Everyone has patterns if you know what to watch for. Even Nicodemus Archleone.

For sure, his were harder to pin down than most. Lasciel had been around him enough to have the measure of him, but she rarely worked in tandem with him. The last time she'd served under Nicodemus and Anduriel for any significant length of time was over six centuries ago. She knew-though I wasn't quite clear on how-that he had twenty-six homes scattered all around the world. She knew that he favored ones in Europe but that he was not currently there. She knew that he'd be on business in the United States.

I knew he'd be in a large city. That was pretty much a given. I didn't imagine there was a lot of destruction to be wreaked in, say, rural Kansas. And when we'd emerged into the cold, foggy streets of uptown New York, I actually smiled.

The Big Apple. I'd never been. I felt a little tourism was in order.

When arriving in a city Nicodemus would invariably take Deidre to dinner someplace nice. Daddy liked to spoil his little girl. It was one thing I thought I could probably count on.

One hour and a hefty bribe later I had the name of the place and the time of the reservation. Jean-Georges at eight. A private dining experience.

And I was here to gate crash. I couldn't imagine that would make Deidre very happy. She'd just have to get over it. The three Denarii I was bringing in my clutch purse would probably do something to soften the blow.

I could have probably snuck in as one of the servers or went as I was under a veil. But with some prodding from Lasciel, I'd caved to the necessity of a shopping trip. I was about to negotiate a business deal, and I shouldn't do it dressed in my usual wardrobe. Arriving in the corset jacket would signal I was coming to fight. A dress would be more approachable, she reasoned. And a new hairstyle more appropriate still.

So I was standing in front of a full-length mirror in an upscale boutique, examining my reflection. The ivory floor-length sheath evening gown hugged my body, leaving very little to the imagination. Most of the color had been leached from my hair, leaving it shining platinum, with the exception of the ends, which were still tipped in vibrant color. Call it sentimentality, but I wasn't ready to let it go yet.

"We could try another," Lasciel said as I smoothed a hand over the lines that showed around my hips. I wouldn't be able to wear underwear with this thing. The price tag on it was triple the average rent in New York. It was a bit intimidating.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, my amusement tamping down on the anxiety that had been mounting all day.

"You just want to shop. I swear you're like a kid with a Barbie doll sometimes."

"I don't always get to choose my host. You are young and attractive. Why should you not take pride in the body you take care to maintain?"

I blinked. I was pretty sure my fallen angel had just called me a fine piece of ass.

Lasciel's laughter pealed through my head like the tinkling of bells. It made the smile bloom into something real and genuine.

"I'll take this one," I told the saleswoman, brandishing my credit card. The account Lasciel had set up in the Cayman Islands was about to take a hit. Hopefully, the end of the night would be worth it.

The nerves were back in full force by eight. I'd entered the restaurant under a veil a half-hour before Nicodemus was due to arrive and leaned against the corner, watching people mingle. The place was spacious, done up in shades of white and creme, with splashes of color that popped when the eye hit them. The place was dotted with tables, filled with beautiful, happy people. The waitstaff was pleasant, and prevention practically oozed off the walls. I could see why Nic liked this place.

Even in my obscenely expensive dress, I didn't feel like I fit in. There was just something so...base and uncultured about me.

Nicodemus and Deirdre arrived precisely five minutes early. He looked almost the same as I'd seen him last, though he'd swapped a black Armani suit for a gray Versace tux. Deirdre wore a black satin dress that clung almost as much as mine. Her hair was done up in a neat French twist and she'd donned a diamond choker. She hung on her father's arms and stared up at him in open adoration.

Was it just me...or was that more than simple daughterly love?

"Nicodemus and Deirdre have a...complex relationship."

Yuck. Well, I didn't have to like them. I just had to work with them to our mutual benefit. If all went well, I could arrange to keep my distance.

I waited another five minutes after they'd entered their private dining space to give them time to order and then snuck in behind a waiter bearing a bottle of Pessac-Léognan. Nicodemus and Deidre looked completely relaxed, leaning toward each other, hands clasped together as they spoke in low, unhurried voices. Anduriel swayed gently in the background, listening in.

I needed to get the show on the road before anyone got too pissed about the eavesdropping.

I stepped from the veil, one long leg showing first, and the rest of me following soon after. All three shapes I could see jerked slightly in surprise as I appeared in their midst. Nicodemus actually went for the steak knife and flipped it in his hand to a ready position as he sized up the new threat. Then they finally got a good look at me.

"Howdy," I drawled. "Long time no see."

"You," Diedre hissed, eyes narrowed to slits. I swore her hair shifted in irritation, contemplating a more lethal shape.

Yeah, she was definitely pissed at me.

"Nice to see you too, sweetcheeks. Sorry to gate crash, but I needed to talk to you. Any chance I can sit?"

I directed the question at Nicodemus. He, too, was regarding me with some irritation.

"This couldn't have waited, Miss Lenhardt?"

"Nope," I popped the last 'p' and then flashed him a dazzling smile. "And I think you'll forgive me for the intrusion once you've heard what I've had to say."

At first, I thought he'd order me out the door and set up an alternate time to meet. I was sort of cockblocking him at the moment. But eventually, he inclined his head toward the free chair.

"Father-" Deidre began in a somewhat petulant tone.

"Peace, little one. We can spare a portion of our evening. Sit, Miss Lenhardt. You have five minutes, so don't squander them."

I sank into the chair next to him and fiddled with the roll of cloth that swathed the silverware. My nerves were threatening to get the better of me again. I leaned hard into Lasciel's confidence, used it to bolster my resolve. There was nothing to be afraid of here. No reason I couldn't walk away if he said no.

The smile that stretched my mouth was more Lasciel's than my own. It was a coquettish grin, perfected over centuries to look simultaneously innocent and playfully teasing. I hadn't felt particularly playful in months. The words sprang into my mind, and I let them fall out of my mouth.

"Still interested in a partnership, Nic?"

To someone less attuned to him than Lasciel, his expression would have appeared unchanged. She caught the infinitesimal pull of muscle around the mouth, the tightening of the lines around his eyes that indicated amusement. The hungry flash of anticipation that entered his eyes for a mere nanosecond.

"I thought you were fine where you were, Miss Lenhardt?"

"Times change. And you're playing coy. Give it to me straight. Am I in or out?"

"If you'd called months ago I'd say yes. But you dallied a little overlong, Miss Lenhardt. I am no longer in possession of the coin of Tarsiel. If you'd like to wait another year or so and remain a contractor until a coin can be procured, we could discuss terms later in the evening."

"I figured that could happen. So I didn't take any chances. I went ahead and liberated one of my own."

I fished Lasciel's coin from the clutch and held it up for inspection, purposely keeping my thumb over her sigil. I'd skirt around that issue until it came up.

Both Deidre and Nicodemus' eyes fixed on the coin with a look of surprise and flickering want.

"Where did you get that?" Deidre hissed. "How did you get it?"

"I have friends. Connections. More money than is healthy for me. I sent out feelers and I found people. Money talks. And if money doesn't do the trick, there's always magic. There's a reason I was one of the top interrogators for the Fellowship."

I fished the pouch with my three captured coins from the clutch and waggled it at them.

"I like choices. So I collected a few before I decided on a coin. The rest are yours if you agree to the terms of my employment."

Nicodemus' answering smile was genuine, lined with an edge of rapacious hunger.

"Name them."

"I want the Red Court dead. All of them. From the lowest bottomfeeder to the Lords of Outer Night. I want them finished. Every trace of them obliterated. Not someday. No stopgap measures. Within the next five to ten years. I want the resources and any knowledge you can give me to do it. I've got Saluriel, Tarsiel, and Prociel right here and I'm willing to get the other ten in circulation before we strike. Does that sound agreeable?"

"Quite." He was definitely smiling now, a slow, predatory grin. I felt like he'd invite me into his parlor at any second. "Welcome, Miss Lenhardt. Or would you prefer Catherine?"

I blinked, surprised at the easy acquiescence. I'd expected questions. An argument. Maybe a fight, if he wanted to take the coins by force.

"I want your word, Archleone. No funny stuff. Not sure what you'll swear by, cause I don't trust your honor. But I want a promise."

"We will abide by this compact, should you keep your end of the bargain."

I jumped a little. Two glowing eyes had appeared above Nicodemus' eyebrows. His mouth moved, but it wasn't him speaking. The voice was mellifluous, pleasant, and androgynous.

"Ah...hello, Anduriel."

The answering smile was something alien that didn't belong on a human face. Or at least, not on Nic's which didn't seem to be built for joy. It freaked me the hell out, and Anduriel must have read that from my expression because the next second the green eyes closed and it was just Nicodemus' voice issuing from his mouth.

"The coins," he said, extending a hand for the pouch. I drew them closer to my chest.

"Tonight. We'll meet wherever you're staying and you can have them after I see some progress on the goal. Got it?"

He paused for a fraction of a second, annoyed with my recalcitrance, and then finally nodded.

"Tonight then. I will call one of the Squires to chauffer you to the current location."

"Father, we cannot trust her," Deidre hissed, unable to contain her seething fury for an instant longer. "This showboating child is-"

I swiveled in my seat to face her with a scowl. "Look, lady. You don't have to like me. But you're gonna put up with me. If not, I'll take the coins and go elsewhere."

She raised those dark eyes to glare at me. I glared back just a fraction of a second too long. I was mentally cursing myself as I was drawn into a soulgaze with one of the last people on earth I wanted to take a peek at.

Deirdre's mind resembled an old, well-kept villa, situated on a hill, overlooking the rolling Roman countryside. I took a cautious step forward, waiting for the struggle, the resistance I sometimes met when I gazed someone who didn't want me to.

Nothing. I made a mental note not to touch anything. I was sure Deirdre's Fallen could put up more than the feeble resistance I'd met in merely human minds.

It was difficult though. Deirdre's mind was beautiful, labyrinthine, and sharp. I wandered the halls, my footsteps making little sound on the tiles. There was a bookshelf situated along one wall. It struck me as odd, and a little anachronistic, to have bound books in a house that otherwise looked like it belonged in Ancient Rome. I studied the titles. Some I recognized. Aristotle, Plato, Nietzsche, Descartes, and more. Others were completely foreign to me. Either they were people and works lost to time, or so obscure they'd never landed in a history book.

And it wasn't just philosophy on Deirdre's mental shelves. There were other things too. Plays, poetry, and some of the more recent classics that I'd been forced to read in school were in the mix as well. But by far the biggest volume in the bunch was a red, leather-bound journal. The poor thing was battered, dog-eared, and nearly falling apart. It must have been her go-to, a favorite for many years. I bent to read the title. Scrawled across the spine in gold filigree were the words: Words of Wisdom by Nicodemus Archleone.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She really was a daddy's girl. Nicodemus was everywhere in Deirdre's mental landscape. His bust was on a pillar in the hall, arranged in a mosaic on the floors, and on the fresco on a far wall. I wondered idly if my own father played as big a part in my brain. Was there perhaps a book labeled Life Lessons by Michael Carpenter on my bookshelf?

I walked past the fresco with the sensation that even here, Nicodemus was watching me. Deirdre was seated in the courtyard, reclining lazily against someone on a bench. Her body molded perfectly to his, and she leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder like he was a trusted friend or lover. It might have looked romantic if their wrists had not been manacled together. The chain wound slowly, inexorably around Deidre's arm. She didn't seem to mind it. She didn't glance up at me as I approached, but the man did.

His face was covered by a thin, grey veil. I could only make out vague, humanoid features beneath its surface. Even so, I could tell its stare was not friendly. It lifted a hand toward me and I was literally shoved from the garden and back into my seat at the table in Jean-Georges. I was breathing hard, as though I'd just run a marathon. Deidre looked a little shaken but recovered herself quickly. She exhaled a dry little snort.

"Fitting. She chose Lasciel."

I wanted to throw up. Stupid, stupid Molly. Why had I looked her directly in the eye? I knew better by now. And she'd seen...something in me. She knew enough to recognize Lasciel when she peered into my head. What did it look like in there?

I had an oddly erotic mental image of my body tangled with Lasciel's, bare and wreathed in violet smoke, bound together by gauzy lilac scarves. Something deep in my body tightened but I shoved the unexpected and the unwelcome desire away. So, so not the time to discover if I had an angel kink.

I waited for the realization. The big 'a-ha' moment where Nicodemus realized who I was. The finger-pointing, the fighting, the revocation of his offer.

It didn't happen. He just smirked.

"Fitting indeed. Now I hate to be a boor, but we were having a private dinner, Miss Lenhardt. A Squire should be by to pick you up soon. We will speak later."

I took the dismissal gratefully and all but ran for the door.

The sick feeling didn't fade until I was shut into one of the rooms in a townhouse in the Upper East Side.

I'd done it. I'd gotten my promise. Secured my allies. Now all that was left to do was act.