“Afraid I’ll start a civil war?” I asked dryly.

“Something of that nature,” he said. “And you must not mention Evangeline unless you are alone with Lord Azazel. My lord has not revealed your visions to Lord Lucifer as of yet.”

“Why not?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little . . . seditious?”

“Quite probably,” Gabriel replied. “But Lord Azazel knows what he is about. He is understandably wary of drawing Lord Lucifer’s attention to you. Finally, you must not be too familiar with me when we enter the court.”

“Why not?”

“I am your inferior. It would be seen as an insult both to Lord Azazel and to yourself were I to behave as your equal.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact that it pissed me off. “You are not my inferior in any way.”

“To the Grigori, the fallen, the demonic, I am. This is a very different world you are about to enter, Madeline. Be careful where you tread.”

Just as he reached for the silver doorknob, the handle turned on its own. The door opened inward and a surprisingly familiar figure stepped out.

“You!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”

Ms. Greenwitch narrowed her eerie gray eyes at me. “I could ask the same of you, cursed one.”

I heard Gabriel’s sharp intake of breath beside me. “Whatever. I don’t really care why you’re here. You just keep the hell away from me.”

“Madeline,” Gabriel said in an undertone. “You must not be so disrespectful. She is ...”

“Disrespectful?” I said, my voice rising. “This crazy bitch blasted me for no apparent reason the last time I saw her.”

The door was slightly ajar behind Ms. Greenwitch and I heard a rustle of movement from inside.

“She did what?” Gabriel asked, looking from my furious face to Ms. Greenwitch’s stony one.

“She blasted me. I tried to shake her hand and she lost her mind. Those bruises I had on me the last time you healed me weren’t just from Ramuell.”

“Obviously I didn’t use enough power on you,” Ms. Greenwitch said icily. “I will take care to remedy that the next time.”

“Cease at once,” Gabriel hissed. “Both of you. Your lives are in danger if you continue this quarrel. Lady Greenwitch, this is Lord Azazel’s daughter.”

Greenwitch blanched. “What? She is his daughter?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t check my references thoroughly enough,” I said snidely.

“And Lady Greenwitch,” Gabriel said, turning to me, “is the mother of Lord Azazel’s only son, Antares.”

I was confused. How could this woman, witch or otherwise, be the mother of that monster? But anger overrode my curiosity.

“You’re Antares’s mother? You? You need to keep that jackass on a shorter leash,” I said, furious.

“Now do you see the danger?” Gabriel said to Greenwitch.

“I did not . . . I did not know,” Greenwitch said, her hand over her heart. “I had the vision . . . The vision I had did not show her origins, only her curse. Lord Azazel has always been careful to disguise her identity—I could not know!”

“Nevertheless,” a voice said behind her, a voice so melodic and beautiful that it made me dizzy to hear it. “You have broken the word of Lord Azazel, and so must be punished.”

The double doors swung open and revealed a crowd of about twenty people, all avidly listening to our conversation. At the forefront was a man so blindingly beautiful that I had to close my eyes and turn my head away for a moment. When I reopened them and turned back, his shine seemed to have dulled a bit, enough that I could look at him and the assemblage gathered behind him.

There were no demons in this crowd. Each figure was clearly one of the fallen. Every one, male and female, had soft golden hair and dark blue eyes filled with a deep canvas of stars. Every one was surrounded by a soft aura of light and warmth. They were dressed in modern clothing—very expensive and chic modern clothing that looked incongruous next to the enormous white wings folded at their backs. I felt bereft without my wings, like the only one without a gun at a gunfight. Especially when I realized that Gabriel’s wings, usually hidden beneath his omnipresent black coat, had appeared sometime after we had arrived in the antechamber.

The leader of the group was very tall, even taller than Gabriel, who outstripped me by at least a foot. Every feature was perfect, but there was no warmth in his face, only the coldness of stone. It diminished the effect of his beauty somewhat.

“Lady Greenwitch,” he said, and reached out to grip her by the elbow. She looked like she was about to faint. He handed her off to someone standing behind her and the crowd moved farther into the room, the murmuring of their voices like the tinkling of silver bells.

“What’s happening?” I hissed to Gabriel.

He shook his head at me, as if to say, “Not now.”

“Yes, now,” I whispered.

He gave another little headshake as the leader turned back to me. The fallen angel gave me an embarrassingly deep bow.

“My lady Madeline. It is my greatest honor to welcome you to your father’s court.” He reached for my hand and I sidled out of reach, put off by his obsequious manner. Annoyance flared in his eyes but he banked it quickly, so quickly I almost thought I imagined it.

“And you are?” I asked.

“Forgive me, my lady. You are correct. I am Nathaniel, Lord Azazel’s most trusted advisor, and he has asked me to escort you to his presence.” He looked at Gabriel and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “You are also to report to Lord Azazel, thrall.”