Samael. Jeez, he was mentioned a lot. I flipped to the first mention of his name and began to read.

Samael, son of Nisroch and Labassu, both deceased.

I frowned and flicked to his father’s name in the index, reading forward.

Nisroch was a high level general who bonded with Labassu, daughter of the underking.

I’d known Samael was a prince from the memory he’d shared with me. But reading about it solidified it in my head. According to the book, the royal family had been slaughtered by… Lucifer.

I kept reading. Lucifer was the current underking, but he hadn’t always been. He’d been one of Samael’s grandfather’s top advisors, and he’d planned his coup over several centuries.

This was who Samael’s enemy was. Lucifer himself.

I forced myself to put the book away. I needed to find a way out of here, and when I did, I needed to talk to Samael. Lucifer had been centuries old when Samael was just a child. How could he hope to go up against him?

I placed the book back where I found it and wandered. I’d managed to get turned around, and whenever I drifted too close to the flames, the heat pouring off them warned me away. Something was glowing to the right. I followed the tiny white sparks and frowned.

A single leather-bound book sat on a stand. The book blazed with white light, illuminated as if from within. I stared at it.

The Nephilim Prophecy.

Everything around me disappeared, and I lifted my hand, reaching for the book.

No. Opening a magic book in a strange realm definitely wasn’t a good way to stay alive.

The compulsion pulled at me, and I gritted my teeth, frozen in place. I couldn’t back away, couldn’t seem to move, except to take another step forward. It was as if I was caught in thick, unyielding glue.

I palmed one of my knives. I broke wards with my blood. I’d break this too. I sliced my hand and the world turned purple. The book left its stand, floating into the air, and my magic streamed from me, mixing with the white sparks dancing above me.

The book fell, and I watched as my hands opened.

I caught it.

Every instinct I had, every part of me urged my hands to put it down. I couldn’t explain the clenching of my gut, the pounding of my heart, but I knew that if I opened that book I was in deep, deep shit.

My hand moved to the cover.

“No, goddamn it.”

I focused every ounce of my willpower on my hand. I dropped my shields and pushed my magic against the compulsion.

It made no difference. My hand moved, and I opened the book.

26

Samael

I paced back and forth. “Get that seelie woman here. Now.”