The answer I have is not the answer I thought I was going to luck into. It makes me realize just how lucky I’ve been up to this point.

“I expected it to turn into a snake or something,” I say bitterly, playing off my slip.

His lips twitch.

Then, in a completely foreign language, he strings together a bunch of hard consonants that I think are supposed to make up words. I stare blankly across the room at him, because I think he just cussed me out in that gibberish.

“In your favorite language, I just threatened the lives of your boys,” he tells me.

I lunge for him before I can think it through, sword raised above my head. With lazy movements, he blocks my wild strike with his own sword in just one of his hands, and he stops his blade inches from my neck with his counter attack.

Freezing in place, I suck in a sharp breath. My sword stays out beside me, clutched in my tight grip, as my eyes stay locked on his. The black of his eyes recedes, fading into a duller hue.

“You didn’t understand my words until I repeated them in English, dear daughter. You’ve never been good at hiding secrets from me.” His jaw grinds as he slowly lowers his sword. “Deception is not one of your impurities. It’s like you’re still gone even when you’re right in front of me. But I’ll fix that. Time in hell may restore the things you’ve forgotten.”

I say nothing, because I really don’t have an option to argue at this unfortunate moment where swords are involved and my phantom is blocked.

“And you’ll remain here full time until said memories are hopefully restored,” he adds with a smirk. “The rest you can have. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

“No,” I say coldly.

He grins. “Some things never change. You never did like to negotiate. Should we settle it then? The way we always settle a stalemate?” he asks.

I say, “Yes,” before I can stop myself, because something about him makes me far too competitive.

It’s like I need to win this argument with the same urgency a human needs a breath of air when they’re drowning. Right now it feels like I’m scrambling to break the water’s surface, yet it only seems to be drifting farther away.

He holds his sword out, the tip pressing to my chest. I take a few steps back, and he follows me, his blade never pricking the skin.

After he finishes walking me to where he wants me, he moves back to his original spot. It’s when he lifts his sword and takes a proper fencing stance that I suddenly understand the random appearance of the swords.

He saw this moment coming, because I’m predictable to him.

Apparently we once settled disputes by sword fighting.

Just freaking peachy. Why can’t we settle things with nineties trivia or an old-fashioned foot race?

“Then let’s fight for it, dear. First one to be stabbed through to the hilt is the winner and their terms will remain,” he tells me, smirking like he’s already won.

He doesn’t know how much I don’t want to be stabbed.

“Any use of powers will be an immediate forfeit,” he goes on.

Which deflates what little bit of a bubble I have left.

“And go,” he says without any other warning, swiping my sword out of my hand in the next instant, leaving a gentle clang in the air around us.

I barely recover my balance in time to see him lunge, sword aimed at my stomach. For a split second, I almost fear I’m about to freeze, but I manage to roll out of the way and collect my sword before I shoot back to my feet.

A surprised cry escapes me as pain lances my side, and I whirl around, clutching my hip where the Devil has sliced me.

A taunting grin is on his lips. “Something tells me I’ll be winning all the arguments for a while. I rather like this aspect of your memories being gone,” he goads.

Teeth gritted, I lunge for him, slicing my sword through the air, but the dick dodges me easily and slams the blunt hilt of the sword against the back of my head.

The pain that shoots through my skull is nothing compared to the indignity of me stumbling forward like an idiot as he toys with me.

“Perhaps I’ll add killing one of them to the list to see if that inspires a jump in your memories,” he drawls from behind me.

I’m not really sure what happens, but this time when I whirl around and lunge, it’s faster, more precise, and he barely blocks the swipe of the sword aimed for his neck.

His eyes flare to life as a grins spreads over his lips, and he comes down hard with the sword. I dodge it, seeing sparks fly when metal clangs against metal.

The air around us electrifies, causing all the hairs on my body to prickle and tingle with defensive awareness.

My fist flies out, nailing him in the face and surprising him so much that he stumbles back from the impact. To be honest, it surprises me a little as well.

“There’s my girl,” he tells me, eyes on me like he’s excited, as the small split on his lip heals in front of my eyes before blood even drips from the small wound. “It’s an echo of a memory—muscle memory. Try to extract the actual visual, Paca.”

He lunges hard, and my knee flies up on instinct, connecting with his torso. I slam the butt of my sword against the back of his head this time, making him suffer the indignity of it.

But…he merely laughs harder as he turns around.

“I’m about to stop taking it easy on you,” he confesses, giving me a wink as he tries to unravel my newfound thread of confidence.

He attacks first, and I roll under the swipe before shoving my sword upward, driving it into his torso. His eyes widen as I leap to my feet and ram the sword the rest of the way in, a sound of pure determination straining from me as bones audibly crunch inside him.

Despite the fact it should be agony, he doesn’t exactly scream in pain. Not even a little.

A little arrogantly, I hold onto the sword instead of running for my life as I lean over to his ear, ignoring the fact the psycho is still chuckling.

“I win. My deal sticks.”

I leave the sword symbolically stuck inside him like a bad pun, as I turn to walk away, trying not to act like it’s a big deal I’m leaving the Devil my vulnerable, real-girl back.

“If you could remember, you would have known you already have all those same amenities, sans the reborn boys having access to hell,” he calls to my back, laughing lightly. “I was just fucking with you, dear daughter.”

My teeth grit together as I blow out a frustrated breath. I have no idea what to make of him.

“Put my paintings back up,” is the last thing I say as I cross the threshold.

I feel his power melting away from me, as though simply passing through those doors broke the confining spell. Without hesitating to try, I turn phantom and get the hell out of hell.

Chapter 2

When I silently land back in the kitchen of our house and the Devil doesn’t chase me down to kill me—possibly for the second time—I breathe out in relief and sag against the island.

I need someone to slap me in the face the next time I have a ridiculous plan like that. How could they let me go through with that? Are they crazy?

Sure, I had them sent away, but still, someone should have talked some sense into me before things escalated to that level. Unbelievable.

Hearing the muffled voices upstairs, I silently grab a pan. As I go through the motions of heating the oven and putting in some cookies, I try to process.

Right now, I want to sink to the floor and hug myself for a while. But the guys can’t see that. They need to see someone who is as fearless as I apparently used to be.

Back before someone killed my fearless self and stole my precious knowledge and memories.

Taking one last fortifying breath, I zap myself upstairs to my room, where two angry glares immediately find me.

Jude and Kai are lounging on my bed, both of them training those lethal eyes on me.

“Before you say anything—”

“You wanted us to care,” Kai says, interrupting me, slowly standing to his feet.

“Of course I did. I still do, and—”

“You fucking maddening, suicidal, infuriating hell spawn,” Jude growls, interrupting me again.

“I realize I’m technically hell spawn, but I find name-calling to only be fun when I’m the one creating the names,” I say, trying to lighten their eerily similar, brooding mood.

Doesn’t work.

“Well, we care, and you go throw yourself at the motherfucking Devil!” Kai snaps. “And kick us out of hell when you know we can’t get back down there without an escort!”

They don’t usually yell at me quite like this. This is more grievous fury than the typical irritable outbursts.

“It was selfish, half-cocked, and completely unnecessarily stupid!” Gage’s voice booms from behind me, and I whirl around to find him and Ezekiel standing there, arms crossed over their chests, and heavy glares leveling me…predictably.

“But it was fearless,” I remind them, grinning, even though it’s a little forced.

They don’t grin.

At all.

“So here’s a riddle,” I say to lighten the very dark moods storming across their somewhat terrifying expressions. “Did the monsters move out of the way because they feared the creature running toward them with no visible sign of fear? Or did they scatter because they feared the Devil’s youngest and most destructive daughter?”