I stared up at the hulking, semi-corporeal beast and tried to focus. Fear, anger, hate — all that dark side shit — swirled through me like a tornado, threatening to tear me apart. This thing — this monster — killed Jamie, and Al, and poor little Peetie, and who knows who else, all because my dad decided to play dead instead of doing his damned job.

That's where the true focus of my anger lies: my dad. Because somehow or other, this is all his fault. If he'd just left me alone — left me and my mom alone to begin with — maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe my mom would still be alive. Maybe I could have grown up knowing what it felt like to be loved, instead of—

"Why have you summoned Inguka, weeping one?"

The demon's guttural rasp startled me. I hadn't realized it could speak, much less speak English, or that I'd started to cry. Wiping my eyes, I sniffed and glared up at the spectre.

"Where is Evangeline?" I asked.

"There are many with that name. Which do you seek?"

"Where is your master?" I rephrased with a snap.

I was not at my best, admittedly. My head hurt, my back hurt, my heart hurt; I was scared and angry, tired and confused, and not at all in the mood for demonic games.

The hyena-thing tilted its ugly head to the side, its beady eyes lit from within as if by yellow flames.

"Inguka has no master."

I cast a glance at my father and whispered, "I thought demons couldn't lie?"

He frowned. "They can't."

Turning back to the spectre, I tried again. "Inguka, whom do you serve?"

"Inguka serves the summoner."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Who summoned you?"

"You summoned me, oh weeping one. What is it you desire of Inguka?"

Exasperated, I threw up my hands and turned to my father. "You talk to it. You're the demon tamer."

To my surprise, he caught my left hand and held it up, his gray brows pinching so tight a deep line appeared between them.

"Ellie, what happened?" he asked, his eyes scanning the pattern of fine, lacelike scars covering my skin. For half a second, I thought he was actually concerned; then he opened his mouth again. "Where is my ring?"

A scowl pulled at my lips, and I yanked my hand from his grasp. "I took it off. It's fine."

"You took it off? Why?"

"Can we focus on the hyena-demon?" I snapped. "Who cares about your stupid ring?"

"I do, and if you don't, you should. It's charmed to conceal and contain your magic, should it manifest while I wasn't there to guide you. If you hadn't removed it, you wouldn't have burned or revealed yourself."

"So this is my fault?" I asked, incredulous and mildly outraged.

Ignoring my tone, my father waved his hand. "Well, what did you do with it? Tell me you didn't lose it, at least."

"I'm not a complete idiot," I said, glaring as I pulled the ring from beneath my shirt, where I wore it on a thin chain, Frodo style.

My father gave me a look that clearly said 'could have fooled me,' but very wisely did not say as much aloud. 

Instead, he said, "Put it on."

I'd always wondered why I'd kept the thing and wore it so constantly. It certainly wasn't to remember the good times with dear old dad. It made more sense now that I knew it was enchanted.

Angrily, I snapped the ring off the chain and put it on, holding up my hand for him to see.

"Fine. There. Happy now?"

"No. But if you're done acting like a child, then I am satisfied."

I rolled my eyes at him and brushed my bangs out of my face. "Great. Now talk to the hyena-thing."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You summoned it; you must speak with it."

"Seriously?" I looked back at 'Inguka,' who had lain down like a bored dog within the confines of the circle, and now lifted its head and yawned, revealing enormous, jagged, stained, bone-crushing teeth. I shuddered, but took a bracing breath and gathered my thoughts. Speaking to demons was clearly not something to take lightly, and I needed to choose my words with care.

"Inguka, were you sent to kill Alister Raine?"

The hyena blinked its jabberwock eyes at me.

"Inguka was not. Inguka was summoned."

A sigh escaped me, but before I could come up with a different way to phrase this, Inguka spoke again.

"Inguka does not serve; Inguka answers those who invoke Inguka's name. Inguka is protector; protector does not kill but to protect."

I rubbed my brow. "I don't understand. What the fuck were you protecting from Alister? Or Jamie?"

The hyena tilted its massive head to the other side.

"Inguka does not know of 'Alister' or of 'Jamie.' But Inguka knows of you, weeping one. Inguka has protected this one before."

"Wait... what? When?"

"A night of blood and danger. Inguka was sent to warn you of peril. You saw Inguka, yes?"

I nodded. "Yeah. But if you didn't kill Jamie, then... who did? And what about Al?"

"Inguka does not have this information."

I bit back a growl of annoyance. It was like talking to sub-par AI.

"Okay... Inguka. Who sent you to protect me?"

The hyena lowered its head on its long neck, and shut its fiery eyes.

"Inguka cannot say."

"Can't, or won't?" I challenged.

"Can't." My father rested a hand on my shoulder. "It must be part of a previous bargain. The demon can't break the contract."

I ducked from beneath his unwanted touch and ran my fingers through my hair. A protruding leaf on the ivy ring caught in a tangle and I winced.

"Okay, then. So, if Inguka's not Evangeline's familiar, and didn't kill Al or Jamie... then what was Luke's dead witch doing with its name?"

I turned back to the specter. We could keep going in circles like this all night.

Maybe it was being reminded of the night he died, but for some reason I remembered the first thing Jamie had taught me about video games. I didn't even like video games all that much, but this had stuck with me, for some reason:

If you keep doing the same thing, and it's not working, then you're doing something wrong.

I decided to try something else.

"Inguka, what is the price of your protection?"

The hyena regarded me with another slow blink.

"Inguka enjoys offerings."

I swallowed. "What... kind... of offerings?"

"Filet mignon."

"What?"

"It is called 'filet mignon.' It is—"

"I know what filet mignon is." I rubbed my brow. "That's what you want?"

"Yes. Fifty pounds of filet mignon."

I looked at Janelle. This was not how I imagined my first demonic bargain going, but it seemed to be going well so far. Fifty pounds of filet mignon sounded expensive, but—

"It must be 'wagyu' filet mignon. Inguka likes the kind of filet mignon that is called 'wagyu.'"

"What is that?" I whispered, directing this to my father. "Is that like, made from children, or something?"

"No, it's beef from Japan," he said. "Extremely expensive. Between four and five hundred dollars a pound."

"Shit. I can't—"

"Don't worry about it," he murmured. "Just accept the deal."

I cleared my throat. My father owed me a few decades worth of allowance, anyway. 

"Very well, Inguka. You shall have your offering. In return, I ask that you protect me and those with me, and that you take me to the demon called A'rozimbrel."

Somewhat disconcertingly, the gigantic hyena nodded.

"Inguka accepts these terms. Inguka protects. As for the one you call A'rozimbrel..." The hyena's eyes flared from yellow flame to bright red. "He is below; Inguka will take you there."

"To a hell realm?" I asked with some trepidation.

"To a lower level," Inguka said.

I frowned, but then a door in the hall clicked open, and Kyrie — who had obviously been listening all along, emerged.

"She means it literally," she said. "If Evangeline has taken him, then Ro is literally below us. I will show you the way."

I glanced between her and Janelle, and saw Janelle's expression go through a strange transformation.

"Ky, are you saying there's a basement below the basement?" she asked. "And no one's had the fucking decency to fucking tell me?"

Eyes angled at the ground, Kyrie nodded. "Yes."

"Shit. Shit fucking balls!!" Janelle yelled, making everyone jump. Decisively, she turned to Inguka. "You take us there, you hear? You take us to 'Rozimbrel, and I promise you'll have all the damn wagyu beef you can eat, you hear me?"

Inguka's head swung from me, to Janelle, and back to me. As the summoner, I figured the last word was mine.

I nodded.

Inguka nodded in return, and so it was done.

"The bargain is made. Release Inguka, and Inguka shows the way."

I hated doing it, but I glanced at my father for approval. He was the expert, after all.

He nodded as well. And so, with the toe of my grubby pink Chuck Taylor, I scrubbed out the edge of the circle that bound Inguka in place.

"Lead the way then, Inguka."

Inguka's eyes flared bright yellow, and then, with a snarl, she — for I was pretty sure by that point that Inguka was a 'she' — barreled past me in a spectral rush and disappeared through the door of Janelle's apartment.

"You know, hyenas are terribly misunderstood animals," Janelle commented. "They're affectionate and playful, and they have matriarchs. Not like lions at all." She glanced at my father. "So, who's up for a little rescue mission?"

I clenched my jaw and let my own fire ignite, making the scars in my hands flare an electric white.

"No one has to come with me," I said. "I've been alone my whole life. I can do this on my own, too."

My father rested his hand on my shoulder again. "No, you can't. I can't, either, Ellie. Neither of us is as good alone as we can be together."

"You absolute prick," Janelle scoffed, voicing my opinion for me. "You've no right to ask anything of your 'son.' But all that aside, we've a daemon to rescue, and a cult to crash. So, as I said: who's with me?"

A chorus of voices joined in enthusiastic reply: Kyrie's, Luke's, Lucian Drake's, my own, and — most unexpectedly — my father, Oscar Vile's.