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in the city, still safe in your hiding place.”
    “Some hiding place. You found me.” The abandoned theater was a favorite nesting ground when she was in the city. Few humans wandered through the area, which meant lessers tended to avoid it as well. She wasn’t completely hidden, but these walls generally provided some measure of sanctuary.
    “You carried my power. It led me to you.”
    He’d put a damn tracking signal on her.
    “If I’m still in the same place then what is this?” She waved at the summery illusion.
    “Ah. This is comfort. And a little privacy too. If those little creatures Lucifer created found you full of angelic power they would have descended like vultures.”
    Meela shivered. He was right. If one had found her, it would have called others. They would have torn her to shreds and then led Lucifer to the leavings.
    “Lucifer didn’t make them. They just…happened. One day there was this little creature running around and no one, including Lucifer, knew where it came from.”
    It had amused the Master, though. He was thrilled by its vicious nature and the glee it took from the misery of Hell’s residents. He’d taken her, beating and raping her, just to watch her pain excite the nasty little thing before leaving it to feed on her.
    No. She shook her head and pushed back the memory. She couldn’t let her mind go back to that place. She had to remember to leave Hell in Hell.
    She reached out and brushed her finger against the wall of power in front of her. It popped like a bubble, rupturing under her fingertip to peel back and vanish in the blink of an eye. The chill of a Michigan winter hit her and she was once more in the decayed shell of the abandoned theater in which she’d been resting.
    She’d made her nest in a back corner, behind the last row of chairs. The carpeting was stained and falling apart, but it offered a small bit of warmth, and the cavernous auditorium made it difficult for anything to sneak up on her.
    After the bright illusion of summer, the darkness made her eyes ache. The stench of animal and human waste permeated the air. The sharp ammonia of urine mixed with the overwhelming sweetness of rodent droppings and bat guano, and her stomach flipped in revulsion. She took a deep breath and let the odor burn her lungs.
    Welcome back to reality .
    “The illusion was hiding us,” Evan warned. “They can find you now.”
    “I’m awake. I can defend myself.” The lie tasted pretty on her tongue, but she knew it would sour as soon as one of Hell’s minions arrived.
    “You’re weak. At least let me feed you.”
    Feeding. Hunger rippled through her and temptation reared its head again. She couldn’t say which appealed more, the sweet power he offered or the sweeter kiss that would come with it. The power she would take.
    The kiss was too dangerous.
    Caution trumped want. She took a step toward him and held out her hand. It wasn’t as efficient as a kiss, but the power would transfer.
    So what if this branded her as a coward. Cowardice was just another name for self-preservation, after all, and Meela believed wholeheartedly in saving her own skin.
    She ignored the knowing look he gave her as he took the hand offered.
    A gentle wave of energy washed over her and she basked in its lush and lazy glow. It filled her, fed her, gave her strength.
    It was everything a demon lived for.
    His thumb grazed over the back of her hand, outlining her knuckles with delicate circles. His touch was hesitant, as if he knew the caresses skirted a fine line. He pressed her hand between his, lending it the warmth and protection she wouldn’t let him give her.
    He turned her hand over in his and began to trace the fine lines of her palm, studying them intently as if he were a human fortune teller, seeking answers to questions he couldn’t voice.
    Her world shrank to his hand caressing hers, her forever to that one moment in time. Breathing became difficult and nothing mattered but that point of