Oliver and Mimi walked quickly through the scattering crowd back to where the mustang was parked by the entrance.

Mimi rolled up the roof hurriedly before they were drenched.

"You all right? I know it's a hard one," Mimi said as she pulled out of the lot. This was only the first test, the first temptation. She knew the path would be difficult, and that Helda would not let go of Kingsley's soul so easily.

Oliver rubbed his arm where the creature's claws had dug into his skin. He was beginning to realize that he might have bitten off more than he could chew with this little adventure into the underworld. But it was with relief that he saw they were wearing their old clothes again. The hideous wedding mirage was truly over. "Where were you?"

"They tried to tempt me with some fake version of Kingsley."

"Why was it so easy for you to walk away from him while I couldn't?"

Mimi thought about it. "I was... born here. Angels of Darkness were made from the clay that made the underworld.

So I knew it was just a fake. I know their tricks, which gave me an advantage." There were other signs, too, she thought. The real Kingsley was always unshaven, and the one at the wedding had skin that was smooth and soft to the touch. Too soft.

Kingsley was a glittering knife with a diamond edge, and his skin was rough like sandpaper. Even so, resisting the siren had not been as easy as she made it seem, remembering that when she had first spotted the doppelganger under the trees, she had been convinced that her love had returned to her at last.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said thickly. "I didn't know where I was for a moment. It won't happen again."

"Good, because you sure as hell don't want to get stuck down here. Besides, she's not worth it, you know. She left you," Mimi said. She hadn't meant it unkindly; she was only stating a fact. Truly, Schuyler and Jack deserved each other.

They were both disloyal and worthless.

Oliver decided to ignore the dis, and changed the subject.

"What would have happened?" he asked. "If I'd stayed with that... thing."

"I'm not sure, but it wouldn't have been pretty."

Oliver could imagine it. He would have married the siren under the belief that he was living a real life with Schuyler by his side. But little by little, the illusion would fade - not in one quick shot like today, but slowly, over time, the wraith would tire of the charade, and the mask would begin to slip. He would discover he was bound to a harpy, to a monster, that he had shackled himself to a soulless creature who would taunt him day and night, mock him for his doomed love. Thank god Mimi had interrupted when she did.

Besides, he did not want to think of Schuyler in that way.

He did not want to admit that even if he had been cured of the familiar's kiss, he still loved her. He had loved her before she'd taken his blood, and so that love would always be part of him, whether he was her familiar or not. He strove to hold on to the memory of his happiness for his friend at her bonding, when he had felt strong and brave and generous. He had been able to be truly happy for her then, and the doppelganger had taken that feeling away from him. He wasn't proud of himself, and he hated himself for succumbing to his dark fantasies. He wasn't that guy. He had given Schuyler away, had shaken Jack's hand. Oliver felt as if he had betrayed everyone by giving in to his deepest and most secret desire. Worse, he had betrayed himself. He was better than that.

"You don't have to apologize or explain," Mimi said gently. "That test, what you just went through... it was cruel."

She tried not to think too hard about it, especially since she planned to leave him down here, which meant he was doomed to live exactly that sort of misery for all eternity.

"It doesn't matter now," he said, shrugging. "Let's just find Kingsley and get out of here. Hell isn't as fun as I thought.

Let's get this over with."

Chapter Fifteen

The Bendix Diamond

Thegianttoweringredwoodswereamarvel,somethemost beautiful and majestic beings ever to grace the earth. Allegra remembered when they were planted, at the dawn of the universe, and once in every few cycles she strove to visit them, to smell the air that was the closest earth came to Paradise.

Hence the Redwood Room was one of her favorite bars in San Francisco. She was happy to find it was still the same, still a soaring space with that long, enormous bar. Legend said that it was made from the trunk of one redwood tree. The bar had been through many different owners, but since it was now housed in the hip Clift hotel, it was considered young and trendy enough that Charles would never think to step inside.

Her twin was a staunch traditionalist, and loathed such things as Louis Quatorze furniture rendered in plastic, which could be found at the Redwood Room in great abundance.

Allegra found Ben sitting at a back table, and she slipped into the banquette, feeling sheepish. Twice now she had run from him, and twice now she had returned. "I'm sorry about this morning. I didn't mean to leave so abruptly," she said.

"I seem to bring that out in you," Ben said, sounding amused. He appeared to have recovered from his earlier embarrassment. The preppie fa?ade was back in place, along with his lopsided grin. "What are you having?" he asked.

"Martini."

"Old-school." He smiled and motioned to the waitress, then placed their orders.

They looked at each other across the table, a heavy silence hanging between them until Allegra could bear it no longer.

"Ben..."

"Legs, hold on. Before you say anything, let me explain. I wanted you to see the paintings because they were of you. But I did those years ago, right when you left me." He leaned over and was about to say more, when a girl joined their table. It was the pretty brunette from the gallery.

"Hi sweetie," she said, kissing Ben on the lips. She smiled at Allegra.

"Allegra, this is Renny. Renny, you've met Allegra," Ben said, raising his eyebrows.

"Renny and Benny!" Renny giggled. "Nice to see you again. Ben said we were meeting you here. You should have told me you were his old friend when you bought the painting." The girl beamed at her and put a possessive hand on Ben's shoulder.

Allegra kept smiling and nodding, speechless for a moment, and she was relieved when Renny excused herself to chat with some friends she'd spotted across the room.

They watched her go, and Ben turned back to Allegra. "I didn't want to give you the wrong impression. Renny hasn't seen those other paintings of you. mother wanted me to put them away years ago, but I wanted you to see them. I needed you to see them. But like I said, they were the work I did right after Endicott, after you disappeared."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine...." He waved off her apology. "I know you changed me. I could feel it. Sometimes I would wake up and just... need you so much. But then I started painting, and it got better, little by little."

"And you're okay," she said brightly.

"Yes." He studied her. "I didn't want you to go back to New York worrying about me. I wanted you to know that I went through hell - but it's all right, I survived." He blushed.

"Sorry to be so melodramatic, but it's why I invited you to the studio. I just wanted you to see them."

Allegra gave him a brilliant smile. "I'm so glad. She seems like a wonderful girl."

"She is. Smart. She keeps me grounded." Ben cleared his throat. "We're getting married in the spring."

Allegra nodded and took a sip from her martini glass, forcing the cold liquid down her throat. She could not begrudge him a wedding, especially since she herself was getting bonded to Charles soon.

"I figured, why wait, right? When you've met the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with, why wait at all." Ben sighed. "Renny's good for me."

"And your family?" Allegra had to ask. Do they like her?

Does your mother wish it was me?

Ben smirked. "Mother isn't terribly pleased. She thinks I should wait."

Allegra tried not to show that she agreed with mrs. Chase.

It did feel as if Ben was rushing into this - and what was the reason for it?

"But I don't want to."

"Good for you." Allegra finished the rest of her drink. "I'm so happy for you. I'm happy for you both."

Renny made her way back to the table and sat next to Ben. "What did I miss?"

"Congratulations. Ben told me the good news." Allegra smiled as Ben kissed his fiancee's hand. She could not help but notice the diamond the size of a meteor on the girl's finger. Renny laughed and waved her hand, sending waves of light across the room. "I know it's a bit much, isn't it?" she asked Allegra in a conspiratorial tone. "I told Ben I didn't need a ring, but he insisted. It's the Bendix diamond. It was designed for his great-grandmother by Alfred Van Cleef himself."

"It's beautiful." Allegra called to the cocktail waitress. "A bottle of your finest champagne, please. We're celebrating."

Ben looked pleased and abashed at the same time, while Renny beamed. The waitress set a magnum of champagne in a silver bucket in the center of the table, and Ben did the honors, popping the cork and pouring three glasses of the frothy, bubbly liquid. The champagne was perfect: bracingly cold, tart and smoky. Allegra did not know how she was able to keep a smile plastered on her face for the entire evening, but she managed, ordering up bottle after bottle of champagne, her vampire blood immune to the alcohol content. It gave her a small dark satisfaction to hear Renny complaining of room spin after a few rounds.

As the happy couple nuzzled at the table, Allegra decided she would call the service first thing tomorrow morning.

Charles was right, as usual. She didn't know why it had taken her five years to figure it out, but it was time to move on. Ben had.

Chapter Sixteen

Holy Water

The demon children had crimson eyes with silver pupils, and when they hissed they showed their forked tongues. They parted easily as Schuyler and Dehua charged through them, but only when Schuyler put a hand on Deming's wrist did she understand why.

Deming was a doppelganger, and she faded into the mist when Schuyler touched her. It was a trap. In seconds, Schuyler and Dehua were surrounded by the Nephilim. There was a scream from a far corner, and they saw the real Deming tied to a column, flames of Black Fire nipping her ankles.

"NO!" Dehua screamed as she moved to save her sister.

But soon she too was lost under a fury of blows from their enemies.

Schuyler thrust forward with her blade, and her parry was met with the heavy steel of a demon axe. The Hell-born human laughed horribly and slashed, and Schuyler felt a cold and shooting pain as his weapon met its mark, cutting her deeply in the middle of her chest.

The Nephilim raised its axe again to finish her off, but suddenly a sword - shining with the pure light of heaven - appeared and cut the black axe deftly in half. Help at last! The new Venator made quick work of the demons surrounding them, and soon the room was filled with the smell of death and blood. The Nephilim broke ranks and fled. Dehua, blood-ied and scratched, had survived, and she ran to untie Deming.

"How many lost?" their unknown hero asked the twins.

He was tall and dark-haired, with a classically beautiful face - a cleft chin, and a dreamy gentleness in his deep-set eyes.

Deming shook her head. "They burned everything else. I was able to save just one canister," she said, removing a small golden urn from her pack.

"The Regent of Cairo is taking a felucca to the safe house in Luxor," the stranger said. "Take the back roads to the river and give this to him."

The Venators nodded and left to deliver the last of the blood spirits of the Egyptian Coven to its surviving leader.

From the floor, Schuyler groaned. The Nephilim's sword carried the Black Fire in its poisoned tip. It burned with a dull throbbing ache, as her blood gushed from the wound, pooling underneath her shirt.

"How bad?" the handsome Venator asked, kneeling next to her. "Your blood is red. You are the Dimidium Cognatus.

Gabrielle's daughter." He said it matter-of-factly, without prejudice.

"Yes," she said.

"Where are you hurt?"

She lifted her shirt and showed him where she had been cut - right next to her heart, a deep, ugly wound.

"You are lucky," he said, pressing his fingers on the wound. "A few inches to the right and the poison would have entered your heart. You would not have survived. Still, we must work quickly."

He looked at her kindly. His hands were gentle, but Schuyler felt her eyes water from the pain as he ministered to her wound. He produced a small bottle, engraved with a golden cross.