Demon Marked

vulnerable. God. Could he be so certain, when it meant risking her life?
    “And Ash—if Madelyn finds you together with Nicholas, she’ll order you to kill him. Because that would cause you the most pain, and because that is what a demon would do.”
    Ash shook her head. “But I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t obey.”
    “Then you’d be back in that frozen field as soon as she sacrifices you to the spell. And she wins either way.”
    Back in the frozen field. Ash continued to shake her head, but he saw the terror fill her eyes, the fear that would be her choice: to kill him, or to suffer an eternity of torment—a torture that she already knew too well.
    No doubt, Madelyn would order Ash to do it. Nicholas wouldn’t care if he died for her. But if Ash refused to carry it out, he couldn’t bear the thought of her in that field, tortured for eternity for saving him .
    He couldn’t bear it. And if Lilith had been searching for his limit, she’d just found it. So what now?
    It would be Ash’s decision. It had to be hers alone.
    Without taking his eyes from her, Nicholas said, “Will you two give us a minute? Let her take a breath, get dressed.”
    “So she doesn’t run around like that all the time? That’ll disappoint the novices,” Lilith said. “But go ahead.”
    With a quick, grateful glance at Nicholas, Ash turned toward the bedroom. Nicholas’s throat tightened. This wouldn’t be the last time he was with her there. He’d follow—
    “Ashmodei.”
    As if struck, Ash stumbled. She caught herself against the wall and slowly faced Lilith, her eyes wide. “What?”
    “Your name. I finally saw it when you moved—it’s written here.” Lilith touched her own chest, and Ash mirrored the movement, flattening her palm over the large symbol between her breasts. “Lucifer named you after a demon who betrayed him. It would be considered an insult to Ashmodei, giving the name to a halfling. I take it a good sign.”
    “Ashmodei,” she repeated softly. When she looked at Nicholas, a smile had transformed her face. “So you helped me discover it, after all.”
    “I didn’t—”
    “You’re the one who stripped me naked.”
    God, and she made him laugh. He followed her into the bedroom, memorizing the sway of her blond hair against her back, the square of her shoulders, the dimples above her perfect ass. Then she looked down at herself and her clothes formed, with boots matching the one that still lay with a broken heel near the bed.
    The Guardians could probably tell her how and why she did that. Nicholas hadn’t even been able to tell Ash her name. They could train her, better than he ever could.
    She faced him, and her smile had already gone, her eyes glowing crimson. He knew what her choice would be. What it had to be.
    And he knew what his had to be, too. “I’ll go with you.”
    “They’ll lock me up, you realize. Not in a cell, but the effect is the same. They’ll lock me up tight—and you’d be locked up with me, too, because Madelyn might find me through you.”
    “Then I’ll stay locked up with you.”
    Her tearful smile gave him hope. Until she spoke. “You can’t come.”
    Feeling sucker-punched, he shook his head. “What?”
    “You can’t.” Her breath hitched. “The Guardians aren’t perfect. They can be defeated. They have their limits. You forced one to leave us in Duluth by pointing a crossbow at her friend’s head. They’ll work harder than that to protect me, but there’s always a chance Madelyn will get through and I’ll have to choose whether or not to kill you.”
    And he’d make that choice as easy for her as he could. “You died for me once. I’d return the favor.”
    “That was Rachel.”
    No. He hadn’t meant—“I know you aren’t Rachel.”
    He’d never been this fucked up over her. Rachel had deserved better than she’d gotten, but he hadn’t been able to give it to her.
    “Yes, but that’s my point. That was Rachel. She loved you.”
    His chest turned to lead. “And you don’t.”
    But it didn’t matter. He’d still protect her. He’d still die for her.
    “Today I think I do,” she said, but held up her hands, stopped him when he’d have gone to her. “Tomorrow, I might not.”
    “Ash—”
    “It’ll probably change. It’ll fade.” She drew her hands in, wrapping them around her stomach as if keeping herself warm, holding herself in. “Nothing I feel stays the same. My emotions are up, and down, and all over. Today, I