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Some say they were punished for their actions, and once again do Lucifer’s bidding. The Repository isn’t clear on this, though.”
    “AuntJane,” Bliss said in a small voice. “If the hounds are with Lucifer, that means we’ll have to go down to the underworld, doesn’t it … to find them? Down to the Ninth?” She shuddered at the thought of it. She had no desire to see her father again, much less to fight him for command of his dogs. Why had Allegra put this on her shoulders? More importantly, why had she accepted? She’d done it to repent for her actions, Bliss reminded herself, because whether she had been aware of it or not, she had been the vessel for her father’s malevolent spirit in mid-world. She had accepted this task to clear her conscience, to do a bit of good in the face of impossible evil. She only hoped she was strong enough. She wasn’t a vampire anymore—just a mortal girl now, with a middle-aged mortal to help her.
    Her aunt’s forehead crinkled. “I truly hope not. I hope that’s not what Allegra had planned for us. Let’s see what we can accomplish on this side of the fence for now.”
    Bliss exhaled.
    “What’s in Cleveland?” she asked.
    “NotCleveland exactly, but a place called Hunting Valley,” Jane said. “There’s a burnt house with a strange story. I think something happened there that might lead us to find what we seek.”

S EVEN
     
    “H owwas the bonding?” Jane asked as Bliss studied the papers on her lap and they drove deep into the night.
    Bliss put down the newspaper clipping she was reading about the fire. She smiled a little, thinking of the happiness she had been part of so recently, which felt already as if it had happened many years before, as if the memory was already as worn as a sepia-tinged photograph. She thought of Schuyler’s shining face and Jack’s proud one. “It was wonderful,” she said, blinking back tears, feeling a deep longing and an ache for something she knew she would never have. Love throughout eternity.
    Jane reached over from the steering wheel and squeezed her arm in sympathy. “I know you’re thinking about Dylan,” she said. “But you were right to let him go.”
    Let him go … an interesting choice of words. Bliss could never truly let Dylan Ward go. She thought of what he had done for her: kept her sane, given her the strength she needed to fight her father’s spirit, to stand up to the Dark Prince. Her sacrifice had released her link to him—Dylan had moved on, gone to a better place—but she missed him with an ache that was a physical pain. She would never heal from it.
    “One day, you will find a love as great as the one you two shared. You deserve happiness, my dear, and you will find it,” said Jane.
    Bliss sniffed, blinked back her tears. “I’m okay.”
    “I know you are.” Jane smiled. “You are stronger than you know.”
    Theydrove the rest of the way in silence, and an hour later arrived at their destination. Jane pulled the rental car up to a police barricade around the remains of the burned-out house in the middle of the street. “I think this is it,” Jane said. It was after midnight, and the streets were empty, the heavy cloak of darkness impenetrable. The only sound came from the crunching of their tires on the gravel. The night air was bracing cold.
    Theystepped out of the car. Bliss clicked on her flashlight and led the way. Once they’d reached what remained of the house, she swept the flashlight across what must have, at one time, been the living room. “What do you think?” she asked. True to the reports Jane had pulled up for her to read on the drive, only the front door was still standing. Otherwise, everything had burned to the ground, to ashes and dust, rubble and debris, covered by a light gray snow. “An accident? Arson? Or … ?”
    “Not sure yet,” Jane said. “Let’s take a closer look around, see if we find anything odd.”
    Jane had printed a story about the burned house