"You are summoned," the short man growled, grabbing for me.

Theo wrapped his arm around me, pulling me protectively to his side, putting his body between us. "Not without me."

The man smirked. It was such an oily, evil smile; I felt soiled by exposure to it. I didn't have long to fret about that, though. The man simply grabbed Theo by the free arm, and yanked him—and me—through the tear in the wall.

Chapter 10

We were falling, sinking, spinning, our insides churning outward in a soul-rending process that sank us deep into a horrible miasma of pain and nausea. Just when I thought I was going to pass out or die (I wasn't sure which, and at that point, didn't really care), the horror ended and I dropped to a yielding, warm surface.

"Ow!" grunted the surface.

I pushed myself off, apologizing under my breath to Theo. "Sorry about that. Did I hurt you? What just happened? Who is that horrible man? How did he come through the wall? And just where the blistering inferno are we?"

"Ah. There you are. You may leave, Digan."

I was insanely glad that Theo made me put my bathrobe on. The man who had spoken strolled into view as we got to our feet. My jaw just about hit my feet at the sight of him—he was one of the most beautiful men who'd ever walked the earth. Theo was handsome—almost too handsome, with his dark, brooding looks that seemed to do odd things to my stomach—but this man was astoundingly, breathtakingly beautiful. Dark blond, curly hair framed a face that was almost feminine, with high cheekbones, sculpted honey blond eyebrows, startlingly blue eyes, and full lips that quirked as I gawked.

"You like this form?" the man asked, doing a little twirl for me. The rest of him was just as impressive as his face, but as he came closer, my skin crawled. His hair suddenly turned dark, straightened, and grew about a foot. His brow broadened, his eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw became more pronounced as his entire face morphed into that of another equally beautiful man. "Or perhaps you like this one better?"

Theo's arm slid around my waist. I leaned into him, pulling comfort from the contact. I didn't know who the morphing man in front of us was, but I didn't like him.

"No? You prefer redheads?"

He changed again, this time into a freckled, red-haired man with an angular jaw and glittering grey eyes.

Theo's arm tightened around me. "You are Bael, I presume?"

My eyes widened. This beautiful man was a demon lord, the first prince of Abaddon?

"I have that honor." The man bowed politely at Theo, then turned to me and laughed at what was probably a horrified expression on my face. "Since you have no preference, my dear, I shall go back to my normal Tuesday form."

He shifted back to the blond Adonis with no visible effort, turning to a large desk that sat behind him. I looked quickly around us. "This is hell?" I asked Theo in a whisper. "I expected something along the lines of pits of fire and a hail of brimstone."

"I detest the smell of brimstone," Bael said, pulling a sheet of paper from his desk and glancing over it. "And pits of fire make the fax machine act up. Ah, yes, the matter of the demon Nefere."

We appeared to be in the office of an affluent businessman, the standard desk with computer, phone, and assorted office-type items behind the demon lord. A comfy suede couch sat on one side of the room, while on the other a glass table held a magnificent floral bouquet. It was everything one did not expect to find as the headquarters of the most powerful being in hell.

Not that I believed in hell…or at least I didn't before I found myself standing before the head honcho.

"It seems that you destroyed the mortal form of my demon, Nefere," Bael said, giving me a smile that raised goose bumps on my arms. I looked away from him, unable to look into his eyes.

He propped himself up on the edge of the desk, waving us to a couple of chairs that sat before it. "Please, be comfortable."

I leaned harder into Theo, not wanting to get anywhere near the beautiful, evil man.

"We prefer to stand," Theo answered. "I admit to destroying the demon's form, but will point out that I did not summon it, and thus I can't be held responsible for the destruction."

"The one who summoned Nefere has nothing to do with this situation." Bael frowned and looked at the paper again before setting it aside. "I understood that the virtue named Portia Harding destroyed my demon's form?"

"I didn't mean to destroy him," I said quickly, earning myself a sharp squeeze from Theo. Obviously he was trying to shift the blame to himself, but I couldn't allow him to do that. "Hang on now! I am new to this whole virtue thing, and didn't know how to control the power. I will do better next time, I'm sure."

"I am Portia's champion. I urged her to destroy the demon, therefore the blame is mine. Although I deny your right to punish either of us, if there is to be punitive action, I must insist that it be dealt according to precedence." Theo held Bael's gaze steadily, not shying away from that dread gaze at all.

"You wish to martyr yourself for the lady, eh? I admit it is tempting to punish a virtue," Bael said, tapping a finger to his chin while he eyed me. I couldn't keep from fidgeting slightly. "It has been many centuries since I have had the opportunity to do so. However, current politics makes me hesitate to strike a blow against a denizen of the Court, thus I will accept your petition and recognize you as champion."

The muscles in Theo's arm, which had been as tight as steel, relaxed. I had no idea why he thought it was a good thing that he be punished in my place, but I wasn't about to debate the point. "You both assume too much. I am wholly responsible for my actions, and if there is to be punishment, I will be the only one to incur it," I said firmly, looking at a spot just beyond Bael's head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Portia," Theo growled in my ear. "You are mortal still. Punishment could kill you. I am immortal. There isn't much he can do to me."

"If his punishment isn't that bad, then I can take it," I argued back in a whisper.

"I didn't say it won't be bad. He can't kill me without violating terms of the peace treaty between the Court and Abaddon. Let me do this—it's part of my job."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Bael interrupted.

"The point is moot, virtue. Your champion has been recognized as your official representative, and to him the punishment will be dealt." Bael walked toward us, sketching a symbol in the air that glowed sickly black. "Now, how shall I punish you? Taking a few years of your life are no use—you will not miss a few years in the several thousand you will live. Physical pain, perhaps? A good old-fashioned medieval torturefest?"

I shuddered and grabbed the hand that held my waist. Next to me, Theo stood silent and still.

"No, I think that would be almost as ineffective, albeit amusing at the time." Bael's eyes narrowed. "Nephilim are notoriously hard to punish, since their very lives are penance for the sins of their fathers. Hmm. Perhaps I could simply wipe away your memory?"

"You do, and you'll have to answer to me," I said, driven to an unreasonable outspokenness by my irritation with my own fear of Bael. I've never been afraid of anything before, and it galled me to find myself almost sick with terror.

He ignored my outburst as if it wasn't worthy of his attention. "You know, really, it's a shame nephilim are protected under the treaty. We have need of your kind in Abaddon."

Theo looked utterly bored. I wanted to cheer at such a brave act in the face of the bad-ass demon lord. "Punish me, if you will, but make it quick. We were pleasantly engaged when your demon fetched us."