"Alex, get your things," Damien orders as he unlocks our apartment and lets us in. "We're leaving."

"Where will we go?" I ask, rushing to throw clothes in a bag.

He thinks for a moment.

"Back to Carnâk," he says. "You know it already, and we'll be relatively safe."

"What about that Oran guy?" I ask. "Doesn't he still want to kill me?"

Damien doesn't answer immediately, and continues to throw things into his travel bag. "I can handle Oran. He caught me by surprise the last time. If he gives us trouble again, I'll be ready. Besides, he'll be more interested in the fact that one of his people is a spy than in picking a fight he can't win."

"You think that's what Maliel meant about an informant?"

"Yes. Possibly it's the same person who betrayed Sakariel. I'd give quite a lot to discover who they are."

"Why can't we just stay in the dead zones here on Earth?" I ask, unwilling to give up our current lives so easily. "We could go to England like we did last time, or...Canada, or something."

"No. Last time all I did was use a bit of power. This time I was forced to reveal my true form. It's like ringing a great bell. The reverberations will continue for a long time. Azael would be able to find us wherever we go."

"But not in Carnâk?"

He hesitates.

"Carnâk is protected in its own way. Azael may know we're there, but he and his people aren't welcome and can't enter that realm with anything but a full-on assault. He won't risk that."

"How long do we have?" I ask. I've finished packing, but I'm not quite ready to leave.

"A few hours. Travel between realms isn't instantaneous, and Azael resides in one of the deeper hells. Maliel and Yakketh likely haven't even reached it yet."

"Then there's something I want to do before we go. It won't take long, I promise."

~xxx~

It's already nearly midnight, but I knock on Dante's door anyway. They answer, wrapped in a long purple robe and looking a little more disheveled than usual.

I see the reason in the form of two bodies asleep on the bed.

"Alex, darling! What are you doing here so late?" Dante asks.

"Sorry for interrupting your meal," I say, glancing at the bed. "I came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? What do you mean? Oh--hello, Damien. I didn't see you lurking there in the shadows."

Dante's opinion of Damien has thawed over the last few months, but I still wouldn't quite describe it as warm.

"Dante," Damien nods. To me he says, "Make it quick, Alex. We don't have much time."

Ushering us inside, Dante wakes up their 'guests' and sees them out. The man and woman cast us unhappy looks as they depart, and I wonder if they think they've been replaced.

I tell Dante what's happened and what we plan to do while Damien wanders the apartment, admiring the paintings. He hasn't seen them before, and he's obviously enamored.

As I conclude my story, Dante casts a glare at Damien where he stands enthralled before their latest work. It's the painting of me they began when I was staying here.

"So he used infernal power because a bunch of ill-behaved humans barely old enough to drink called you names and waved a gun? Honey, that happens to me at least once a week," Dante scoffs.

"You didn't hear what they said," Damien counters.

"You think I can't imagine? I'm sure I've heard worse in the checkout line at the mall. This world has gotten better, no mistake, but it's still no paradise."

Damien frowns. "Paradise is boring. And the humidity is awful. You'd hate it."

"Yes, I'm sure where you're from is much better," Dante smirks.

"No. It's hot as--well, Hell--but at least it's a dry heat." Abruptly, Damien changes the subject. "Is this piece finished?" He gestures to the painting.

"Yes," Dante nods, coming to stand at his side. They admire it together.

"It's a shame we have to leave. I'd have bought your whole collection and built a gallery just to house it," Damien says.

Dante looks surprised and a bit gratified. "The shame is that you're taking my favorite subject to another dimension, and may never bring him back."

"It can't be helped, I'm afraid. Alex--are you ready?"

I nod. Tears sting my eyes as I embrace Dante for what may be the last time.

"Thanks for being my friend, Dante. I love you," I say into their shoulder.

"I love you, too, little bird." Dante kisses the side of my head. "I'm going to miss you."

I step away, vision swimming with tears. Damien holds our bags in one hand and reaches for me with the other.

"Goodbye," I say, and close my eyes as I step into Damien's embrace.

I see the glare of the blue fire through my lids.

Just as the world starts to spin and dissolve around me, something warm and solid collides with my back. I almost open my eyes in surprise as Dante's voice speaks in my ear.

"Fuck this shit," they say. "I'm coming with you."

~xxx~

"What the fuck were you thinking!" Damien yells, as Dante gets to their feet and dusts off their robe. "You could have killed us all!"

We've landed in a large courtyard with high walls of smooth stone.

Dante casts him a look. "Don't be so dramatic. We're all fine."

"Dante--your eyes. Are they okay?" I ask, worried.

They look at me. "Of course. I'm not an idiot like some people."

I'm relieved, and then almost as angry as Damien, though for different reasons.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I ask. "Shit, Dante. This isn't a trip across town, or to another country. We're in another fucking dimension, and you can't just pop back home whenever you please."

"I care about you, little bird," Dante says, and shrugs. "Also, I wasn't about to lose a potential new patron and my favorite muse in one go." They look at Damien. "It seems we have similar tastes in art. Perhaps you'd like to commission me for a piece or two."

"Damn it, Dante," I say. "You can't just leave everything behind like that. Not for me."

"No, not just for you," Dante agrees. "I was getting bored anyway, and this Carnâk place sounds interesting. I'm ready for a fresh start."

"You're impossible."

Dante grins at me and then frowns. "What's wrong with you, anyway?" they ask.

While Dante and Damien are up and about as though they didn't just cross dimensions, I'm still on the ground, fighting to suppress a bout of dizziness and nausea.

"It's the dimensional shift," Damien says. "This is actually the best he's done so far."

"Really?" Dante raises a brow.

I glare and struggle to my feet, but don't object when Damien loops a supporting arm around my waist.

"Come on," he says. "Let's go let Allannan know we've returned."

~xxx~

We're welcomed back with open arms, and Dante receives an especially warm welcome, artists being among the most revered members of Carnâk society.

To my surprise, the only person who seems unhappy to see us is Allannan's political partner, Deberon. When she proposes providing us with a permanent residence in the city, he objects.

"Providing asylum to a fugitive and a refugee is one thing, Allannan, but this is like waving a declaration of war in Azael's face. He will know they are here, and keeping the thing he wants most out of his grasp is not a responsibility Carnâk is prepared to assume."

"You worry too much, Deberon. If he threatens us, we have allies we can rely on who will come to our defense."

"Our responsibility is to Carnâk first," he counters. "Or have you forgotten?"

"Please," Damien interrupts. "If it comes to that, we will leave. There are other places--nowhere near as comfortable as your realm--but if we wear out our welcome here, we will go. Rest assured, we wish no harm to Carnâk or its people."

Allannan is pleased with this, and Dante looks curious, but Deberon's expression of nervous unease lightens only slightly.

My own feelings are mixed. I like Carnâk, and I'm glad Dante is with me. But I've experienced enough bad dreams to recognize the start of a nightmare when I see it.