She opened her mouth to whisper his name, but his voice, clear as a bell, filled her head.

Don’t speak, darling. I’m going to get you out of here. Can you walk?

His voice was full of emotion she hadn’t dared hope for. However he’d gotten here, whatever it meant, the relief Ariane felt at his presence was overwhelming. It was then that she understood the sound of his voice as she’d blacked out at Vlad’s. He’d used the blood bond between them to touch her thoughts… to let her know he was coming.

I think so.

She crawled to the big, beautiful cat and slid her fingers into the soft black fur, feeling the heart slowly beating beneath, the slow, even breaths. Then the fur beneath her hands became fabric and it was just Damien, looking slightly rumpled and blessedly real.

“You came,” she whispered.

He held a finger to his lips with a hint of the wicked smile she’d fallen in love with.

Not here, kitten. We won’t be alone for long, and we’ll need more than just you and me to put up a fight. Lucan’s checking on the rest.

Ariane found it impossible to take her hands away from the place on Damien’s chest where she could feel his beating heart. What are you doing here? How did you know?

Damien pulled away, extracting a small, tied roll of fabric from the inside pocket of his coat. When he unrolled it, a set of picks was revealed, neatly organized. He eyed the lock on the outside of the cage, selected two of the picks, and got to work, his hands sure.

We’re lucky. These aren’t exactly modern. I knew because Lucan found me. And he knew because he got some sort of mental warning from Sammael. You’ve been had, kitten. Sariel never left here. He had the lot of you delivered to him on a silver platter instead. Did you know that Lucan was the demon’s keeper for over a thousand years? No wonder he’s so bloody miserable to deal with.

Damien’s chatter inside her head, warm and seemingly unconcerned, allowed Ariane to relax enough to stand and get her bearings. Her weapons had been taken, but she seemed little worse for wear. She didn’t want to know how she’d been kept unconscious for so long. She imagined Sariel was much further gone and more deeply involved with Chaos than even Sam had imagined.

Is Sam down here? Is everyone else alive?

Damien glanced up at her, and she saw immediately that the light tone of his conversation had been a ruse. The worry and care in his eyes took her breath away.

I honestly don’t know. The only one I gave a damn about was you.

The lock opened with a soft click, and Ariane saw only a blur of movement before she was in Damien’s arms, gathered so tightly against him she could hardly breathe. He pressed his face into her hair, his breathing harsh. And then he did speak, whispering against her ear.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

She melted into him, savoring the feel of him, solid and strong. All of her doubts about his feelings evaporated with a simple touch. Whether or not he ever said the words, his actions told her all she needed to know.

“I would have found a way back to you,” she whispered.

His laugh was a single, ragged breath. “All the same, I’d rather be here to make sure of it.” He moved to touch his forehead to hers, a gentle, tender gesture that surprised her.

“I love you,” he said.

Words failed her. All she could manage for a response was to press her lips against his, trying to tell him everything she wanted to say without words. His arms came around her back, crushing her to him briefly before he stepped back, though he caught her hand in his tightly.

Let’s go find the others.

They stepped out into a low-ceilinged corridor constructed of large, weathered blocks of stone. The air was cool and bone-dry, the air of the desert. Ariane could see numerous cells just like her own set along one side of the wall. How many had the ancients kept down here to feed their brother’s hunger? All this time, she and the others had lived above this dungeon, completely unaware of what their dynasty was doing… and of what they truly were.

Lucan walked toward them, his wings visible, their tips nearly touching the floor. His voice echoed loudly in Ariane’s mind.

I see the drugs have worn off. Good. The others have not all fared as well.

He beckoned to Damien, who quickly set to work unlocking each cell. In the silence of the corridor, Ariane began to have the oddest sensation of being watched, a feeling that had the hair at the back of her neck prickling. But each time she turned, there was nothing. Though Damien’s efforts barely made a sound, they began to sound incredibly loud to her.

In each cell slumped one of the leaders of the dynasties: Vlad, Lily, Arsinöe, and finally Mormo, whose skin was almost translucent, her breath so faint it was easy to miss altogether. She hadn’t recovered from the divination. Ariane wondered whether they had even bothered to drug her. None of the attendants had been taken, nor had Ty. Ariane hoped they hadn’t been killed.

Damien avoided the unconscious Arsinöe, instead trying to rouse first Vlad, then Lily. Of the two, only Lily tried to get to her feet, but she couldn’t seem to get her legs under her well enough. Vlad simply looked at all of them blearily, a strange haze fogging his eyes.

Damien bared his teeth. “They’ve been given enough of whatever this was to take down an army of vampires,” he hissed. He looked at Ariane. “Didn’t they inject you with it as well?”

“She carries Sammael’s blood in its purest form,” Lucan said quietly. “It will not affect her the same way it does the others.”

“You were angels,” Ariane murmured, her eyes skimming the beauty of Lucan’s wings. “How can that be possible?”

Lucan surprised her with a small, sad smile that managed to transform his face into one of impossible beauty. “It simply is. We are like the vampire in some ways, and those we sire are barely different at all… but my brothers and I are endless. As is our curse, given as punishment for our fascination with mortals. No amount of distance between us and that which we once coveted has been enough to return us to what we were, so we are simply Grigori, serving neither darkness nor light. I do not expect you to understand.”

She didn’t, not really… but she wanted to. Maybe after this, there would be time to try.

“So your isolation hasn’t done anyone a bit of good,” Damien muttered. He looked around. “Look, maybe each of us can get one of them. Lucan, you’re big enough that you may even be able to get two. It may be a better idea to try saving who we can. Sammael’s not here.”

Then his head jerked up, his pupils dilating so that for just an instant he was the cat again, a hunter scenting another predator. Ariane didn’t even want to turn. She already knew what she would see.

“He is here,” Lucan said softly. “As are my brothers.” He looked at Ariane. “This is not the time to fight. Do as they say.”

Damien looked aghast. “Are you mad?” he hissed. “Then what did we—”

“Listen to Lucan. He still has a bit of sense left, it seems.”

Ariane had to look then, compelled by the smooth, deadly sound of Sariel’s voice. When she did, what she saw made her heart sink. Sariel and three of the other ancients stood in the corridor, blocking the way out. Their swords, all well suited to their owners’ immense size, were drawn.

Sariel looked at each of them in turn, his eyes at last settling on Ariane. What she saw in them was so ancient and cold she wanted to scream.

“I did not give you enough credit, Ariane. Still, this ends the way it was always going to.” He smirked. “What is it these vampires like to say? Blood is destiny? So it is with you. Such strong blood. Like my brother. He still fights, but not for much longer.”

She felt Damien brush up against her, fingers brushing against her hand. Small comfort, but she was so glad he was there.

“You’ve gone insane,” Ariane said. “You’d sacrifice everything for a demon who does nothing but destroy?”

Sariel made a low, ominous sound that was eerily close to a growl. “My brother,” he said, “always saw what I could not. We’ve wasted so much time, denying ourselves. Watching over the worthless.”

“Then we start again,” Lucan said. “Build what we can for ourselves. Join the world we so hastily chose for ourselves, instead of waiting for a grace that will never come. This is not the answer, brothers.”

“It’s the only answer,” Sariel spat. “Chaos saw the truth when I was blind to it. I am ready to leave this half-life and truly live. Look at us, Lucan!” He spread out his arms, the embodiment of beauty and power. “We try to purge the world of our brethren when we should be ruling it! We’ve been at odds too long. It’s time to reconcile with the Dark Fallen. Consider yourself a reconciliation gift… brother.”

Sariel looked at the ancients to his left. “Armaros, lock the rest back up. Baraqel, behind them in case they try to run.”

Damien had his daggers out in an instant, sliding in front of Ariane to shield her before she realized what he was doing. She wished desperately for a sword, a dagger, anything so that they might at least be a match for Sariel and the others.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Damien growled.

Sariel only looked at him, bemused. “No, you won’t.”

She felt a cold hand grip her upper arm, felt the bite of steel in the small of her back, and knew that all of the ancients but Lucan and Sam had joined with Sariel… and with Chaos. Damien whipped his head around, his face falling when he saw the ancient called Ezekeel holding on to her.

“Come,” Sariel said. “I’ll escort you.”

When he turned, Ariane saw that his wings, and the wings of his brothers, had all gone pitch-black.

There was a turn at the end of the corridor, leading to the most massive door Ariane had ever seen. It was made of some sort of metal, and despite its obvious age, it still had a sheen to it. The air felt heavier here, weighted with power that hissed and sizzled over her skin. It was uncomfortable, and it got worse the closer they got to the door. Still, she had no choice. The tip of Ezekeel’s dagger bit into her back every time she slowed. And despite Damien’s repeated glances back to check on her, he could do nothing.