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term ‘counsel,’ since I’m here to give you the benefit of my experiences with both the Carrie Fay world and Abaddon.”
    It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her what was the difference, but I managed to stifle that urge. “Magoth had that huge mirror put in my room simply out of perverse pleasure. He insists on pretending he can’t remember that I don’t have a reflection even though we both know better.”
    We emerged into a vast open hall, high Gothic arches soaring over our heads. The air was cold, just as it was in all of Magoth’s domain, my room excepted. I rubbed the goose bumps on my bare arms, wishing for a space heater or thick down comforter. “Which room did he say the ceremony was being held in?”
    Sally gave me a look that spoke volumes. “I’ve never been one to offer unsolicited advice, but I feel compelled by the bonds of our friendship, and the fact that I will soon be a colleague of your master, to break that rule just this once. You are about to become Magoth’s consort, recognized by all members of Abaddon as such, and bestowed with powers and responsibilities appropriate to such a lofty position. Given all that, you really should make more of an effort to listen to him when he speaks.”
    â€œI tried that once. It gave me a migraine.” I narrowed my eyes as I thought. “Library?”
    â€œOratory,” she said with a shake of her head.
    â€œFigures. He loves that room. He used to act out all of his old movies in there because the acoustics are so good. I have no doubt he’ll ham it up this time, as well.”
    Sally didn’t say anything to my flip comment, but censure was heavy in the air.
    Like the rest of Magoth’s domain in Abaddon, the oratory—which reflected more the original interpretation of the word (a place where one speaks) as opposed to the religious interpretation—was built with chilly walls of black basalt, and floors of even colder marble. I hadn’t been to any other parts of Abaddon, but I assumed the cold was just one of Magoth’s personal quirks and not a reflection of the general temperature of the place many mortals thought of as Hell.
    Taking a deep breath before the double doors that led to the oratory, I lifted my head and threw open the doors, hoping against hope that none of the other demon lords had decided to come to the ceremony.
    The room was packed, standing room only.
    â€œ Agathos daimon, ” I murmured under my breath at the mass of bodies filling the room.
    â€œMy Latin is a bit rusty, but doesn’t that mean ‘good spirit’?” Sally asked, peering over my shoulder at the crowd. “Oh! How lucky! It looks like everyone has shown up.”
    â€œ ‘Lucky’ isn’t quite the word I was going to—oh, gods.”
    Despite my hope that the ceremony was going to be as unobtrusive as possible, the sight of the room full of people didn’t depress me. After all, I reasoned, what did it matter if all the demon lords and their minions watched while—clad in a scanty outfit straight out of Magoth’s twisted sexual dreams—I formally agreed to be his consort? Once the ceremony was over, I’d return to the mortal world, give Magoth a lecture about behaving himself, and send him on his way before flinging myself into Gabriel’s arms.
    That was the first thought that ran through my sorely abused brain when I saw the crowd. But then I got a better look at who stood on the far side of the room, and I stopped dead in my tracks, wanting to turn around and run back to my room. “That bastard.”
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œMagoth. He invited the dragons.”
    She pursed her lips as she gave me a critical once-over. “Didn’t he say he wanted your dragon here?”
    â€œYes, but he was so damned happy about the prospect of getting access to the mortal world, he agreed to not invite the dragons for the