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point during this stand-off, but he was being kind by requesting that she let me go. My pulse reverberated between my ears, filling the silence with my panic.

Heartbeats later, Captain Zella still hesitated, her throat bobbing up and down. Maybe she got into trouble for my escape and subsequent disappearance, and this was her big chance to restore her reputation. Maybe she just wanted to stick to the rules.

My throat spasmed. Right now, I didn’t know who I felt safer with—Captain Zella, who only wanted me dead, or with Hades.

The Demon King had a dozen reasons for reneging on our agreement, the first being that it hadn’t been signed in blood and therefore was not a contract. Sure, I held the Hell ring hostage, but he could pluck it out of my cloak as easily as he could pluck the phoenix out of my soul. Another reason to save face. What kind of King of Hell wanted people to know he’d allowed Kresnik to burn his body to ash and separate his remains into five pieces?

My throat dried at the thought of reason number three. The only reason Kresnik was able to break free was because Hades hadn’t kept a tight control over who could flit in and out of Hell. Thanks to Father Jude’s ability to cross realms with his magic undetected, the worst fire user of the millennium had now escaped. If I got a chance to speak to the Supernatural Council, the blame would fall on Hades.

“Very well,” said Captain Zella. “When I report to the Council of Ministers tomorrow morning, what should I tell the other monarchs?”

“Prepare it as usual,” he replied. “I will bring what’s left of Miss Griffin to the meeting as proof of her recapture.”

My heart skipped several beats to slam itself against my breastbone, and a whimper reverberated in the back of my throat.

Captain Zella pressed a button on her device, releasing the magical hold on my body. Overbalancing, I slumped forward, but Hades caught me in his arms before I fell onto my face.

My cheek landed smack in the middle of his warm pecs, which resounded with a strong heartbeat that quickened with every passing moment. Hades’ grip around my arms and back tightened, holding me to his larger body.

“Easy now, Miss Griffin,” he said in a rumbling voice that made my skin tighten with trepidation. “We can’t have you damaging yourself before we reach our destination.”

“Let go of me.” I jerked my arms, trying to reach the weapon in my pocket, but his magic snapped around my wrists like invisible thorns. “Hades—”

The same prickly power clamped around my jaw and the back of my head, creating a harness. I turned to Captain Zella, whose paling face said she wouldn’t wish my predicament on even the worst criminal.

“Until tomorrow, Captain.” Hades hoisted me up into his arms and carried me across the entrance hall and down the steps of Kenwood House like an abducted bride.

We stepped into the lit courtyard, where agents of the Supernatural Council paused in their duties to watch this rejuvenated version of Hades carry me off. The vast lawns of Hampstead Heath stretched out into the darkness, broken by the brightly lit high-rises that made up the London skyline.

A halo of yellow bloomed behind the buildings amid a backdrop of the indigo sky. My chest tightened, and a breath caught in the back of my throat. This couldn’t be the last time I would see the Human World through my regular eyes.

I glowered up at the Demon King, whose heated gaze penetrated the heavy fabric of my reaper cloak. If Hades carried out his threat to strip out my phoenix, I would escape, find Valentine, and spit flames at him until he showed me where he had hidden his heart.

A tennis-ball-sized sphere of fire appeared twenty feet ahead, increasing in size with Hades’ approaching steps. I’d never seen a demon’s portal before, but it was unmistakable from the curls of brimstone-scented smoke.

“Hmmmmm!” I growled in the back of my throat. He couldn’t take me to Hell—I wasn’t even dead.

Blood roared in my ears, ordering me to break free. I thrashed my bound arms, kicked out my legs, but his infernal magic wrapped around my ankles held me in place. The power thrumming through the bindings said that any attempts to break through them would result in agony, but any amount of pain was better than going to Hell.

I twisted. Squirmed. Thrashed from side to side, but it made no difference. Hades’ grip was absolute compared to my feeble attempts to break free. The ball of fire drifted toward us, now five feet tall and expanding fast. Sweat broke out across my brow, which chilled my skin in the night’s breeze.

“What’s that?” someone said from our right.

A tiny blur darted through the agents, dodging blasts of magic, racing toward us with an inhuman speed. It scampered up Hades’ black suit, making the demon roar with outrage.

As the hellfire engulfed our bodies, a warm bundle settled onto my lap. Macavity rose onto his hind legs with a hiss, and raised his front paws at Hades, but even he froze in the magic of the Demon King.

Seconds later, the hellfire faded, and we stood in the middle of a huge bedroom.

There was a show on TV that Beatrice made me watch about a handsome mafia guy who abducted a woman and gave her a year to fall in love with him. I really didn’t understand the appeal of the premise, nor did I enjoy the subtitles, but Beatrice cried with laugher throughout the man’s not-so-subtle attempts to entice the woman to have sex.

At one point, he tied her up in a Fifty Shades-style room and paraded himself like some kind of stud. I wanted to watch Grease or Dirty Dancing, and so did Macavity, but Beatrice assured us it would get better. It didn’t.

Our surroundings may as well have been the movie set. Will-o’-the-wisps floated along the purple walls, illuminating

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