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Daemonae disappear in a blast ofsmoke, fire and brimstone. Including Asmodeus.

They were gone.

He was safe. For the moment. But as long as Templeton hadthe Book of Demons Asmodeus and the others never would be really safe.Templeton could summon him back at any time.

That wasn’t going to happen. If Asmodeus or his brotherswere ever to be truly free, she had to get that damn Book away fromTempleton. And keep it away.

And she would.

Chapter Eight

One look at Gabriel sighting down the barrel of her gun andTempleton’s man skittered away in terror, falling backward and scrambling onhis hands as she reached for the Book. Dodging the gunfire, Gabrielraced toward him. He backed away in a hurry, holding his hands up defensively.Gabriel ignored him, everything focused on the Book.

It was ancient, with thick, rough-edged pages. The title hadbeen embossed into the cover in a script so old and so embellished with tracesof gilt and paint that she couldn’t read it. Small flakes of gold were stillimpressed into the letters. It was bound in some kind of darkly tanned leatherthat was almost as smooth and dark as mahogany, yet strangely soft, with hintsof deep red and black and a shiny gloss to it almost as if it had been oiled.

With a horrified shudder Gabriel suddenly knew the source ofthe skin with which the Book was bound. She almost cried out herrevulsion.

Dear god, she thought, and wondered if He’d answerthe call of a tarnished angel seeking help for a demon, one who was prince ofthem all.

He helped those though who first helped themselves, sheknew.

As she took it up, the Book burned in her hands likefire, scorching, scalding. Pain seared up her wrists, screamed along hernerves.

Created by those ancient priests, the Book triedfuriously to reject her. She, debauched by a demon, was anathema to it.

She clung to it despite the pain.

Templeton shouted, “Stop her. She must not take the Book.”

More gunfire exploded around her, cut off her escape.Gabriel ducked behind the scant protection of the podium as chips of woodshowered around her and returned fire.

She had to get rid of it, but where?

She turned toward the doors.

Templeton’s men closed in on her. Clutching the Bookto her chest with one hand despite the pain that shot through her body, shesnapped off a few shots to drive them off, but she knew her clip was gettinglow.

In desperation she looked around.

She couldn’t let Templeton get the Book back.

Her eyes settled on Asmodeus’ prison.

Their prison.

The rings between the worlds.

She remembered the thing that had snatched Baker, rememberedher first impressions when Templeton’s men had shoved her through those rings,defenseless against whatever lay in those other planes, those otherworldlydimensions.

Standing, with bullets flying around her, she spun like adiscus thrower and launched the Book, spine first, through the air.

It struck the marble floor, slid into and between the rings,slowing, slowing…

One of Templeton’s men sprang to intercept it.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

The man slipped on the polished floor to cut across thefirst line, the protective silver one, and screamed, suddenly, horrifically, asmist swirled from nowhere and he suddenly disappeared in an explosion of blood.

The mist turned crimson and dissipated.

The Book slid between the rings…and vanished.

Safe. Asmodeus and his Daemonae were safe. Templeton couldnever use the Book against them again.

With a shriek of rage and fury Templeton shouted at his men,then snatched a gun from one of them, turned toward her and sprayed gunfireeverywhere.

She ducked, rolled to escape it.

Magic flared, the feel of it whispered across her skin likefeathers.

In the air above her, the room seemed to explode with thesound of wings, dozens of great leathery wings.

Gabriel looked up and there they were, the Daemonae.

Even in the midst of a firefight her breath caught in sheerwonder.

They were magnificent.

Deadly and beautiful, the Daemonae appeared in the airbeneath the great vaulted ceiling, their membranous wings flaring around themin great arcs.

Templeton looked up to see the upper part of the chamberfilled with furious Daemonae.

Balls of fire and lightning flashed through the air,conjured by them, crackling, trailing smoke as they shot toward their targets.

Templeton’s men scattered, far more concerned with survivalthan anything else.

A pulling gesture from one of the Daemonae, accompanied by asense of magic, and guns flew out of their opponents’ hands.

Coward that he was, Templeton fled, his guards in a cordonaround him, his dark eyes furious.

As he and his people disappeared into the darkness a deepboom echoed through the room behind him like the crack of doom. A door closing.

Heavy bolts shot home audibly, even above the cacophony ofgunfire.

Gabriel snapped her head around at the sound even as alarmshot through her.

Why would you need a door that heavy? Templeton hadn’t usedit before when he had taken Asmodeus in and out.

He would have been prepared in case of escape, or rescue, orsomething going wrong. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, risk letting a pissed-off demonloose—letting Asmodeus loose—in an open room.

She looked around her in stunned horror.

It was a blast door.

Fear, brilliant and white hot, shot through her.

Nor was she the only one, Baker’s men shouted in dismay andoutrage. There was an edge of panic in their voices, a cry of betrayal.

There was no place to run, no escape.

Gabriel looked up at Asmodeus and the Daemonae and her heartand her breath caught at the beauty of him, of them.

For them there was still a chance.

She shouted, “Get out, Asmodeus, Ashtoreth, all of you, getout!”

All Asmodeus could see was Gabriel, standing below him atthe edge of the darkness, her blue eyes brilliant, the lights turning her hairto shining silver as she looked up at him. Shadows moved in her eyes—sorrow andgrief.

There was fear in her voice.

A matching fear shot through Asmodeus as he caught an imageof the cause of her alarm through the bond between them.

He wasn’t leaving without her, he wasn’t losing her. Notnow. Not after he had finally found her.

There was a risk, but what choice had they?

In desperation he stooped, folded his wings and dove.

Time was running out, he sensed it.

There was a monstrous sound all around them even asAsmodeus’ arms closed around her,

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