Lucifer didn't believe in hope. Actually, Lucifer no longer acknowledged the existence of hope. In another form of reality, as another creature, he had known hope as well as compassion and love. His hope was to be greater than he was meant to be and to claim the creator's throne. His compassion and love were quickly burned away by ambition and pride. In the end, ambition and pride destroyed him.

Hope turned to bitterness and pride to self-loathing; ambition twisted into malevolence as Lucifer's changed reality took hold. His kingdom a pit, his subjects born of the muck of the physical world and his own prolific spawning. Those who fought with him fell with him and formed the backbone of his new domain. Others he bred in the only way he could, on the backs of deceit and violence. Creation with a thought or word was not within his power, but evil has its own allurements and creatures made from dust and bone are easy to tempt.

Fallen angels can put on a pretense of beauty when they need to and humans are quickly fooled. Demon begat demon and populated the pit. Devils begat monsters, born of the humans they seduced. Evil spread across the physical world and the weak creatures set there by the 'Great Almighty' were such tasty morsels for Lucifer's minions! Oh, how quickly they could be devoured, their lives picked clean, their strength consumed, and their souls—shriveled, rotting—thrown to Lucifer as a tribute! He lounged on writhing towers of agony and waded through rivers of despair, all formed by the souls of dirt-born fools.

Lucifer typically chose to be recognized as male, simply because men claimed more power than women in most cultures of the dirt world. Lucifer could just as easily take the female form, and had done so from time to time, but the male power and protuberance suited Lucifer better. In his natural state Lucifer was neither sex, but his natural state wasn't recognizable in the dirt world. Lucifer could be beautiful; he could be terrifying; he created nightmarish shapes to inhabit and encouraged his minions to do the same. It staved off boredom, if nothing else.

Lucifer watched the dirt world fill with humans who spent their miniscule lives eating, sleeping, fighting, and sexing. He saw them form alliances and communities and he heard them speak of love, loyalty, honor, and hope. He learned to use these notions to set them against each other and he reaped countless souls from their struggles.

Through the ages humanity had raised champions against him. Their efforts were for the most part laughable, as all they could do was remove a few demons and curses, or convince a few followers to guard their own souls against his manipulations. Some champions had greater effect—they were born not just of dirt but of divinity. Immortality was in the mix with these champions; they could see far beyond the limits of the physical world. They could see him and his creatures. These champions were dangerous.

In her prime, Inanna had been the most dangerous of all.

Inanna had laughed at his temptations and thwarted his plans. She'd destroyed his children, his monsters, his cronies and his commanders. She'd stood at the edge of the pit and challenged Lucifer to come and play with her, and Lucifer had declined—not because he feared her, but because he would rather find another way to defeat her. Because it was beneath him to engage a dirt-born creature directly; because Lucifer wanted one of his great demons to have that honor, rather than claiming it for himself; because Lucifer didn't know hope but he did know eternity, and he could wait for the perfect opportunity to destroy her.

He thought ruining Inanna's brother might do it, but his death had only made her stronger. Disrupting her relationships with her human consorts hadn't worked either; she'd just brushed it off and moved on. Lucifer waited a very long time to discover her weakness, and when he did, even he was surprised. A worthless bastard with a damaged soul, a cruel streak, and one foot already in the devil's camp—Henry Yorke was a gift.

Inanna was cagey. She didn't run about professing her love for Yorke because she knew better. But she whispered it, and Yorke heard it, and that's all it took for the truth to reach Lucifer. Truth, released into the world, will find its way into the devil's grip eventually. Yorke was easy to manipulate because he knew he didn't deserve Inanna's attention. Just a gentle nudge and Andrzej, Lucifer's unwitting henchman, did the rest. A murmur in Caedis Cruciatus' ear that Yorke might be one to take note of, and within months another vampire was born and Inanna's lost lover had become the creature she despised most in the world.

Yorke proved to be well-suited for the role and watching him grow into a true monster became one of Caedis Cruciatus' preferred pastimes. Lucifer's favorite demon presented Yorke's soul, in an ornately-carved vessel, to his master. It sat on display even now, waiting. Lucifer didn't know hope but he knew cruel anticipation, and when Yorke's body turned to dust his soul would become Lucifer's special plaything.

Inanna's grief at Yorke's loss didn't prevent her from being watchful of her human son, and Lucifer wasn't able to damage Yorke's progeny as he had hoped. Her grief did lead her into isolation from her Seraphin Nepos daughter, so Lucifer used Inanna's absence to destroy her strongest child. He also used Yorke, thanks to Caedis Cruciatus, who devised the plan to have Yorke kill Inanna's family. It was perfectly malevolent. It was brilliantly sadistic. It was easy.

Her discovery of Yorke's identity was the closest thing to a joyful moment Lucifer was capable of having. Her imprisonment and subsequent retirement from the world made Lucifer's existence much easier. Her decision to destroy Caedis Cruciatus and fight the vampire curse directly infuriated Lucifer, but he found her efforts entertaining as well. For the first time in her existence, Inanna had no clue how to defeat an enemy.

Lucifer set a watch on her and went about his business. He used her manifestations as signals to update himself on her activities and he waited, once more, for her to give him what he needed to destroy her. Yorke was in the game again. It was only a matter of time and Lucifer existed beyond time, so waiting meant nothing to him.

# # #

Their walks had become easier for Hal. He could join the queue at the shops with no discomfort as long as Lena was with him and there was no blood in the air. He insisted on taking tea at the tea shop that had formerly been off-limits, and they relaxed and enjoyed themselves much like normal human couples do. Women and their monthlies were an ongoing challenge, and Lena wondered if Hal's weakness for women was somehow tied into the cycle of blood. They still avoided shops that were frequented by females in their child-bearing years, but there's a rhythm to human behavior that, once recognized, made planning around such things much simpler. During certain times of day they could be nearly carefree in their movements.

They avoided sporting events, blood banks, medical facilities, and child care centers, because children are always scraping themselves on something. They would have avoided those areas anyway, due to lack of interest or need, so they didn't consider it a loss.

Lena and Hal spoke obliquely, or not at all, of their growing emotional attachment. Lima beans became a frequent addition to meals at Honolulu Heights, as did other foods when either professed a particular fondness for a dish. The language of love was carefully couched in terms that only the two of them could decipher.

They reduced the intensity of their intimate relationship to something more closely resembling normal human activity, as they both recognized the risks of not doing so. Hal no longer coaxed Lena to glow, taking her clear exertion of self-control as a sign that they had reached the limit of allowable pleasure in their lovemaking. He was careful not to pressure her, even inadvertently, into displaying her immortal nature. He understood that her manifestations were a beacon to her enemies and that she needed to choose how and when they should happen.

Hal also exerted self-control, refusing to pursue his latest addictive tendency unless Lena signaled her interest in having him do so. They had a conversation about the difference between usage and mutual satisfaction and laid out some ground rules, including a signal word that Lena could use when she thought Hal was getting a bit selfish. She simply called him Rochester* and he immediately refocused his attention.

Alex and Tom knew something was going on between their housemates but they'd long ago accepted the madness that characterized the relationship and assumed that this was just another phase. Tom sensed a hint of danger, which Hal quietly confirmed with a simple mention of the fact that immortals of all sorts tended to be interested in Lena's activities. Tom caught the meaning and responded that he reckoned some of those immortals would be less friendly to Lena and her housemates than her grandfather had shown himself to be.

Careful maneuvering notwithstanding, the housemates continued to encourage each other as had been their habit since before Lena's arrival. At Tom's insistence they tried a double-date to the cinema; it was one place Alex felt comfortable in a crowd. In the darkened space she could claim a seat for herself or sit on Tom's lap, whichever she chose. Tom had to behave himself unless they managed to get a relatively private seat, and as time went on Alex learned that she had to behave herself too. The tangibility she needed to make out with Tom eventually led her to become visible to others. It was a victory of sorts, even though it put a damper on her fun.

Hal made it less than halfway through a movie premiere in a crowded cinema before he asked Lena if they could step out. Once they reached the lobby she could see why he'd needed to leave. The shadow of the curse was back. He knew from the look on her face what had happened and he nearly wept with frustration.

"There was too much blood," he said softly. He bowed his head and spoke into her ear as they stood together. To all appearances they were an affectionate couple discussing concession options.

"There were women. Where there are women there will always be blood," she replied.

"There was also a recent injury. Someone close. I smelled betadine and bandages."

"I didn't realize. Maybe we could move?"

He shook his head. "I can control it, but I don't want to give it a chance to—regroup. I think it best to leave."

"I agree," she said. She turned her head to kiss the side of his cheek. "Let's go home." Her contact drove the curse back. No harm was done, but a lesson was learned—they still needed to be wary.

They walked home, letting the steady rhythm of their footsteps calm Hal's frustration. He wanted to apologize for once again failing her, but he thought better of it. Lena wouldn't see it as a failure on his part; she would take the guilt for herself and consider it part of her own failure to defeat the curse. The old conversation hung between them, unspoken, as they walked.

As they neared the B&B she grew still and began studying the skyline ahead. Streetlight puddles and warped rectangular beams from windows illuminated the evening.

"I'd like to take a short detour," she said. "Just a couple of blocks out of our way. Call it reconnaissance."

"Of course," Hal agreed. He didn't ask what she had seen. He didn't need to.

They chatted aimlessly about the architecture of the houses and the steep hills on which they perched, the neighborhood in general, and the occasional blocked walkway as they wandered along. After they got home, Hal made tea and they took turns reading aloud from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

Reading together continued to interest them because their knowledge of history, often from vastly different vantage points, led to strikingly opposite opinions about what they read. Managing civil discussions on such topics as traditional roles within marriage, the value of rigid social structures, and political and cultural trends was at times a challenge. It was also a way for Lena and Hal to learn about each other, and their hunger for insight and connection outweighed their tendencies to each be certain of their own correctness in all things.

They began the "Wife of Bath's Tale" but were still working through the prologue when Tom and Alex returned from the cinema. They halted their conversation on St. Jerome's vituperation of marriage as a corruption of the flesh and his proposition that virginity was the highest form of spiritual life, choosing instead to inquire as to the ending of the film. Hal was discreetly smug about the fact that it ended as he'd assumed it would and Lena was satisfied by the character development that Alex described.

Eventually Lena spoke quietly to Hal. "I need to go out for a bit. Alone. I won't be long."

He nodded. "Be careful," was all he said.

Tom and Alex watched, puzzled, as Hal gave Lena a quick kiss. She walked to a spot several feet away and disappeared. Hal waited, silent, to learn where she was going. Moments later he knew she was in a house two streets over, one they'd passed on their walk home. He closed his eyes and followed her as she swept through the house and destroyed everyone in it. Tom and Alex jumped at the sound of a muffled explosion and ran to a window to see the glow of flames through the intervening houses. They turned in unison to look at Hal. He hadn't moved from the sectional.

"Spies," he said.

They immediately remembered Hetty's vampire attack and their realization at the time that Lena had been watched and her abilities studied beforehand. Alex started to speak, but Hal put a finger to his lips. She nodded, and so did Tom, although his eyes got cold and his eyebrows formed into a frown. He didn't like the idea that his family was being threatened again.

They heard Lena's voice from upstairs a few minutes later.

"I'm taking a quick shower," she called down to them.

She returned to the living room shortly, freshly scrubbed and in clean clothes with her hair wrapped in a towel and a comb in one hand. Hal took the comb as she sat on the sectional next to him and turned her back so he could comb her hair.

"The fire was contained," she said calmly. "No damage to surrounding structures."

"I assumed as much," he replied.

"No stragglers. May not be the only ones we need to worry about, though."

Tom asked Lena quietly, "Can ya tell us what's goin' on?"

"Sort of, yes. I have enemies, as you could probably guess. My enemies may try to hurt me. They may also try to hurt those who live with me. I'm just watching out for us as best I can." She smiled at him and at Alex. "Better to err on the side of caution—some creatures have no good purpose. Whether they were focused on me in particular or just on general wickedness, Barry is better off without them."

"Won't your destruction of them signal your awareness of—things?" Hal asked the question carefully.

"I am aware of things. I'm always aware of things," she replied. "I've refrained from dealing with things because I didn't want to leave you, but we've proven we can be apart safely for short periods. No reason for me to let demons and curses run amok in Wales when I'm right here anyway."

"Blowin' up buildings might not be the best way to go about cleaning up Barry," Tom pointed out. "D'ya suppose you could be a bit quieter about it next time you decide to go huntin'?"

Lena grinned at her friend, the once-implacable vampire killer, now respectable hotel manager. "Yes, Tom, I can be quieter next time. I was just announcing my intentions to the locals, so to speak."

She accepted the comb that Hal handed back to her and stood, brandishing it like a weapon. "There's a new sheriff in town, boys. Mind your manners or she'll throw you in the hoosegow."

Lena took her comb and towel upstairs, leaving Alex to translate to the befuddled guys. "Hoosegow means jail, you ninnies. Don't you pay attention? The word's only used in every Wild West movie ever made. Or maybe I've spent too much time watching crap telly," she mused to herself with a brief frown. She shrugged. Too late to worry about it now.

When they were alone in their room Hal revisited Lena's plan to take up hunting again. He suspected she would use her role as 'sheriff' to remove threats to their well-being under the guise of general do-goodery, but he wanted to hear her plan. He thought they'd have a quiet conversation but she subverted him by straddling his lap and wrapping him in an all-encompassing hug/kiss combination that allowed no escape. By the time she released him Hal was no longer interested in escape, so their conversation became disjointed bits of query-and-response as they made love.

"Why?" His question was murmured against her skin as his hands spread across her back and he kissed her neck.

"Because I can," she replied as she twisted to find his skin with her lips as well.

"Is that wise?" He cradled her backside in his hands and lifted her in order to reach her chest with his kisses.

"Blatant actions can hide sly intentions," she said as she raised herself onto her knees and curled around him to kiss the back of his neck and shoulders. Her hands traced his contours of their own accord.

"You would burn a forest to catch a single beast?" His hands enveloped her waist as his lips moved across the curve of her breasts.

"I would burn the world." She twisted again and was suddenly under his arm and kissing the soft skin of his side as he kissed hers.

"That's a bit extravagant."

He claimed as much of her as he could with each press of his hands and lips, her seduction of him complete as he drew her into his being, as necessary to him as blood.

"True," she agreed. "Shall I let you tell me how much damage I'm allowed to do? Tell me, Lord Yorke, how do you know when the hunt is over?" She flirted with him as she pulled herself behind him, allowing her lips and breasts to brush against his skin as she coiled around his body.

"The hunt ends when my prey is dead." He followed her movements with his own until they lay entangled with limbs combining in sinuous motion.

"So it shall be, my lord." She found herself engulfed by him as he pressed her back into his chest and slid his erection between her thighs. They spooned and she shifted so he could nestle his erection into the moist warmth of her vulva as his fingers stroked her breasts.

"What prey do you seek, my lady?" He breathed the question into her ear as he pressed further into her.

"The creatures bound to my enemy, of course." She smiled as she felt him searching for access to her body. She was eager as well.

"Not the enemy itself?" He found the entrance to her vagina just as she sat up and pinned him on his back.

"Oh, now there's a thought," she said as she settled onto Big Boy, teasing Hal by offering only her back for his caresses. She looked over her shoulder at him with a smirk. "No, I will not go chasing after those who hide from me. But our home, this city, this part of the world, will belong to me. That will be enough. For now."

He set his hands around her waist again. "You have a fabulous ass," he said as she began to move languidly on him.

"Thanks. They call this the backward cowgirl in the U.S."

"Arrogant young fools. I know for a fact that you were expert at this activity centuries before there was a U.S. Or cowgirls, for that matter."

"Calling me old?"

"Calling you timeless. And expert. Especially expert." He caught his breath as she trapped his erection with a squeeze of her pelvic muscles. "Must you torture me?"

She stretched her body along his legs as her arms grasped his ankles. "You mean like this?"

Hal quickly sat up and grabbed her sides. "Christ woman, I'm not a bloody bendy straw!"

He lifted her and tossed her forward and sideways off the bed, sprang after her, and landed on her as she hit the floor. For a moment he was a predator and she was his prey; his weight knocked her prone and he forced her legs open with his own as his erection rooted against her for access once again. She laughed and squirmed under him before she decided to 'surrender.'

"Ah, now that's what I want," she said as he slid into her. "If I could just find a way to keep you in me at all times."

"Mmmm, that would be a challenge. I've yet to develop detachable parts, my lady."

"The mind behind the hard-on is the best part. We'll keep you all together, if you please."

"I'm happy to hear it. Now, if you'll just pay attention, I'd like to have amazing sex with you." He chastised her gently as he moved in the slow, sensual rhythm she'd begun on the bed.

"If you can't hold my focus, it isn't that amazing," she teased.

"You've just thrown the gauntlet, my lady. Prepare yourself." His voice became a predator's silken promise as she hid her smile of anticipation. She was in the mood for a bit of bad, and when Hal was bad he was very, very good.

They were back in bed and spooning drowsily when he asked the question, apparently at random. "You've always protected your family from your enemies?"

"Not as well as I should have," she replied. "I learned the hard way, but eventually figured out that I needed to be both watchful and discreet at times."

"Your children?"

She turned to look at him as she spoke. "I trained Tania when she was young, and she was very strong so she didn't really need protection. Or so I thought. But I watched over my human children for the length of their lives."

"How many children have you had?"

"Five in all. Tania was the only one with real power."

"Was Henry ever—in danger—because of his parentage?" Hal spoke carefully about the son he never knew. He didn't want to upset Lena.

"Oh yes," she replied easily. "He wouldn't have lived past infancy if I'd let my guard down. There were always shadows hovering about, so Tania or I, or both of us, stayed near him at all times."

"Tania—watched over him?" Hal choked at the thought that he had killed his son's protector. What kind of monster was he?

"She loved Henry. He was her baby brother, after all," Lena reminded him. "To the world she was my younger sister, his aunt, but yes, Tania committed herself to his care as much as I did. Only after Henry's death did she go back to her own life."

Lena snuggled into Hal sleepily and he pulled her warmth to him. "Ammon didn't mention her—when he told me about Henry," he whispered.

"Why would he? Vampires aren't the only ones who know how to keep a secret." She absently kissed the hollow at the base of his neck. "Goodnight, Hal," she murmured.

Hal listened to her drift into sleep, but he lay awake for a long time. The cruel irony of his existence and the heartbreak that spread from him to everyone he touched twisted in his mind and wouldn't let him rest.

# # #

They were watching a Bruce Lee movie when Lena's dad and grandpa dropped in. The two archangels appeared as Bruce Lee froze in mid-leap. It was Tom and Alex's first experience with the stopped time of immortals.

"Turn the clock on, would you?" Lena said immediately. The bubble of non-time disappeared and Bruce Lee completed his leap. Alex muted the television. Hal noticed an ominous undertone in the energy Lena's patriarchs emanated; there was still the effervescence, but the energy carried weight in a way that seemed impossible. He was instantly wary and grasped Lena's hand more firmly.

Michael, direct as always, spoke to his daughter. "You mother would like her amulet back."

"No she wouldn't," Lena replied. Her face had become an expressionless mask.

Raphael spoke next. "We would like to have your mother's amulet so we can return it to her. We believe she would want it with her."

"You're lying," Lena replied. Her voice was as expressionless as her face.

"Very well, Lovely," Raphael said. "We want the amulet because it is too powerful to be left loose in the world."

"It isn't loose in the world. It is in my possession, in a secure location."

"Where? We'll get it and take it with us. It will be safer," Michael said.

"No."

"Don't be contrary, child. Go and get it or tell us where it is." As Michael snapped at his daughter, Hal decided that he knew where Lena got her temper.

"Absolutely not," Lena said firmly, "and I'll tell you why. Because you've asked for it. That means you believe a time will come when I'll want to use it. You're afraid of what it will do to me, so you are trying to protect me from it." Her voice softened. "It's just a vessel. It has no power beyond the value of the talisman it can carry. I don't need to be protected from it."

"Please Lovely. It killed your mother," Raphael said.

"I am not my mother."

"It killed your brother," Michael said grimly.

"No, Dad, you and I did that. His blood was on both our blades," Lena responded just as grimly. There was a long pause, a silence that stretched until Lena stood up from the sectional. "Will you stay for tea?" she asked in a neutral tone. Her father disappeared before his anger got the better of him.

Raphael reached out for his granddaughter. He took her hands in his and spoke her true name, in the old language. "Inanna. Please. Don't let it harm you. If you must keep it, don't use it."

She replied in the same language. "Grandpa, it's just a thing, a tool with a specific use. It has no power. I don't fear it, and I will use it if I think I should." She sighed and shook her head. "I will do what I believe is right and trust in myself. That is all I can promise." Her grandfather bowed his head and left. The atmosphere in the room returned to normal, but the tension was still very much there.

Alex was the first to speak. "You killed your own brother?"

"Yes." Lena sat back down and Hal took her hand in his again. He suspected that he was learning the cause of the despair that he'd felt when she bared her soul to him.

"Was it his son?" Alex didn't use Michael's name.

"Yes."

"How could you? Your own family?"

"He'd become a monster, so…" Lena shrugged. The answer was self-evident. Killing monsters was her job.

"What is this amulet?" Hal asked. He hoped to redirect the conversation into something less painful. It didn't work.

Lena shook her head as she looked at him sadly. She'd hoped he wouldn't ask, but of course now that the amulet had been mentioned her housemates would want to know.

"It's a long story, but I'll try to give you the short version. I had a brother. He was drawn to darkness in a way that I was not. My mother feared for him, for the influence of evil in his life. She had an amulet made. It was designed to carry a very special, very powerful treasure—a piece of her heart." Lena sighed as she remembered her mother's determination to save her weaker child from himself.

"She cut open her own chest and removed a sliver of her heart, sealed it into the amulet and gave it to my brother. She was certain that as long as he wore it, he would be protected. She put it on a chain around his neck and made him swear never to take it off."

"What happened?" Tom asked as Lena paused in her story.

"It worked for a while," she said. "It worked as long as he was willing for it to work, but in the end the darkness meant more to him than our mother did. He fell into bad company—he chose it when he knew better. There was a woman, Nephilim, Lucifer's spawn. Fallen angels also find humans attractive." Lena's eyes began to lighten and glow with rage as she remembered the creature who had lured her brother to his destruction.

"She convinced him to let her remove it for him, so he wouldn't break his oath to our mother. She said that the amulet caused her physical pain, and that she couldn't possibly be with him as long as he wore it. When a young man has to choose between great sex and his mother's love, the sex usually wins."

"He remembered it eventually, but it was too late, he had been too badly corrupted. He'd followed her too far, shed innocent blood for her, slaughtered children for her. He couldn't put it back on—it hurt him to touch it."

Lena's voice softened and her eyes returned to normal as she continued. "Mother knew that something had happened, that her son had been corrupted beyond redemption, that her heart had been violated. It broke her." She steadied herself before continuing.

"Dad and I—we went hunting. We found the woman and her companions. My brother's girlfriend—" she spat out the word "—told me what she had done. Before I cut her to pieces." The joy of that death rang in Lena's voice as she spoke of it. "I hoped killing the fiend and returning the amulet to Mother would heal her. It didn't. That woman was my first independent kill. Dad killed everyone else in the place. My brother was not among them."

She paused for a long moment as she recalled the destruction they had brought that day, so long ago. Her housemates waited quietly out of respect for the pain that was apparent in Lena's manner. Finally she continued. "In order to make sure a Nephilim doesn't return to life you have to destroy the heart and brain. We killed several Nephilim that day, dark monsters who needed to die. Dad took care of that part of the job so I could return to Mom as quickly as possible."

"Mom turned her back when I tried to give her the amulet. She lay in her bed and wept. I put it around my neck—my promise to honor her heart—and rejoined Dad. We found my brother and we killed him. Dad cut off his head at the same moment I quartered his body. Dad cut out his brain and I got his heart. We burned them to make sure he couldn't return. By the time we got home, Mom was dead. Grandpa said that she'd gone on and that she wasn't coming back. The pain of this world was too much for her. She could find nothing more to live for, not even me."

Lena's voice was a frayed whisper by the time she finished telling of her mother's death. It grew grim as she continued. "I returned the piece of her heart to her when we burned her body. I kept the amulet as a remembrance, and a warning against allowing love to weaken me."

"I'm sorry," Hal said quietly. His arm was already around her. He drew her in and kissed her cheek, tasting her tears.

"What about his soul?" Alex asked. "Your brother. Did he get a door? Do you get doors? Or do you just go—wherever?"

"He had a soul," Lena said grimly. "His soul went straight to the pit, where Lucifer welcomed him with open arms. He became a prince of the realm, a demon of the first order." She took a breath. "Caedis Cruciatus."

A shockwave swept through the room, as if somewhere beyond the world a giant drum had been struck. Lena's statement had stunned her immortal family members. Her housemates jumped uneasily as they felt the pressure pass through them, and the twisted grimace of a bitter smile appeared on Lena's face.

"They thought I didn't know, when they sent me to destroy him," she said. "I knew. I knew," she repeated more loudly, speaking directly to the unseen immortals who were listening.

"That was your brother?" Tom couldn't keep the horror from his voice.

"Yes. That's why I hesitated, why I encouraged you to do the ritual. I thought if you could send him back to hell, he could have some kind of existence at least." She shook her head. "In the end, I realized that he had to be destroyed once and for all. Why do the shit jobs always fall to me?" The question was rhetorical. She knew the answer—because she'd agreed to it in her youth, when the excitement of being a hero meant something to her. It no longer mattered.

"Your brother created the werewolf and vampire curses," Hal said. He was working his way through a thought process that he found quite alarming. "The most powerful curses ever created, the only unbreakable curses. Your brother did that."

"Yes, my brother did that," Lena said sadly. "That's one reason I want to exterminate vampires, to rid the world of his evil. I'm sincerely sorry for the misery he brought into the world."

"This is why your family worried about me corrupting you," Hal said as he turned to face her, searching her for the truth. "This is why you're so protective of your soul. If you ever turned to darkness, you would be as bad for the world as your brother."

Lena shrugged. "I'm stronger than my brother, so I'd be much worse for the world than he could ever be. If I go bad, Lucifer will kneel at my feet."

Hal gasped at her casual tone. "How can you know that?" he asked shakily.

"Because I'll end him if he doesn't," she said lightly. "Or her. Listen to me, Hal, and understand that I speak the truth. Whatever form the beast chooses, I will destroy it when I have a chance, and I won't have to go to hell to do it. One of these days, Lucifer will come for me."

*Rochester is the self-obsessed gentleman in Jane Eyre, a novel by Charlotte Bronte.