Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why had my father tasked me with tracking down the other resurrected people when all along, Dagon had had a virtual map to their locations? Hadn’t my father known that? Or, in his usual, apathetic way, had he not cared that Dagon had a huge advantage while I’d had nothing except an endless supply of false Internet leads to comb through?

“Now, he’s the only one left,” Dagon said, with a glance at Ian that made me hurl the strongest spell I knew at the walls confining me. They glowed amber from top to bottom, the circle flaring into fire before I dropped to my knees from the agony that shot through me.

Third time wasn’t the charm.

“Keep it up,” Dagon said in an approving tone. “Every time you touch or use magic on those walls, you trigger their defense mechanism. I am older than the creation of the human race and I’ve had over a month to plan my revenge, so I assure you, I thought of everything. Don’t feel like a failure,” he added mockingly. “You came closer to killing me than anyone ever has. I actually felt afraid back at that theme park several weeks ago.” Then his voice turned caressing. “Then, you and Ian lured me into a trap by leaving just enough traces of my tracking spell in the Simargl for me to follow. Now, I trapped you by using that delicious spell inside Ian to lure you both to Ereshki after she contacted you. Fitting, don’t you think?”

I did not, but I did glance at Ereshki long enough to catch her taunting smile. “At last, you die, girl.”

She’d called me Ariel in her last communication. Now, I was “girl”—the only name Dagon and my other captors had given me.

“Oh, she doesn’t die yet,” Dagon said with obvious relish. “A quick death is too easy. No, she took what I loved from me—my power—so I’m going to take what she loves from her, and all she’ll be able to do is watch and scream.”

Ereshki’s clear brown eyes gleamed with malevolent glee as she glanced at Ian. “How will you kill him?”

Dagon leaned closer as if sharing a secret, but his gaze was all for me as he said, “You’ll see.”

Ian groaned, yanking my attention back to him. He rolled over, shielding his eyes as if seeing something too bright to look at. Then, he bolted to his feet, bone knife at the ready in one hand while his other flung a tactile spell at the circle entrapping him. It glowed, illuminating a circumference far wider than mine, before pain slammed into me and my own circle glowed in response. The sudden, merciless slice of pain once again dropped me to my knees, then my gasp became a choking sound as blood poured from my mouth.

Dagon’s laugh rang in my ears, covering whatever Ian said. I only caught the tail end of “. . . rip your entrails out and give them away as party favors!” before another bellyful of blood spraying from my mouth claimed all my attention. It felt like Dagon had teleported a chainsaw inside of me.

“Did I forget to mention the other aspect of the circles?” Dagon said with glee. “Touch or magic triggers their defenses, but only to your circle, girl! It’s possible Ian could free himself, if he casts a powerful-enough spell. But that will kill you, and your father isn’t available to resurrect you anymore.” Dagon wagged his finger at me. “Which will it be? Will you watch him die? Or will you watch as he murders you to free himself? Either way, you suffer before your end, so I win.”

Ian’s gaze swung to me, an incredulous form of rage in his expression. “Tell me this arsehole is lying, and you didn’t forget to tell me you’re no longer immortal!”

I spat the last mouthful of blood out before answering. “Knew there was something I left out,” I said with a terrible imitation of a laugh. Then, agony of a different sort gripped me as I stared into Ian’s eyes. “If you can save yourself, do it. He’s not letting me live no matter what happens to you.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Dagon replied cheerily. “And if Ian breaks free from that circle, he’ll be lucky to have enough energy left to run from us, so forget about him avenging you.”

Ian gave him a look of such hatred that my blood chilled. It was as if he’d channeled all the rage from everyone slain before their time and lasered it at Dagon. The demon’s smirk actually fell beneath the silent, seething onslaught. Then, he caught himself, and his arrogant smile returned.

“Or, I’ll watch you die now, boy. That’ll be fun, too.”

With that, two humps swelled beneath the garbage that layered the bottom of Ian’s circle. Ian jumped back, pulling out more weapons. In the moments it took the forms to burst free from the trash covering them, Ian had already fired several rounds into both of the growing humps.

He’d hit his marks, but no blood spattered the creatures that rose up from the trash piles. They grew impossibly fast, going from the size of dogs to horses in the scant time it took Ian to holster his guns and hurl silver knives into their heads next. The metal pierced skulls that looked leonine, if lions also had horns, but then the knives fell out without any visible damage to the creatures. Feathers slithered over their torsos, skipping their hairless, lionlike heads and humanoid hands and arms. Then two wings unfurled from their backs.

I stared in disbelief. These creatures had been carved into stone murals when I was a child, but I hadn’t known they were real. Dagon saw my reaction and laughed.

“You do recognize them! Anzus were considered demons to ancient Sumerians, but what else do you expect primitive humans to call lesser divinities? They’re also rarer than Simargls, so you’ll appreciate the effort it took me to bring them here. Cost me two souls a piece.”

One of the Anzus reared up and swiped at Ian with its huge, claw-tipped, humanoid hand. Ian leapt back, hitting the walls of his circle. The circle’s defense mechanism slammed into me with the force of a car crash. Breath exploded out of me and my bones instantly broke. I staggered, avoiding touching the sides of my own far smaller circle because I didn’t want to be hit with another blast of defensive magic, as Dagon called it.

Ian gave a worried look in my direction. The other Anzu seized on the distraction and flew at him faster than he could avoid. Claws ripped through everything except Ian’s bullet-proof vest. Ian’s blood spattered the walls of his circle. I felt new inner slashes from even that slight contact. Then, Ian threw the creature aside. It slammed into the circle’s barrier, setting off another chainsaw-rampage sensation inside of me.

All I saw was blood for a few agonizing moments. It spurted from my eyes, mouth, and nose, forced out from the internal damage I could neither defend against nor protect myself from. When it stopped, I was on the floor, dangerously close to the edge of my own circle. Ian screamed my name. I looked up to see him stab his demon bone trident through one of the Anzu’s eyes with absolutely no effect.

“Destroy the head,” I croaked, hoping the old myths were true.

Ian flew up to avoid the second Anzu’s attack, leaving his trident in the first one. The Anzu ripped it free, then broke the trident under a massive back paw.

Ian torpedoed back down, landing on the Anzu’s back hard enough to snap the spine of any other creature. The Anzu didn’t even lose its balance. It began flying around the circle, bucking wildly, striking the walls and the other Anzu in its rage to get Ian off its back. Between bursts of agony from the repeated contact with the circle’s walls, I saw Ian hold on . . . and slam his longest, widest knife through the Anzu’s skull.