"The memory loss sometimes has a second, reformatory effect. Erasing their memories may erase the source of some of their urges. If their lives were warped by extreme circumstances, such as early abuse, then-"

"When they can't remember the abuse, they become a different person, someone who isn't a killer?"

"Which, granted, happens very, very rarely," the Fate said. "But it does happen. That's what we believed had happened here. For ten years, Andrei Dachev gave no sign of having any of the urges that possessed him to commit these crimes."

"He played model prisoner."

"Played. Yes, most likely, though every test we gave him indicated that he had indeed reformed. Perhaps even he thought he had."

"Until he went into the world again."

She gave a slow, sad nod.

"His memory," I said. "It wasn't erased after his capture, right?"

"We can't do that. We can only erase living memories. I suppose, though, that's a blessing now."

"Or else he wouldn't know how he'd caught the Nix. So I need to persuade him to tell me, by descending into a hell filled with serial killers, for most of whom I'll be the first woman-and potential victim-they've ever seen." I sighed. "Well, at least they can feel pain. Please tell me I can use my spells and my Aspicio powers."

When she didn't answer, I groaned. "Let me guess. Because they're all supernaturals, it's a magic-free zone-wipes out any racial advantages."

The little girl appeared. "Well, it's supposed to be magic-free, but if a person went in there who possessed a type of magic none of the inhabitants should be able to possess…"

"Such as a female-only variety. Like witch magic."

"Magic blocking is tough enough. No sense doing it for a type of magic that no one there will ever use."

"Hmmm. I'd rather have my sorcerer spells, but witch magic is better than nothing. Now, I guess it doesn't matter what supernatural race these other killers are, if they're power-free, but I should ask anyway."

The Fate rattled off the various races in this particular supernatural serial-killers hell. Mostly half-demons, with one necromancer and one werewolf. No sorcerers, which was all I really cared about, in case they were still able to recognize a witch. Bad enough I might have to deal with that problem with Dachev.

Next, the Fates explained how I'd get out of the hell. I couldn't just walk out or recite a teleport code-it was locked too tight for that. Instead, they'd give me a hellsbane potion. Swallow it, and I'll be hell-free.

Finally, the Fates wanted me to do some practice runs with the sincerity-testing spell. As anxious as I was to get moving, I knew time in the throne room areas was slowed to a crawl. An hour spent testing the spell could save me a lot of grief later, and it would only take seconds of "real-world" time.

"Give me the spell and I'll get testing." I glanced over my shoulder at Kristof. "I could use a partner for that."

He smiled. "But of course. A magical lie detector, just what every good relationship needs."

Chapter 40

DESPITE KRIS'S JOKE, I DIDN'T USE THE SPELL FOR revealing his deepest, darkest secrets. What would be the point? I knew them already.

Without the obvious ways to test the spell, I had to get inventive.

"Ginger or Mary Ann?" I asked.

He pulled a face. "Neither."

His eyes stayed blue, which meant he was telling the truth. If he'd lied, they go black. A growing nose would have been more fun, but apparently the spell's creator hadn't been properly schooled in fairy tales.

I recast the spell.

"The Rolling Stones or the Beatles?" I asked.

"The Stones, which I'm sure you could have guessed, if you didn't already know." He uncrossed his legs, stretched them out, and leaned back against the wall. "See, that's the problem. If you know the answer, then you'll know if I lie, even without the spell."

"Ah, I've got one. Would you rather be smart or good-looking?"

He rolled his eyes, but I held up my hand to cut off his answer.

"Hold on," I said. "There's a codicil. If you pick smart, you can't be good-looking. And vice versa."

He pursed his lips. "Define 'not good-looking.' "

"Triple paper-bag ugly. But Nobel Prize-winner brilliant. And dumb as a stump, but drop-dead gorgeous."

He laughed. "You first."

"Option B. Gorgeous and stupid."

"Oh, now, that'd fail the test."

"Try it and see."

He cast the spell. When I repeated my answer, he leaned forward to look in my eyes, then nearly toppled backward laughing.

"I don't believe it. You are serious. Either that, or my casting is off, and I think that must be it, because I can't imagine you'd ever pick beauty over brains."

"No? Think about it. If you pick brains, you'd be smart enough to know exactly how ugly you were. But if you picked beauty, you'd be too dumb to know the difference. I'd rather be happy than miserable. And I'm sure the sex would be better, too. Well, a lot more plentiful at least. Go with option A, and you might as well join the priesthood."

He shook his head, still chuckling. "Well, I'm sticking with option A. Brains over beauty for me any day."

His eyes darkened.

I sputtered a laugh. "Liar."

He sighed. "You got me with the celibacy angle."

I laughed. He lifted me onto his lap and kissed me.

After a moment, he pulled back slowly. "I need you to promise me something, Eve."

"Hmm?"

"If things go wrong in there-badly wrong, and you get into a situation you can't get out of…" He hesitated, then wrapped his hand around mine. "The Fates said if you change your mind, at any point, and you need to become an angel-"

"No."

He took my chin in his hand and lifted my face to his.

I shook my head. "I'll find another way, Kris. There's always another way. I'll have the hellsbane potion, remember? Anything goes wrong, I gulp that, and I'm home free faster than the Creator could make me an angel."

"But if you ever did get stuck-if that was the only way out, I need to know you'll take it." When I hesitated, he stroked his finger across my cheek. "If it did come to that, Eve, we'd find a way. I'd find one for us. For now and forever. I say it and I mean it. I backed down once, and I'll never do it again."

"Backed down? You never-"

"I didn't have any say in your leaving last time, but I had years to fight your decision, twelve years to say 'I want you back and I don't care if it means giving up everything else to get you.' But I never did. Not because I didn't love you, or I didn't love you enough, but because I was a coward."

"You weren't-"

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me back. So I told myself that I'd wait, give you time to come to me, and when you didn't I convinced myself that my fears were well-founded, that you'd only wanted me for who I was and what I could give you… and even that wasn't worth staying with me for."

"Kris, I never-"

"I know. Even then, I think I saw that for what it was-self-pitying bullshit. But it made my cowardice easier to justify. Then I came here, and found you, and I knew I was wrong." He smiled. "Even as you were telling me to go to hell, and trying to send me there with an energy bolt, I knew I'd been wrong. So I vowed I'd get you back, and when I did, I'd make damn sure nothing got in the way again, not your obsession with protecting Savannah, not ghost-world bounty-hunter duty, not even impossibly good-looking angel mentors."

"But you're taller."

He grinned. "See? You did notice."