“He said he would allow me to live,” Nathaniel said. “Although Lord Lucifer understands that I only acted as instructed by the lord of my court, rebellion is still a serious matter.”

“I’m surprised he gave you as much leniency as he did,” I said.

“As was I,” Nathaniel replied. “I asked for mercy, but I did not expect to receive it.”

“Why didn’t you go to ground like Azazel?” I asked.

“I will not live my life like a hunted animal. Either I would die honorably by the sword before Lucifer’s court or I would benefit from his mercy. I would not run.”

There was a kind of strength in that, a nobility I hadn’t expected from Nathaniel.

“But if you fail in protecting me, Lucifer will kill you,” I said. I was very uncomfortable with the idea that Nathaniel’s life was dependent upon my benevolence.

“I truly believe that Lucifer expects I will die in defense of you,” Nathaniel said.

“You seem awfully calm about it,” I said, searching his face for any sign of fear.

He shrugged, and the gesture seemed so out of character for him that I smiled. The smile faded when he spoke again.

“It is not such a bad thing to die in battle. Perhaps I could regain some of the honor I lost. Perhaps you would then think better of me.”

I felt that the longer he spoke, the more confused I became. It was easier to think of his actions as black-and-white, to think of Nathaniel as the enemy. I didn’t want to credit him with humanity.

We stood in the little foyer, staring at each other. And then I jumped about six feet in the air when someone knocked on the outside door. It was J.B., standing on the other side of the glass with a grim expression on his face.

I opened the door, scowling. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“What’s he doing here?” J.B. asked, jerking his thumb at Nathaniel.

I looked at my raggedy ex-fiancé and sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is,” J.B. said. “Can I have a word?”

“Come on up,” I said. “Nathaniel…”

“I will remain outside,” he said.

He and J.B. slipped past each other in the doorway. I swear I could see their hackles rising as they passed.

I silently led J.B. upstairs and waved him into the apartment, closing the door behind us.

“I’m assuming you’re here because of the body,” I said.

“What body?” he asked sharply.

“Um, never mind,” I said, backpedaling.

“Black…” he said menacingly.

“Oh, fine,” I said, and explained about the Grimm’s attack.

J.B. listened intently until I was finished “Well, I guess I’m a little late in warning you.”

“Warning me about what?” I asked warily.

“The blood price on your head.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Whoever wants to kill me now had just better take a number.”

“Certain factions of my kingdom are demanding your life in exchange for killing the queen.”

It took me a second to remember what J.B. meant by “kingdom.” It was hard for me to recall sometimes that he was now king of Amarantha’s court.

“How can there be factions demanding anything?” I asked. “I thought they all fled when Lucifer punished Amarantha.”

“Now that the stigma of a monstrous ruler has been lifted, the court has returned.”

“So none of them would openly support Amarantha while she was disfigured and lived, but now that she’s dead they’re demanding vengeance?” I said skeptically.

“Don’t ask me to explain how faeries think,” J.B. said. “At any rate, there are some very vocal groups asking me to take action.”

“And one of them sent the Grimm.”

“Very likely.”

“Can’t you keep control over the court?” I said, thinking of what Beezle had told me earlier about the rigid caste system in the fallen courts. “Don’t faeries love order?”

“They also love playing politics. I have not had many opportunities to establish authority and gather allies. The Agency management is pressuring me to clean up the mess from the memory-stealing incident.”

I realized then how tired J.B. looked, and how thin. “You’re getting it from all sides, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be here worrying about threats against my life. I’m small potatoes.”

“Like I would stand by and let some discontented faeries take a swipe at you? You should think better of me.”

“I didn’t mean that,” I said, irritated now. “I just meant that I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I do,” he said, brooding.

“Faerie magic can’t take me down,” I said lightly. “At least, it hasn’t managed to yet.”

“You haven’t seen the worst the faeries have to offer,” J.B. said.

“What can be worse than the Grimm? The Maze? Giant spiders and tentacled monsters?” I asked.

“There’s worse.”

“Oh.” I tried not to imagine what might be worse than what I’d already faced. I had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

“At any rate, I’m doing my best to ferret out the fractious individuals. Until I find them, watch your back. Do you want me to arrange for protection?”