whatever they could get their hands on, throwing it into the bags and boxes they carried.
“Hey!” I cried. “That’s my stuff.”
“Lord Azazel has given the order to relocate you,” the demon said, drawing my attention to him again. “Your belongings will be packed up and moved as well. If you’ll follow me.” He stepped back and gestured into the hallway.
I hesitated, my mind jumping to the one item I sure wouldn’t want anyone else to touch and move. I was halfway to the bedroom when I remembered…I’d left it lying on the counter in Azazel’s bathroom.
Good Lord, I had to get it back. Somehow. Without asking him for it.
If only I could summon, dammit!
Face burning, I turned back to the demon, cleared my throat and said, “All right. Lead the way.”
My simmering suspicion of maybe being relocated to the fabled dungeons after all—Azazel’s recent behavior suggested otherwise, but who knew with that capricious demon—evaporated with every staircase we ascended on our way to my new lodging. With this much climbing, I sure didn’t need exercise anymore today. Although I might have to keep up some form of it, judging by the way I gasped for breath soon.
My demon guide threw me a glance. “Do you need a break?”
He was utterly ungasping, the fiend. His breath hadn’t even sped up a little.
“I’m fine,” I wheezed. The rattle in my lungs painted me a liar.
He raised a brow and stopped, leaning against the hallway wall at the top of the stairs we’d just cleared.
“No, no,” I panted, clinging to the handrail. “We can...keep going.”
“If you collapse,” he said and crossed his arms, “Lord Azazel will skewer me.”
“Like, literally?”
Expression sinister, the demon nodded. “I have strict orders not to touch you, so if you fall and I need to carry you, I’ll end up on a stick.”
I blinked, and an image of those damn, pinned wings flashed across my inner eye. “Okay,” I said weakly and slid down until my butt hit the top step of the stairs. Gesturing at myself, I said, “This is not collapsing, just for the record. I’m admiring the masonry.” I stroked the stone and nodded appreciatively. “Such great craftsmanship. Very fine work.”
Something like the hint of a smile flitted across the demon’s face. Like Hekesha, he was armed to the teeth, his clothes fit for battle.
“So, while we’re waiting for me to finish my assessment of the workmanship of these stairs,” I said, still catching my breath, “maybe you can help me answer some questions.”
His expression became guarded. “Within reason.”
“Okay, so, first off, what’s your name?”
“Caleb.”
“Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Zoe.” I waved. “Now, what’s with all these weapons? I noticed Hekesha was packing as well, but Azazel and Azmodea weren’t. Neither was Zaquiel. Is it because you’re a guard?”
He stiffened. “Lord Azazel and his peers are full-blood demons.”
Oh, crap. I’d blundered the titles, hadn’t I? It was probably an unimaginable affront to use Azazel’s name without his honorific, even when he wasn’t present…or at least it would be inappropriate for someone lower in status than him, which I would be as his pet.
Rubbing my nose, I amended, “My lord and master, of course. Wait—so you’re…”
“Half-blood.” A glimmer of defiance in his brown eyes.
And Hekesha likely was one as well. Interesting.
“Were you born on Earth?”
A slow nod.
“Did you grow up there?”
“Until my powers came in.”
“And then you came to live down here?”
His mouth twisted with a sardonic smile. “Came. Dragged.” He shrugged. “Semantics.”
“Oh.” I fidgeted with the seam of my tank top. “How...how does it work, with half-bloods? Don’t you have a choice?”
“Generally, no. Especially not when you accidentally set your home on fire, with your human mother in it.”
I covered my mouth with one hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“We should go.” He pushed off the wall and sauntered down the hallway.
Hurrying after him, I bit my lip. I probably shouldn’t pry further, given the delicacy of the topic, but I had to know. “Is Az—Lord Azazel your father?”
He threw a glance at me over his shoulder. “No.”
Silence hung between us for a few steps.
Caleb’s quiet words startled me. “I’d have fared better if he were.”
I swallowed. “I take it you and your father didn’t get along.” Something twisted in my chest. “I can relate to that.”
“Half-bloods,” he said after a moment, “aren’t valued as highly as full-blood offspring. We’re weaker than demons, so we’re used for menial labor instead of more important tasks. Some see a certain worth in us, since we’re not bound to Hell