The Devil, with a malicious smile, watched the one-time friends combat each other.

“The opportunity has arrived,” Livia shouted to the Dark One. “You want to spill my blood? Here it is.” She spread her arms wide.

When the Devil hesitated, she called, “The greatest evil ever known, afraid of one mortal. How unbearably sad.”

Snarling, the Dark One plunged through the door. They faced one another on the blasted, charred plain.

His elegant human façade flaked away, revealing the twisted, monstrous face beneath. Pieces of his disguise still remained, so that his visage was a patchwork of man and monster. One half of his mouth was full of jagged fangs, the other still had the graceful curve of a courtier’s lips. Rotted flesh appeared beside smooth skin. But his eyes, white and burning, those were the same.

He stared at her with those blazing diamond eyes. “A valuable lesson you’ve taught me, Valeria Livia Corva. Never again will I allow any mortal to attain so much power. Their nuisance far outweighs their usefulness.”

Through the portal, she saw Bram and John, locked in battle, their blades crashing together in a torrent of flame.

“As though you’ve a say in the matter.” She circled him, all the while silently, frantically working to build a spell. Taken from Vulcan’s forge. The incantation formed links, hammered with the force of her will. She prayed she lasted long enough to complete the spell. “When you’ve no true power of your own. All you can do is ride upon the backs of others, like a child being carried through the marketplace, his legs too short and weak to hold himself.”

Bellowing in rage, the Dark One swept his arm into the air. Burning rocks tore up from the ground and flung themselves at her. Livia could not build her forging spell and also shield herself from the attack. All she could do was crouch down, covering her head with her arms, as red hot stones showered down on her.

Pain blanketed her in searing profusion. Her gown offered no protection, and she caught the smell of burning silk and flesh—both her own.

The bombardment finally stopped. Raising her head, she saw angry, blistering burns all over her body. If she thought she might survive this, she’d be permanently scarred. But she knew she wouldn’t survive.

Rising up, she glanced toward Bram and saw him continuing to fight toward her. Seeing him, she found a small pocket of unused magic within herself, as the rest worked to shape a chain of power. With a shout, she pulled fire from the sky. Tongues of flame spun down and engulfed the Dark One, covering him with flames.

The conflagration solidified, as though frozen, and shattered apart. The Devil laughed as he shed the effects of her spell like a man dusting snow off his shoulders.

“This is my kingdom.” He chuckled. “You may as well try to drown a shark.”

He flicked his fingers. Knotted vines emerged from the ground and snaked up her legs, pinning her in place. Before she could attempt another spell, the vines wrapped around her chest and arms, binding her. She hissed in pain as the vines dug into the burns covering her body, then lost her breath as the vines tightened, squeezing her like bands of iron.

The Dark One ambled toward her. He shook his head. “All of that knowledge, the years of study. None of it served you.”

Livia fought for consciousness. She needed to remain alive long enough to complete her spell. “Able to . . . command you like . . . a dog.”

When the Devil snarled, more of his human disguise peeled away, revealing further his hideous face. “Had you paid greater attention in your studies, you would have learned that no one defeats me. It cannot be achieved.”

“Done it . . . three times.”

“Temporary impediments.” With one clawed hand and one human hand, he tore at the remaining pieces of mortal flesh clinging to his visage. A monster stood before her. “Too much evil exists in the world. The ground is fertile. So long as mankind persists, so do I. Even in your own heart, I’m there. In your greed, your pride. I am always part of you. Part of every mortal. And I will never. Be. Vanquished.”

With each of these final words, the vines around her tightened. Her vision dimmed and she felt something crack. No! If only she had a little more time. The spell was nearly finished.

The living cage around her abruptly loosened, and she fell to the ground. Body screaming with effort, she looked up, and nearly wept.

Bram was here. He’d blindsided the Dark One and thrust his sword through the Devil’s shoulder. It had been enough to break off the attacking vines.

He’d never looked more glorious, more deadly. The Dark One turned, and the sword tore from his putrid flesh. He slashed with his claws, and Bram used his blade to parry. Bram’s sword gleamed bright in the thick waves of heat. The Devil struggled to hold him back, flinging wave after wave of burning debris and conjured blades.

John stood on the other side of the portal, watching, clearly torn between staying in the mortal realm and going to the assistance of his master.

Bram countered the Dark One’s deadly attacks, but he couldn’t block them all. He bore each wound with grim endurance. Fury tightened his face, an anger she had never seen. Even the rage he had felt when fighting in the war, witnessing the wanton death and ruin—that was nothing compared to the wrath he showed now.

For all his strength and skill, his opponent was powerful, and he took wounds over his face and body. Yet he never relented, continuing his attack, sweeping and stabbing with his blade even as blood dripped from his face, his hands.

As she lay sprawled across the smoldering ground, Livia gathered the last of her magic. She hammered together the final link in the chain. With the last piece completed, the chain glowed to life, becoming visible. It coiled beside her, heavy and solid, forged from the strength of the blacksmith god. Thick shackles the width of an ankle were attached at each end of the chain.

She focused all her power, and the chain rose up like a serpent. Muttering a Gallaecian incantation, she guided the chain toward the Dark One. But her intended target kept moving, avoiding Bram’s attacks. She hadn’t the strength to chase the Devil, and the chain began to lower closer to the ground.

Bram saw her struggle, and renewed his assault. He backed the Dark One toward her.

Too occupied by Bram’s assault, the Devil did not notice the binding until it was too late. She fastened the shackle around his ankle.

Screaming in anger, the Devil clawed at the fetter. Yet she had done her work well, and the binding would not come off.

John hovered, hesitating, at the portal. He moved to cross the portal to help the Dark One.

As the Dark One struggled, Bram crouched beside her. Concern dug deep lines into his face as he carefully gathered her up. Her wounds must have been terrible, for as Bram gazed at her, his eyes took on a wet sheen.

“Tell me what I can do to help,” he said, hoarse.

She had reached the limit of her strength. “Take the other manacle. Fasten it to my ankle.”

His brows drew down in a sharp scowl. “Binding you to him.”

“Has to be. Need a mortal to bind him. Keep him imprisoned. In Hell.”

“Then I’ll do it.” He reached for the shackle.

“No.” She struggled to stop him, yet her arms refused to move.

“I goddamn love you, Livia,” he snarled. “So don’t tell me to trap you here in Hell. It won’t happen.”

“Someone has to anchor him.” The effort it took to speak made her dizzy. “Cannot let it be you.”

For a moment, he only frowned at her. Then his eyes narrowed, his expression turning shrewd.

“What—?”

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then gently laid her down. She levered herself up, watching him as he stood and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Know why the other Hellraisers turned against you, John?” he called toward the portal. “Because you were never one of us. Not truly. We pitied you. No one else would have you. Skulking around Whitehall like a beggar. An outcast.”

John remained at the doorway, though he still did not cross the threshold. “The four of you were privileged to have my company!”

Bram gave an ugly laugh. “Tell yourself whatever lies you require. But the truth persists. Without the Hellraisers, you would have been another forgettable man, scrounging for crumbs of recognition. Forgotten. Hell,” he sneered, “you always had to pay for your quim. No woman would willingly spread her legs for you. Only your coin could make them endure your rutting.”

With a jackal’s snarl, John plunged through the portal, sword upraised. Bram stood ready for the attack. Their swords clashed, the sound ringing over the screams of the damned. Bram’s fury seemed renewed as he attacked. He and John fought, their bodies blurring with speed, the combat furious. Their fight circled the Dark One, who continued to tear at the shackle binding him.

Bram lunged and knocked away John’s blade. Yet John continued to fight, grappling for control of Bram’s sword. They each planted their feet in the ground, pushing against each other.

Bram held John steady, and threw her a glance. Now.

Shaking, exhausted and riddled with pain, Livia pushed herself up, onto her knees. She mustered the dim filaments of her strength. Wrapped her magic around the other shackle, and sent it straight to John.

It snapped around his ankle. Binding him.

Like the Dark One, he screamed and pulled at the binding. It would not open.

Livia felt herself topple. Before she hit the ground, strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her up. She did not care how much it hurt, all that mattered was being held by Bram, feeling the solidity of his chest and pound of his heart against her cheek.