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cup, his hungry gaze finding mine again, a gaze that was finally clearing, refocusing. “And don’t lie to me, because my third eye is watching you, and it has a special sensitivity to bullshit.”
    Armaeus sighed, the pure unaffected beauty of his expression arrowing through me as he allowed his eyelids to drift shut. “What did the Valkyries tell you about the cup?”
    Of course he knew about the Valkyries.
    Which meant he’d been keeping tabs on me after all.
    I shifted uneasily. “They said that it grants life but also death. Death seems kind of like the important part, by the way. And they said you owed them.” I went still, my heart clutching with a sudden fear. “Please explain exactly what’s going on, Armaeus. Right now. In small words. Because in the past thirty-six hours, I’ve been chased by dogs and shooters and a cockroach in the women’s bathroom at the police station, and I’m super jet-lagged and I won’t be responsible for my actions if I seriously just screwed up here.”
    Armaeus’s laugh sounded stronger. So that was promising. “The healing elixir moves through me, repairing the muscle and sinew torn apart. The silver-headed arrows were meant for gods, not men.”
    I frowned down at him. In the subbasement of an Egyptian temple several days earlier, Armaeus had taken those four arrows to the chest and torso. The wounds had been fairly vicious, but they’d also been healed once already. At least, he’d looked like he’d been healed. When it came to magic, though, I was never really sure.
    “Um, exactly how many times do we need to put you back together again before you can let that particular hit go? Because I thought we’d covered this.”
    “Not all of it.” His breathing had evened out, and color returned to his deeply bronzed skin. Lying there in my arms, he was quite possibly the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Rich sable hair parted to either side of his face, a face that was further marked by sharply winged brows, sculpted cheekbones, lush lips, and a strong jaw. With his eyes open, he was unsettling…but when he rested, Armaeus was perfect.
    Now he spoke again. “The weapons were effective specifically because of my immortality.” He brushed a spot on his chest where an arrow had pierced him. “Remove that barrier, and true healing becomes possible.”
    “Well, okay.” I tucked an errant lock of hair behind his ear. “But you can get your immortality back, right? ’Cause that’s kind of an impressive perk.”
    Armaeus was spared from responding as the door to his penthouse office opened and the Devil walked in, complete with his own manifested breeze. “I do hope I’m interrupting.”
    I glared at him. “You could have warned me.”
    “Yet this is far more satisfying, no?” Aleksander Kreios took in the scene with one lazy glance, then turned his attention to the empty cup lying on the carpet. “The Horn of Mim. Good.” He crossed the room, then leaned down to pick up the green-and-blue inlaid box. “But what is this, I wonder?”
    Kreios weighed the box in one hand as he swiveled back toward us. Today the Devil of the Arcana Council had adopted the full-on Adonis look—long, wavy blond hair that curled at his shoulders, his lightly bronzed face model perfect, down to the naturally jade eyes, sculpted cheekbones, and firm mouth. He wore a white linen shirt, barely fastened with toggle buttons, and frayed khakis. He could have been a tour guide for a Greek island tour instead of one of the most powerful Connecteds on the planet. He fixed me with an unreadable glance, and I sensed the shift in the undercurrents of energy swirling through the room.
    I wasn’t quite up to speed on my Arcana Sign Language, however. I sent him back a glance that could clearly be interpreted as WTF in multiple tongues.
    He seemed unfazed. “Armaeus is quite correct in what he’s done,” he said. “The Horn of Mim gives life and death, and he needed both to occur. He also