Page 7 of Dancing With Demons

I bit my tongue. So much for him accepting the short version.

Sighing, I got out the rest. “He... did know this. My sister was just part of the ritual. The murders, the raven and crossbones, the missing body parts, all that hatred,” I said softly, “was the rest.

“He did it to find the secret of the hallows.”

I searched their faces for a hint of recognition, and got none.

“Well, it worked,” I continued. “His little ritual spat out some nursery rhyme with all the clues needed to create the All Hallows. Apparently, it’s some kind of crazy powerful being that’s more than strong enough to break open the gates and unleash hell on earth.”

“Hmm. I see.” Ronin rocked back on his heels, nodding. “That explanation was unexpectedly and disappointedly boring,” he dropped. “What a waste of my time this has been.” He turned to leave. “Tell the rest to your mutt. I’m not interested.”

“Wait, hold on!” I blurted. “What do you mean not interested? Did you hear what I just said?! Satan is hunting for some long-lost legendary power so that he can break down the gates of hell!”

Ronin tipped his head over his shoulder, looked me in the eyes, and said, “So?”

“What do you mean so?!”

“Uhh...” Tristan pulled a face. “Sorry, Charlie, but I don’t get it either? What’s the problem?”

I could only gape at them.

“I mean,” Tristan continued, “if he opens the gates, that means my people... will be free. We’ll run under the moon again.”

“And all of those who’ve invaded hell will fuck off where they belong,” Ronin drawled, leaning against the bedpost. “I fail to see a downside.”

“I... but...” My jaw worked, but full sentences refused to come out. It didn’t occur to me that Tristan of all people wouldn’t see things my way... but it was me who wasn’t seeing it from his perspective.

Three hundred years ago, my ancestors banished his into a hell they never belonged in. Just from hearing my mother speak, I knew it was both survival and hatred that drove the witches on that night three hundred years ago. They didn’t care if there were any good people among the supernaturals. They wanted them all gone.

And since then, the werewolves have been hunted, driven underground, separated from their own kind, and forced to live a brutal existence all for the crime of being shifters. If someone came along and offered to free them from this nightmare, why in the world would they think that was a bad thing?

Of course they won’t, I thought, dread spreading through my soul. The vampires will jump at the chance to feed on humans again. The fae will beat everyone to the exit, winging fast for the sun on their faces, the wind under their wings, and the human race beneath their boots.

Not a single denizen of hell is going to join the rot-in-hell-forever side. Not even my freaking mother. So what does that mean for the sole person who thinks of standing in their way?

“I...” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay, yes, I get what you’re saying. Anyone who has been falsely imprisoned is going to think the one showing them the way out is the hero, but think about it,” I pressed. “Really consider if Lucifer has ever been anyone’s hero.”

The smirk melted from Ronin’s lips.

“If he gets his hands on the power to open the gates, it’ll be the same power he uses to close them whenever he wishes.” I spun on Tristan. “Why would he let all the werewolf packs just skip away to freedom, when he could hold that freedom over your heads like an anvil—extracting all the forced deals and contracts out of you that he wants?”

As much as it hurt me, I watched the hope bleed out of Tristan’s eyes too. But it had to be said.

“When he first came to hell, he subjugated the demons, right?” I swung to Ronin. “Right?”

A blank face and flashing eyes met my question.

“He tried to— No, he did rule over you all,” I cried. “It wasn’t peace, diplomacy, or cooperation on his mind; it was absolute and complete power. So why would you just shrug and walk away at the idea of him amassing the kind of power that would have you all begging and pleading at his feet?” I scoffed. “Is it because you think that in the past several centuries, Lord Lucy learned how to do all the things you guys don’t even have words for!”

“You’ve made your point,” Ronin sliced in. “Now say what you want.”

My chest heaved. I’d gotten a little worked up at the end there, but I couldn’t help it. The idea that I’d really be the only one down here trying to prevent the apocalypse was enough to get anyone’s blood pressure running.

“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “What I want is...”

Caution stole the rest off my tongue. What did I want? What exactly was Tristan or Ronin going to do to help me? Lucifer had Dora. If I was going to get her back alive, I had to give him what he wanted. So did I really just give them that whole speech just to turn around and ask them to help me give Lucifer the power I just said he can’t have?

But maybe it doesn’t have to come to that. Lucifer said the power is inside me, I just have to unlock it with the clues in the spell. Maybe if I get my hands on the power first, I can use it to stop him and get Dora back before—