Finale

he really had lit me on fire.
    “Stop!” I finally cried out, lunging into the open and writhing on the floor—anything to suffocate the flames devouring my flesh.
    In that instant, the fiery heat vanished, though I hadn’t felt the water that had surely extinguished it. I lay on my back, my face bathed in sweat. It hurt to breathe.
    “Everyone
out
,” the fallen angel commanded.
    I’d almost forgotten there were others in the room. They would never forget this. How could they? Did they understand what was happening? Did they know this hadn’t been staged for
the party? I prayed someone would go for help. But the farmhouse was so remote. It would take time to bring help.
    And the only person who could help was Patch, and I had no way to reach him.
    Legs and feet scrabbled across the floor, darting for the exit. Andy Smith dodged from behind the sofa and plowed frantically through the doorway.
    I lifted my head just high enough to look at the fallen angel. It was dark, but I saw a towering, skeletal, half-naked silhouette. And two savage, glittering eyes.
    The bare-chested fallen angel from the Devil’s Handbag and the woods watched me. His disfiguring hieroglyphics seemed to twitch and flutter over his skin, as though attached to invisible
strings. In realty, I was sure they moved with the rise and fall of his breathing. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the small, raw wound on his chest.
    “I’m Baruch.” He pronounced it
Ba-rewk
.
    I scooted to the corner of the room, wincing in pain.
    “Cheshvan has started, and I don’t have a Nephil vassal,” he said. He kept his tone conversational, but there was no light in his eyes. No light, and no warmth.
    Too much adrenaline made my legs feel twitchy and weighted. I didn’t have many options. I wasn’t strong enough to barrel past him. I couldn’t fight him—if I tried, one
call to his buddies would leave me outnumbered in seconds. I cursed my mom for kicking Patch out. I needed him. I couldn’t do this on my own. If Patch were here, he’d know what to
do.
    Baruch traced his tongue along the inside of his lip. “The leader of the Black Hand’s army, and what am I to do with her?”
    He plunged into my mind. I felt him do it, but I was powerless to prevent it. I was too exhausted to fight. The next thing I knew, I had crawled obediently over and lay at his feet like a dog.
He kicked me onto my back, gazing predatorily down at me. I wanted to bargain with him, but my teeth were clenched so tightly, it was as if my jaw had been sewn shut.
    You can’t argue with me,
he whispered hypnotically to my mind.
You can’t refuse me. Whatever I command, you must do.
    I tried unsuccessfully to shut out his voice. If I could break his control, I could fight back. It was my only shot.
    “How does it feel to be a brand-new Nephil?” he murmured in a cold, scornful voice. “The world is no place for a Nephil without a master. I’ll protect you from other
fallen angels, Nora. From now on, you belong to me.”
    “I don’t belong to anyone,” I spat, the words slamming out of me with grueling effort.
    He exhaled, slow and deliberate. It came out like a chastising whistle between his teeth. “I’ll break you, my pet. Just see if I won’t,” he growled.
    I looked at him square on. “You made a big mistake coming here tonight, Baruch. You made a big mistake coming after me.”
    He grinned, a flash of sharp white teeth. “I’m going to enjoy this.” He took a step closer, power spilling off him. He was almost as strong as Patch, but there was a
bloodthirsty edge to his power that I’d never felt with Patch. I didn’t know how long ago Baruch had fallen from heaven, but I knew without any doubt that he had given himself over to
evil, wholeheartedly.
    “Swear your oath of fealty, Nora Grey,” he ordered.

C HAPTER

21
    I WOULD
NOT
SWEAR THE OATH. AND I WOULD NOT allow him to drag the words out of me. No matter how much pain he
heaped on me, I had to stay strong. But a resilient defense alone wasn’t going to be enough to endure this. I needed an offense, and fast.
    Counter his mind-tricks with a few of your own,
I commanded myself. Dante had said mind-tricks were my best weapon. He’d said I was better at it than almost any Nephil he knew of.
I’d fooled Patch. And I would fool Baruch now. I’d create my own reality and shove him so hard inside it, he wouldn’t know what hit him.
    Squeezing my eyes shut to block out Baruch’s insidious