The girl spins around. "Mommy!" She runs towards her, nearly bowling the woman over.

I stand next to the gatehouse, watching their reunion as a pang of emotion stabs me in the heart. No, I need to stop getting sentimental. What I need to do is get my money and get the hell out of here.

Kayleigh's mother looks just like her daughter—the same warm brown skin and eyes. The only difference is that her hair is pulled back into a thick bun, whereas the kid's is tied into two balls atop her head.

"You made it," the woman murmurs, rubbing a hand along the girl's back. She looks up and spies me. "Ah, Hunter. Thank you for bringing my daughter."

I nod perfunctorily. "It was my job," I tell her. "If I could just get my payment slip, I'll be on my way."

Doctor Parrish-Abbott presses a kiss to Kayleigh's head, then gently untangles the girl's arms from around her waist. The joy and motherly love slip from her face and she suddenly becomes solemn. "Of course. But I must invite you inside."

Beneath the scarves, I bite my lower lip. I'm ten years older, scarred, and with blue hair. How many of my parents' old coworkers would recognize me? Apparently, not the good doctor here. "Fine," I say.

"Good, good." The doctor slips her arm around her daughter's shoulders and turns to go back inside. I follow a few steps behind. Looking over my shoulder, I watch as Winston is led to the stables, an unhappy Egon at his heels.

I haven't been in a proper building in ... well, ten years. This one, in fact. A reception desk sits up against a wall displaying three working widescreen televisions. The waiting area is clean, with comfy chairs, and small tables with fresh flowers; somewhere in the room, coffee is brewing. God, I haven't smelled coffee in ages. It's one of those goods that has a hard time getting across the country because of the demons.

A blonde woman sits behind the steel desk, her hair pulled tightly back from her face and tied into a voluminous ponytail. She looks up as we enter, shock smacking her like a board across the face. A red brand peeks above the collar of her blue blazer.

Hmm ...

A warning bell chimes softly in my ear. I don't like the look of that.

Kayleigh's mother pauses by a set of double black doors and looks over her shoulder at me. "I just have to make a quick stop, first, if you don't mind?"

I glance around the room. There are a few magazines I can keep myself occupied with—chances are high that I've never read anything in here before. "I can wait here."

The receptionist and doctor exchange a brief look. "Oh, no need to do that, dear. It will just take a minute. It's on the way to my office."

A growing suspicion tickles the back of my head. I do a quick inventory of weapons on my person: eight knives, two flash-bangs, and my blood magic. I should be good if something happens.

"Fine," I grouse.

"Good!" the doctor exclaims brightly and pushes the doors open, revealing a stairwell.

Gritting my teeth, I stuff my hands into my belt, fingertips brushing against the thin handle of a thumb-sized throwing knife hidden there.

We descend a black staircase not one—not two—but three floors down. The unease I'd felt earlier begins to boil in earnest in my belly the further down we go. Kayleigh is oblivious, gripping her mother's hand tightly and chattering about her adventures.

The stairwell opens into a long hallway. At the end of it is a large set of carved wooden doors. Two men in crimson armor stand guard.

My mouth goes dry and my knees buckle slightly. Trap, trap, trap! I spin in a whirl of fabric, only to run face-first into a tall man in blood-colored armor. Instinct takes over and I stab upwards with the thin knife. It ricochets off of the armor, screeching as it does so.

A jolt of electricity shoots through my body and I go down on the floor in convulsions. Every nerve and muscle is on fire. I jerk and spasm on the cold tile, limbs moving in ways they'd never do if under my control. Distantly, I hear Kayleigh cry out.

After what seems like an eternity, my body stops moving and I lay flat on my back, drool flowing out of the corner of my mouth. A pair of shiny black ankle boots and the hem of a white lab coat drift into view.

The doctor leans down slightly, hands in her pockets. She tisks and shakes her head. "One does not refuse an audience with Lord Ehtab."

Ehtab!? my mind cries out because my lips can't move. Ehtab is here?

Of all the stupid, foolish things. I've let myself be drawn into a demon lord's lair.

The doctor tips her head slightly, examining me. She straightens. "Pick her up. We can't keep His Lordship waiting."

Rough, gloved hands stuff under my armpits and drag me to my feet. I bobble and nearly slip out of the guard's grasp. My ankle twists beneath me and I bite back a cry of pain.

"Oh, and have her wipe her mouth. We can't do much about the sheikh clothes."

The second time I'm lifted to my feet, I'm steadier, though my right foot hurts a little. What the hell did they hit me with? A taser? Cattle prod?

"Do as the doctor says," the man behind me orders.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumble, raising one wrist to wipe away the drool.

Grasping me beneath the elbow, my guard marches me towards the wooden door. I stumble as we approach, but it has more to do with fear than with the aftereffects of an electric shock.

"Go," the man says roughly, shaking me so hard that my head scarf falls back. Heavy blue hair spills free from its confines, flowing around my shoulders.

Kayleigh's mother turns around briefly. "Impressive," she notes, clicking her tongue.

"Mom? Mom, what's going on?" the kid asks.

"Shh, sweetie, you'll see soon."

"I ..."

The doors swing open and I catch a glimpse of a massive, cavernous room before being frog-marched down a set of black marble stairs. The smell of sulfur is so strong that my eyes immediately begin to water and I start to cough.

When we reach the bottom, I'm allowed to catch my breath—which I then promptly lose upon hearing a new voice.

"Xenia." The voice is deep, masculine, and not human.

Heart thudding in my chest, I force myself to look up.

Demon Lord Ehtab, the ruler of the City of Dust, sits on a raised dais opposite a pool of liquid night on a massive throne. A hundred torches with blue-black flames illuminate the chamber, reflecting off of the crystalline throne with a stylized, snarling dragon hovering over Ehtab's head.

Two huge basins filled with flames sit on either side of the throne. A row of dozen pillars in various shades of purple and red sit behind the throne, each holding some sort of stone gargoyle perched on the top.

And then there's Ehtab himself.

I've seen demons—both lords and lessers—on TV before, but I've never seen one in person. God, they are much more terrifying. I hear Kayleigh begin to cry.

Ehtab is a giant, easily nine feet tall. His skin is a dark purple, like spilled wine. A pair of folded bat-like wings rustle behind the demon lord as he leans forward on his throne.

"Who do we have here, Xenia?"

My knees buckle again as Ehtab's head comes into the light cast by the two cauldrons. It is big and brutish and vaguely bull-like, but with a monstrous twist. Two massive black horns veined with purple and gold jut outwards and up, like a Spanish fighting bull. The demon lord's eyes glow like two amethyst flames, sunk deep into his bestial skull.

"My lord," the doctor says, dropping to her knees and dragging her daughter down with her. "I've brought my daughter, as promised."

Ehtab sniffs the air, bovine nostrils flaring. "And the Hunter?"

"Merely the means to get my daughter here."

"I see."

Ehtab grips the arms of his throne, black claws digging into the crystalline structure. Heaving himself to his feet, the demon lord descends the dais, all the shadows in the world doing nothing to hide the fact that he is completely naked.

I flinch, but the guard presses a hand between my shoulder blades, forcing me to the tiled floor.

As Ehtab walks toward us, he begins to shimmer like a heat wave across the California highway. By the time he reaches the end of the black pool, he has shrunk to man-size and has taken the guise of a handsome, middle-aged businessman of vaguely Eastern European ancestry—complete with a simple black suit.

Walking over to Kayleigh, he leans down and lifts her chin with one finger. The kid's sobs echo through the chamber. Anger burns in my chest, building higher and higher.

"Does she bear the mark?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Take off her shirt."

The kid's protests are muffled as her mother puts a hand over her mouth and twists her around so that her back faces the demon lord. Two men in red armor appear out of the shadows; they each grab one of the kid's arms. One of them reaches down to grab the hem of her shirt.

"Oh, hell no ..." I hiss, shifting to put a foot beneath my body.

"Don't even think about it."

Out of the corner of my eye, electricity crackles between the tines of a taser. Fear splashes cold water on the fires of my fury and I sink back down to the floor, powerless to stop the horror in front of me. I'm helpless, a feeling that I haven't known in many, many years.

The doctor keeps a hand over her child's mouth but uses the other to keep the front of her shirt from rising. She's just as much of a monster as any that I've killed, but at least she's preserving Kayleigh's dignity.

Ehtab cocks his head as he stares at the white birthmark, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. Slowly, he withdraws one hand and traces the lines with one finger. "Iota and chi," the demon murmurs. His finger moves from side to side. "Who was her father?"

I watch as Kayleigh struggles against the guards' hold. Her expression shifts from terror to confusion.

"Zerachiel, my Lord."

"I don't know that name."

"A lesser angel, my Lord."

Ehtab sticks both hands back into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels. It is such a human-like movement that I briefly forget that all of this is an illusion and he is a giant purple demon.

"Her father could be the Archangel himself and it wouldn't matter in the least to our plans, Xenia. The spell requires the blood of an angel and that is what we have here." He waves a negligent hand in the air. "You are dismissed. Take her to your quarters and prepare the child for her new role. We have only a few days until the full moon."

The doctor bows to the demon lord and then gets to her feet. "Come, Kayleigh." She removes her hand from the girl's mouth, who instantly fills Ehtab's chamber with screams of protest. Together with the two guards, mother and daughter exit the room, leaving me with the demon lord.

Ehtab watches them go, then turns back to his throne. Just as I'm allowing myself to believe he's going to forget about me, the demon lord pivots dramatically.

"Hunter!" he exclaims, strolling up to me.

Sweat beads on my forehead, under my armpits, and down my back. Ehtab's human nostrils twitch in response.

"So, that leaves you, Hunter. Rise," Ehtab commands, making a short gesture with one hand.

Keeping one eye on the taser-wielding guard, I slowly get to my feet and look the demon lord in the face. Behind the smooth, tan skin, noble, aquiline nose, and perfect bone structure burns the fires of hell. I can see it flicker in Ehtab's blue eyes, a constant reminder of the immense power this creature wields not over me—but an entire chunk of California.

"Have you grown attached to the child, Hunter?"

I don't know what he's looking for, so I put on my most bland expression and answer, "Part of the contract was to see her safely here—my Lord."

One of Ehtab's black eyebrows rises in appreciation. "Indeed. And you are looking for payment, yes?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Ehtab nods absently and begins to pace in a slow circle next to the black pool. I watch him like a hawk, nails digging into my palms. Why did I have to keep my gloves on? All I need is a small cut to activate the blood magic. It might not be enough to overpower a demon lord, but at least it would distract him long enough to flee.

"Tell me, Hunter, do you like killing monsters?"

Is he testing me? I don't know and it's terrifying. Swallowing hard, I try and answer as calmly as possible. "I do what I must to survive, my Lord."

"Ah," Ehtab murmurs meditatively. "I agree, Hunter. We must all do what we can to survive, yes? And that is precisely what I am trying to accomplish. Do you know what it is like in Hell, Hunter?"

"No, my Lord."

"It is a plane of desolation and despair, a realm of punishment and torment—as much for the human souls residing there as it is for us." He steps forward dramatically to clench a fist inches from my face, smiling as I flinch. "And when these foolish, stupid humans opened the first portal, I and my brethren jumped at the chance to shed our chains and make a new world for ourselves."

Trickles of Christian mythology rise in my memory. I lick dry lips nervously. "So ... where's Satan?"

Ehtab scowls at the mention of the fallen angel's name. Then, like the flickering of a flame, his expression shifts to a smirk. "Bound to his throne."

The demons managed to bind the Devil himself to his throne? Just how powerful are they? Swallowing hard, I open my mouth, ready with another question, but Ehtab continues speaking instead. "I believe I shall have you bear witness to the ceremony," he says reflectively. "How does that sound?"

It's suicide to refuse. "I ... I would be honored, my Lord," I stammer.

"Excellent." He crooks a finger at the shadows. A man in red armor detaches himself from behind a pillar, approaches the demon lord, and bows. "Remand this Hunter into the good doctor's custody. Tell her that she is to observe the ceremony at the next full moon."

"Yes, my Lord. Come with me," the man in armor says, wrapping a hand like a steel vise around my upper arm.

As I'm pulled from the demon lord's chamber, Ehtab's human form falls away and the purple beast reclaims his throne.