glared at me and sliced the dagger deeply into my skin, cutting ligaments with the flesh. I gasped and buckled at the pain, but the look in his eyes told me my words had stung him just as much as his blade had stung me. He pressed the bowl against my skin and let my blood fill it. I tried not to watch, since seeing my own blood flow made me dizzy and sick to my stomach. My wound healed and ceased to bleed in only a few seconds. Bastian withdrew without a word and moved away from me. Kelaeno lifted the box off the table and opened the lid. Bastian reached in and removed a necklace—a heavy, clear gemstone set into a gold pendant hanging from a metal wire strung with smaller jewels and precious stones. I recognized it instantly. The Constantina necklace, the relic Zane had died for and failed to protect.

Bastian set the necklace carefully into the bowl of my blood, completely submerging it. Kelaeno began to chant something in an ancient language, reading from the book. I listened carefully, digging deep into my memory for the translation, but I couldn’t remember the language. I looked to Lilith, who stood still and entranced, her chin tilted up and her eyes closed, as if the words had power over her. Once Kelaeno’s chant ended, Lilith opened her eyes and removed the necklace tentatively from the bowl. My blood dripped off the pendant and drenched the front of her white dress as she fastened the necklace around her neck. Then my blood seemed to move in ways gravity shouldn’t have allowed: It spread in every direction, red tracing the veins and arteries beneath Lilith’s skin and sinking through until it vanished and no blood remained anywhere to be seen.

And then light. I cried out and squeezed my eyes shut, turning my face away from the blinding flash. I could hear screams, hollow and distant as if the sounds played through an old television, screams that echoed untold millennia of torment and despair wrought by the Demon Queen. Unable to cover my ears with my hands, I pressed my cheek into my chained arm, desperate to drown out the horrible cries of terror and agony.

When the light and screams dissipated, I slit my eyes open to see what had happened. I took in a sharp, deep breath at the sight before me.

Lilith was whole. Her body was no longer a phantom’s. She was as solid and real as I was. The Constantina necklace had become a glossy black. She stepped close to me, peering into my face. The scent of dirt and buried bones that came from her made me want to gag. She lifted a hand and traced a crescent with the back of her index finger down my cheek and jaw, the smoothness of her nail sending shivers through my spine. Then her nail traced the same line back up my cheek with the sharp tip and cut through my skin. I gritted my teeth at the sting and felt the warmth of a crescent-shaped line of blood welling on my face.

“That is so much better,” Lilith sighed, her voice now full. “I’d love to chat more with you, Gabriel, maybe even rip a few of your fingers off, but I am too full of anticipation. Now it is time to wake my beloved, and then we will have fun with you. Don’t worry. Your time will come.”