Then again, he might be feeling something else. The other day, he’d reminded me that I didn’t need him anymore. He’d said it as a challenge, but what if he was second-guessing his role in this? If Dagon got out of our trap, I’d come back if he killed me. But if Ian died . . . he wouldn’t only lose his life. He’d also lose his soul.

The thought filled me with the kind of sickening dread I hadn’t felt since I was human. It wasn’t worth the risk. “Dagon should feel his tether to Silver returning soon, but you still have time to leave,” I said. “In fact, you should go. You’ve already done more than enough. Let me take it from here.”

He turned around and laughed. “And miss Dagon’s expression when we trap him in those mirrors? Not a chance.”

I stared at him, suddenly terrified I’d never see him again if he stayed. “Ian, really, you should go—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “Stop. Your concern is touching, but if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. Now, get Silver in position. We don’t know how quick Dagon will be.”

Arguments and outright pleas trembled on my lips, but I forced them back. Ian might be far younger than me, but at two hundred fifty plus, he was more than old enough to know his own mind. If I kept going on about my fears, I’d rattle us both into being less than our fighting best. We couldn’t afford that. Tonight was too dangerous as it was.

That’s why I nodded, smiling before kissing the finger still pressed to my lips. “Try not to tire yourself out, then,” I said in as careless a voice as I could manage. “I have plans to celebrate Dagon’s death that involve lots of your stamina.”

He laughed again. “Same to you, little Guardian.”

Then he kissed me, hard, fierce, and astonishingly passionate considering our circumstances. When he stopped, my mouth wasn’t the only part of me that throbbed. His slow smirk said he knew how he’d affected me, too.

Not to be outdone, I grabbed his cock, squeezing until his eyes lit up with green. “Now I won’t be the only one impatient for our victory celebration,” I taunted before letting go and leaving to take care of Silver.

His low laugh promised sweet revenge later. My spirits lifted, shoving down my earlier fears. We would win tonight and both of us would survive to celebrate it. We had to.

Once I had Silver safely concealed behind a small, swinging door the Simargl could also use to exit, if need be, I took my position behind another blind door on the opposite side of the room. Ian came in and flew up to his spot, concealed above a sheet of painted plywood in the ceiling. Once we were safely out of view of the mirrors, I pushed the lever on the pulley system we’d set up. The drapes rose, exposing the mirrors. Now, we waited.

An hour ticked by. Then two. Then three. By the fourth, I was tempted to leave my position to stretch my legs, but I didn’t. We’d wait until after dawn if need be. Once the sun was up, the chances of Dagon appearing dropped dramatically. But night . . . night was his playtime.

A little past 1 a.m., I heard a whoosh as if a gust of wind had blown into the fun house. It was followed by a wave of power and the sulfur smell all demons had. I clamped down on my aura, squelching all hints of my supernatural energy. At the same time, I readied myself to let my power burst free. Dagon hadn’t frozen time yet, but he would. It was his favorite trick.

Footsteps sounded, then I heard, “Fun house, eh? ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?’” in a singsong voice.

Dagon’s voice. Yes! I’d been worried that he’d send someone else out of an abundance of caution. He hadn’t, so his arrogance was everything I’d hoped. We’d set up more mirrors at the front of the funhouse, some broken, some not, but all unspelled. I wanted him to think nothing of the mirrors in this room when he finally reached it.

“Where’s my little fluffy money bag?” Dagon was still using that singsong voice, only it sounded closer now. My hands tightened, one on the remote drapery switch I’d been holding this entire time, the other on the bone knife. “I know you’re in here. Come out, come out, wherever you are . . .”

Silver’s whine was a thin, soft sound filled with fear. Dagon’s footsteps quickened. “There you are,” he said, all merriment gone from his voice. His footsteps were now right outside the room. Silver whined again, sounding desperate.

“Come here, you little—” Dagon began.

Magic flooded the room, drenching me with its power. Dagon let out a snarl that quickly turned into a howl. Ian told me the mirror spell came in two modes: silent and sound. No contest as to which one I’d wanted. I wouldn’t have even needed the full-body splash of magic to know the trap had been sprung. Not with Dagon’s howl turning into a scream of pure rage.

Listening to it felt better than therapy. I’d waited over four and a half thousand years for Dagon to pay for everything he’d done. Today, his bill finally came due.

I pressed the button on the remote control, hearing fabric swish as the counter-weight system we’d set up dragged the drapes back up to re-cover the mirrors. I came out of my hiding spot to see Ian already diving down from his ceiling perch. He rammed his bone knife into Dagon’s left eye with such force, the tip of his blade came out the back of Dagon’s skull.

I didn’t pause to savor Dagon’s new scream. I slammed my bone knife into his other eye, putting all my rage, guilt, and grief into the blow. My hand went all the way through Dagon’s skull and into the mirror behind him. It shattered as the double blow sealed Dagon’s fate. His eye sockets turned into blackened, smoking holes that burned my arm from its close contact. I didn’t care. His final, enraged scream was drowned out by the rest of the mirrors exploding as the spell ended with his death.

Shards of glass ripped through the room, slicing into me from head to toe. I didn’t feel the pain. I was too filled with relief as I watched Dagon’s body start to shrink and deflate, almost like when vampires died and their bodies aged back to their actual years. By the time Ian yanked my arm from Dagon’s skull to swing me around in joyous circle, Dagon’s body resembled a man-sized piece of beef jerky.

“Break my back and baste my balls, we did it!”

Ian’s shout coincided with my burst of laughter, as if my happiness was too great for my body to contain. Finally, it was over! All the pain, the planning, the thousands of years of waiting while fighting despair thinking Dagon might never be brought to justice . . . finished. Maybe now, at last, all of Dagon’s victims could rest in peace.

I don’t know if Ian kissed me or if I yanked his head down to mine. Either way, our mouths were pressed together with all the jubilance of our combined victory. Dagon’s victims weren’t just avenged; Ian was also free, his soul his own again. I was happier than I’d ever been.

Then a voice hit me like a thousand icicles suddenly shoved through my veins. “This is so sweet, if I had a heart, I’d cry.”

Ian shoved me back, putting himself between me and the owner of that voice that should not, could not be there.

“Hello,” Dagon purred. “Miss me?”

Chapter 38

Dagon winced when he saw the corpse. “I told Rani to watch out for a trap, but he didn’t think either of you were smart enough to set up anything he couldn’t get out of.”