“Only one apiece, that we’ve seen.” I scooted forward until I sat on the edge of the couch, excited and relieved to finally tell them what we’d come up with. “Think about it. When Sabine tried to sell me and Emma to—”

“Really? We’re on that again?” the mara snapped. “You know I was under the influence of a hellion of envy. As were you. We both did some pretty stupid shit because of Invidia.”

“Yeah, but Kaylee didn’t try to sell anyone to a demon,” Tod pointed out.

“Forgiven and forgotten, remember?” Nash aimed an irritated glance at his brother.

I remembered forgiving Sabine, but I’d never said I could forget.... “Just listen. When we were all with Avari and Invidia in the Netherworld, how did we get away?”

Sabine shrugged. “I crossed over with Nash.” Because male bean sidhes don’t wail, they can’t cross to and from the Netherworld on their own. “Tod took Em, then came back for you.”

Like his brother, Tod was a male bean  sidhe, but he could cross freely by virtue of his reaper abilities, most of which didn’t work in the Netherworld, much like my own undead skills. Unfortunately.

“Yes, but how did we get that chance?” I waved one hand in a circular motion, encouraging them to follow that thought through to the conclusion.

Nash’s brows rose with the realization. “Avari attacked Invidia.”

“Why?” Tod said, and his brother—my ex—frowned, trying to remember. He’d been in a lot of pain at the time, and I’m sure the memory was fuzzy.

“Because he wanted what she had,” the mara said.

“Exactly.” Sabine was smart—I had to give her that. “Avari is a hellion of greed. The only weakness I’ve ever seen him display is an obsession with having everything. He wants his toys and Invidia’s. And Belphegore’s. And any others on the playground.”

Em set her nearly empty glass on the coffee table. “So we’re going to play them against one another? How?”

Tod frowned, and his voice deepened. This was the part he didn’t like. “By dangling the same bait in front of all three of them at once.”

“What bait?” Em asked, but I could tell by her tone that she was already catching on.

“Us.” I glanced around the room. “Some of us, anyway. Including Sophie and Luca, if we need them and they’re willing.” And we probably would need them. Avari had already gone after them both. “We’re the bait.”

Chapter Two

“We’re the bait? And you’re okay with this?” Nash stared across the room at his brother, challenge swirling in the greens and browns of his eyes—a bean sidhe’s emotions could be read in the colors twisting in their irises, at least by fellowbean sidhes.

“Hell no, I’m not okay with it. It’s dangerous, and risky, and perilous, and also profoundly unsafe. But I have yet to come up with a better idea, so...” Tod gestured to me, reluctantly yielding the floor, but Em snatched it before I could speak.

“We’re the bait? So we’re going to be dangled? How are we going to be dangled?”

“Okay, first of all, no one has to do this.” I stood and Tod scooted over so I could sit on the arm of the couch, from where I could see everyone in the room. “You’re all completely free to just...not participate. But obviously, I can’t promise that staying out of this will keep you safe. We weren’t dangling anything in front of anyone the last time Avari and his hellion posse set their sights on us. Not on purpose, anyway. Which is why I’m pretty sure it’ll be easy to get their attention. The hard part will be keeping them from seeing the setup. So, raise your hand if you want to be a part of this, then I’ll—”

“I’m in.” Nash didn’t bother to raise his hand.

“Just like that?” Em frowned at him.

He nodded. “No one wants to see that bastard pay more than I do.”

“I’m fully prepared to debate that statement with you, but there’s really no point.” I glanced around the room again. “I’m in, obviously, as is Tod.” He nodded to confirm, and a single pale curl fell over his forehead. “What about you two?”

“You couldn’t keep me out of this if you tried,” Sabine said. “This place is dull when there’s no evil afoot.”

“When is that, exactly?” Tod gave her a sardonic grin, and Sabine returned it.

“Em?” I wasn’t yet familiar enough with her new face to tell what she was thinking. “You totally don’t have to do this.”

“No.” She drained the last of her whiskey and soda, made a sour face, then set the glass down a little too hard on the coffee table. “I’m in. Just tell me what to do.”

“Yeah. What kind of dangling are we talking about?” Nash said. “Carrot in front of a donkey? Or raw meat over a pit of lions?”

“Probably not the carrot.” Sabine shrugged. “Hellions strike me more as carnivores.”

I’d rarely heard a truer statement. As far as I could tell, hellions lived only to consume humanity—whichever parts of us they could get. Our emotions. Our blood. Our flesh. And, rumor had it, any other bodily fluids on hand.

“Since they can’t cross into the human world, with a few obvious exceptions—” like the recent invasion of hellions wearing the souls and forms of the dead “—we’re only going to be dangling our emotions.”