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“Will someone call Azazel and tell him where to find Antares?” I mumbled, and then I went out.

The next thing I knew Gabriel lifted me from the car. The night air was cold, and I shivered as it touched my skin. I was still wearing a sleeveless shirt and cutoff pants—not exactly appropriate for winter in Chicago.

Samiel and Beezle got out with us, and I indicated to Gabriel that he should put me down. I stuck my head inside the open car door and saw J.B. and Nathaniel glaring at each other. Nathaniel’s face was bruised and both eyes blackened.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing for you to be concerned with,” Nathaniel said curtly. “I will speak with you soon, Madeline.”

“Uh, okay,” I said. I looked at J.B. “See you soon?”

“Now that your little adventure in the court is over, you’re back on the clock, Black,” he said. “So expect to see your usual letter with your pickups tomorrow.”

“All right, Cranky,” I said, slamming the door. What happened to the sweetheart I’d known at the faerie court? He was back to being J. B. Bennett, world’s worst boss.

The driver had dropped us in the same place he’d picked us up—the alley. The car pulled away and Samiel meekly followed Gabriel and me through the backyard and up to the porch. Nathaniel had been as good as his word. A shiny new door hung in place of the one he had torn out of its frame. It was probably a lot nicer (read: more expensive) than one I would have bought myself. This one was actually properly insulated and weather-stripped and everything. And bonus—Nathaniel had been smart enough to make the new lock fit my old key.

I glanced questioningly at Beezle as we all headed up the stairs.

“What’s up with Nathaniel’s face?”

“You were crying out in your sleep,” Beezle said. “And all the men in the car interpreted those cries correctly. Well, Gabriel and J.B. did. I’m pretty sure Samiel thought it looked like fun to hit Nathaniel because everyone else was.”

I felt my face redden in embarrassment. I had not wanted Gabriel to know about Nathaniel’s attempted assault on me. He didn’t say anything as we entered the apartment, and I wondered why he was being so cold all of a sudden. I realized he had barely said a word to me since Nathaniel had healed him.

I dropped my bag in the kitchen and slumped into one of the dining room chairs. “I feel like I could eat a whole pig.”

“Barbecue sounds good,” Beezle said hopefully.

I thought about the tiny amount of money in my checking account that was not Azazel’s. We could probably order out but we wouldn’t have much left over for anything else important until I got a paying job again. On the other hand, I wasn’t capable of cooking anything more strenuous than toast at the moment.

“Bring me the phone,” I sighed.

Beezle clapped his hands together in delight and flew to the portable phone. Gabriel and Samiel watched me in silence. It was eerie. Neither of them looked like Ramuell, thank goodness, so they didn’t resemble each other as siblings. But they wore identical expressions of expectation.

“What are you going to do about Samiel?” Gabriel asked.

“He can live here,” I said.

“And how are you going to explain that to Lord Lucifer and Lord Azazel?” Gabriel replied. “At the very least, he should be brought before the courts for the crime of releasing Ramuell.”

I’d kind of forgotten about that. “Technically, I suppose, he was responsible. But you know that it was Ariell who was controlling him and Ramuell both.”

Gabriel shook his head stubbornly. “The Grigori will not see it that way. He released Ramuell and created portals to draw the nephilim back. He was responsible for his own actions.”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that I should throw Samiel to the wolves? Don’t you have any compassion at all? Azazel successfully argued to spare your life when you were a baby. Why wouldn’t I be able to do the same for Samiel?” I couldn’t believe he was acting like this. Samiel was his half brother, for crying out loud.

“I was innocent when Azazel saved me. Samiel has committed a crime. That compounds the sin of his birth. He must go before the assembly of the Grigori to face judgment,” Gabriel said.

Samiel watched this argument avidly. I wasn’t sure how much of it he was getting but I already suspected that he was a pretty adept lip-reader. His eyes were wide as he turned his head back and forth between Gabriel and me.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight about this?” I said angrily. “You know I would never consent to such a thing. Samiel stays here with us. End of story.”

“No, it is not the end of the story. I have told you time and again that you do not comprehend Lucifer’s kingdom. His law and his word are absolute. There is no flexing of the rules. Samiel must pay for his crimes.”

Gabriel was white as the moon as he said this, and the corners of his eyes looked tight. Something else was going on.

“This is not about Samiel,” I said. “What the hell crawled up your butt and died? You’d think you’d be happy and grateful that I saved your ass from being used by Amarantha for all eternity.”

“I am indeed happy and grateful, mistress,” Gabriel said tightly.

“What’s with the mistress business?” I said.

“I was Azazel’s thrall until I was taken by Samiel and given to Focalor. Then I was Focalor’s thrall. Then I was Amarantha’s thrall. You have won me from the Maze as your prize; therefore, I am now your thrall,” he shouted.

I looked at him in dawning comprehension. “You belong to me now.”

“Yes.”

I shrugged, relieved that this was all he was upset about. “So I’ll free you, and that’s that taken care of. No big.”

Gabriel stalked forward, his eyes an exploding field of stars on a canvas of black. “You do not understand. It is like you deliberately choose not to understand. How many times must I tell you that Lucifer’s law is the only law? I am a thrall in his kingdom; therefore I am always a thrall. You cannot free me. Only Lucifer can do that.”

“So I’ll ask him to free you,” I argued.

“Which he will not do. It would set a dangerous precedent.”

“Well, so the hell what?” I shouted, losing my temper. “Isn’t it better to be my thrall than Azazel’s or Amarantha’s? You know I won’t abuse you like they would. I’ve always treated you like my equal anyway.”

“But I am not your equal,” Gabriel said, and his jaw was clamped tight. “I will never be your equal. And do you think that I could stand before you as a lover, knowing that I am always below you, that I must submit to your will above my own? Could you accept me thus, never knowing if I was telling you what was in my heart or just what you wanted to hear?”

The anger ran out of me in a rush, my temper deflated. I hadn’t thought about Gabriel’s status in those terms, or really thought about it at all. I’d been so focused on getting him back, and yes, I’d pictured a lot of happy canoodling once we were reunited.

But I didn’t think I would be his mistress. I didn’t think that he would be my slave. It didn’t matter if I treated him as an equal. The fact of his thralldom would always stand in our way.

“Now do you see? You may have kept me from Amarantha, but now my status is a bigger impediment than before. At least before I felt I could speak my feelings to you freely, even if I was unable to act upon them,” he said bitterly.

“You still can,” I said fiercely. “Nothing is going to change between us.”