I knew he was there before I turned my head. I smelled him. Not sulfur or death. No, I smelled freshly popped and buttered popcorn. I turned to see him toss a few dripping yellow kernels into his mouth. “Thanks for the invite. That was quite a show.” He grinned. “Heaven, Hell, and a fireworks extravaganza. What more could you want? I’ll bet you scared the ass feathers off those parrots from Upstairs.”

Zeke had put his hand on his shotgun by his leg, but then I could see the memory in his pale green eyes of what had happened at the bar the last time he’d fired at Eli and Solomon. He could fire as often as he liked and he still wouldn’t hit the demon. Solomon and Eli were simply too quick for a human body’s actions and reactions—when they were prepared. There was no chance that Eli wasn’t prepared now. He, like Solomon, had already made that mistake once before with me and ended up with a pool cue through his abdomen. He wasn’t going to be unprepared again. Zeke knew it and only rested his hand on the gun instead of yanking it up to fire. Eli’s grin became mock solemn. “You can learn. Not fast, but you can learn. Good for you.” He extended the bag of popcorn toward Zeke. “Treat? Go on. A nummy-num for positive reinforcement?” Zeke ignored him, and you truly haven’t been ignored until you’ve been ignored by Zeke. As far as he was concerned, Eli had been plucked from the fabric of existence itself. The seat was empty and a demon called Eligos didn’t exist. Never had. Unless he made a hostile move.

Eli offered the popcorn to me instead. Who knew where his hands had been, besides down his own pants? No thanks. I turned back and watched him in the rearview mirror. “Trixa, you were a star. You glowed like the most brilliant of supernovas.”

“Mmmm?” I raised an eyebrow suspiciously. It seemed rather lame for Eli. Slick for a science geek maybe, but that wasn’t the kind of sexy Eli liked to put out. “You think?”

“One of those amazing ones that wipe out entire peaceful civilizations. Billions of lives gone in one matter-destroying radioactive glare of cosmic poison. You were magnificent.” Happy as a serial killer with a full dungeon in his basement and a week off work to enjoy it, he slid down in the seat and continued with the popcorn and watching the stars above us. The convertible top was down and the sky was spectacular; I had to give him that.

Or maybe he wasn’t watching the stars; maybe he was watching for something else. Someone else—someone bright and silver. I didn’t think exploding glass would scare off angels long. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so . . . damn . . . elated before,” he said, before continuing nos talgically. “Well, there was that time with one damn unlucky bastard; a red-hot poker; four horses aimed north, south, east, and west; and the crowd cheering me on. The Coliseum was always a great place to go on vacation. Reinvigorated you. Taught you the little things in life can still make it all worthwhile.”

“As much as I’m loving the trip down memory lane,” I said glacially, “stop sending me body parts. I already hate your kind. You don’t want me hating you specifically, Eligos. Trust me on that.”

“My full name.” He flashed his teeth at me, unabashed. “Makes me feel like I’ve been a bad boy. I need some punishment. Up for that?” When I didn’t respond, he crumpled the bag into a ball and sighed. “Ah well. And I really hoped that would work. I searched for someone who resembled your friend, and he’s a big guy—it took some time. Dulled my best carving knife, but the hell with Thanksgiving, I said, and this is what I get? Not only you don’t fall for it, but you don’t appreciate the effort I put into it. That’s just uncivil.” He leaned forward again. “How’d you know? He hasn’t come back. I have a few low-level flunkies watching the place. Did he call? I stole his cell phone the last time I was around him so you couldn’t call him, but there was always the chance he’d call you. I was playing the odds.”

“And you crapped out big-time.” I wasn’t about to tell him how I knew.

He drummed the back of Griffin’s seat with one hand and tossed the red and white paper bag out the window. He could’ve made it disappear, but littering was a little sinful, right? You took them where you could get them, I guessed. Even the tiny sins. “It doesn’t matter . . . although it was still a daring plan; you have to admit that.”

“No, I don’t. And why doesn’t it matter?”

This smile was gloating. This smile said he had me right where he wanted me. “I found your brother’s killer.”

I’d known it. Felt it. The Light, Eden House, angels and demons, all of it converging together after all this time. It left only one thing—Kimano’s killer. There was a synchronicity to it, an inevitability. The moment I’d heard that demon I’d killed whisper of the Light with his last worthless breath, I knew it would bring Kimano’s murderer to me, because it was the only thing that everyone would want. Do anything to possess. Above and Below. Someone would be willing to pay the price.

I turned again and smiled at him. You wouldn’t think a demon, especially one of Eli’s rank and caliber, would flinch at the simple curve of two human lips. And he didn’t . . . quite, but he shifted his shoulders and puffed up as all male creatures do to ward off predators. “He’ll be there, then? When I find the Light?” I asked.

“He’ll be there. I’d swear to it, but we both know that would just be fun and games in futility.” He frowned, puzzled. It put a crease between his eyebrows I doubt he’d have been fond of had he been human and that crease permanent. But demons don’t need Botox, and Eli didn’t need any sign of weakness from me. “Don’t you want to know the name? Don’t you want to know, even if I won’t trade him until you give me the Light?”

“No.” I turned back and studied the stars again. “Think of it as a surprise present, Eli. So much more fun to open those than the ones you already know.”

Griffin snatched a glance off the road at me when I used the word “open.” I knew what he was thinking. If the demon was as high-level as Eli or Solomon, opening him might be more difficult than I made it sound. But he didn’t say anything and he didn’t ask me about the Light, whether I really would turn it over to Hell. I answered the last unasked question anyway. “I’m not as pure as you think I am, Griffin. Not as good. Not without a little sin myself. Maybe a lot, considering whom you’re asking.”

“I never thought you were pure.” He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “But you’re our family. You can do no wrong.”

I squeezed back and let all the feeling I had for him and Zeke show in my face . . . in my eyes. “My miracle, who went so good when your life could’ve turned you so bad.” One last grip to his hand and I added, “Angels aren’t on the state of Nevada’s endangered list, are they?”

Griffin jerked his eyes back to the road just past the time he could’ve avoided plowing into a creature of glass, holy light, and a pissy attitude. I was fairly sure he didn’t bother to brake, but the car stopped nonetheless. Whiteless silver eyes glowed as did the sweep of hair brighter than platinum. The glass wings and body were filled with a cool white light, and it still amazed me that something that should’ve been so beautiful—a crystal, metal, and glass work of art—could be so starkly forbidding when it wanted to be.

Fingers of glass imbedded themselves in the hood of my car as the engine revved futilely. “Griffin, there’s barely anything left of her now. Give my baby a break,” I said lightly.

If it had been Zeke, he would’ve ignored me and gunned it. Griffin, scowling, but obedient, listened. He slammed on the brakes until the car was stopped by good old human technology and not the angelic equivalent of the Terminator. “Where is the Light?” Oriphiel demanded in a voice less like trumpets and more like the sound of fire raining down.