my legs. “That’s—that’s absurd!”
She shrugged. “It’s the law.”
“Well, it’s a shitty law!”
She sighed. “We don’t make the rules, Zoe. We just enforce them.”
No. Oh, no, no, no.
My mind was racing, thoughts tumbling one over the other.
“I thought Az told you…”
Her soft words yanked me out of the spiral of chaos in my head—and heart. I sucked in a breath, my stomach plummeting. “He knows?”
Azmodea sat up as well. “Zoe…”
My mouth tasted sour. I hopped off the table, got dressed in record time, and stormed out of the room, ignoring Azmodea’s calls.
Vengeance jumped up from her lounging position outside the massage room and trotted behind me as I marched through the hallways, nausea churning in my gut. The huge double doors to the training hall loomed in front of me. I pushed them open without breaking my stride.
The scent of sand and dirt and sweat hit me, mixed with the metallic tang of blood and weapons. In the center of the arena-like room, two shapes moved in a blur of strikes and parries. Blades clanged, swished and sang. Dust flew up and billowed around them. The two fighters moved too fast for me to actually see them, but I didn’t need my eyes to recognize Azazel. His power hovered in the air, a thick charge of honed violence and controlled, efficient brutality.
“Is it true?” I called out. My voice wavered, barely audible over the sound of the sparring.
And yet, Azazel stopped the fight immediately. He took one look at me, his features hardening, and jerked his head at his sparring partner. “Out.”
The other demon left so fast, one would think a hellhound snapped at his heels.
Azazel faced me, his bare chest heaving slightly. Sweat glistened on his bronze skin, his muscles flexing, the heat of battle licking over his formidable body. Any other time I’d have appreciated the sight of him all worked up and brimming with primal, masculine ferocity. Right now, though, I stared at him with nausea twisting my stomach, my hands clenched to fists at my sides.
“Is he here?” I rasped. “My father. Is he in Hell?”
The expression on his face was answer enough.
My breath hitched. “You knew. You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”
He moved closer, the sword loosely held in his hand, pointing down. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “And what good would it have done if I told you?”
“I would have—”
“What?” His tone sharpened. “You were grieving. And you’d like me to add to that pain?”
“It’s not about that,” I ground out, my heart thudding so fiercely I feared it might break out of my chest. “We could save him. Find his soul, and—I don’t know, get him out. You guys trade in souls all the time. So trade for him! If he’s yours, then you get to decide how—or if—he is tortured. You could just leave him be, couldn’t you? Or take him to Earth!”
The tiny muscles around his eyes twitched, his jaw hardening, as if he was trying his damnedest to remain calm against a surge of emotion. “Have you considered that his punishment is just? That there’s a reason he should be here? It’s not something we decide. We don’t drag innocent souls to Hell. They are already marked.”
“Then unmark him!” I was breathing heavily now, the thought of my dad’s soul suffering from who knew what kind of torture burning through me like nauseous acid. “Yes, what he did was shitty. He lied to us, he betrayed us, he hurt us, but—he shouldn’t burn in Hell for it. That’s for murderers and rapists, for fuck’s sake. He shouldn’t be here.” My eyes prickled hot, and I blinked furiously against the impending threat of tears.
“There’s nothing I can do for him,” Azazel said, a horrible finality in his voice.
“Please.” My throat clogged up. “Please, you have to find him. I can’t just leave him here. If you could just find out where—”
“I already know.” His rough interruption cut me off. “I know exactly where he is.”
Startled, I closed my mouth and stared at him. A storm of epic proportions hid behind his eyes, glimpses of violently leashed, frustrated rage showing in the fiery cracks in his skin.
“Lucifer has him,” he said through gritted teeth.
The floor fell out from under me. My vision went a little sideways.
“There’s an archive,” he went on, “where all souls are logged. Their names, their origins, who caught them, and where they are kept now. I made an inquiry after we returned. A demon from Lucifer’s territory