“The heart will never stop beating, and if you try to destroy it, it will regrow itself. Same as the body. Morax is the only one we’ve ever lost, and that’s only because Eisheth buried his heart and then had another demon erase her memories of where she hid it. So that no one could ever find it again.” He took a step closer, his eyes darkening. “There are plenty of hunters who have tried to kill us over the centuries. It is impossible. The heart always finds a way of returning to its body if it’s close enough. We’re talking within a thousand miles.”

Shivers stormed across my skin. A thousand miles? “So, you’re all immortal. How are we ever going to stop this killer?”

“I plan to take his heart. And then I will drop it into the deepest ocean, as far away from here as I can manage.” Az reached out and fingered a strand of my hair. My heart lurched into my throat, despite everything. “But don’t you worry about that. You need to get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Hadn’t he heard me tell him I was too worried about Serena to sleep? Damn demons and their selective hearing. But just before the words popped out of my mouth, a strange sensation whooshed through my veins. My limbs suddenly grew too heavy for me to move. Lightness filled my head. As the world went black, Az wrapped his arms around me and kept me from toppling to the floor. The last thing I knew before sleep dragged me under was being lifted off my feet and carried into the bedroom. The scent of fire soothed my soul.

* * *

I awoke with a start. A gasp shook my lungs as I popped up straight, sweaty hair tangled against my forehead. Darkness still hung heavy in the bedroom, but pinpricks of light shone around the edges of the curtains. Az was already up. I could hear him moving around in the kitchen, clinking dishes.

With a frown, I padded into the main section of the penthouse. A glass of orange juice sat waiting for me on the counter, but I still shot the back of his head a glare. Mister Nice Demon wasn’t going to cut it this morning.

“What did you do to me last night?” I asked in a low, even tone of voice.

He turned, nodded at the juice, and went back to the stove. The scent of freshly-grilled bacon wafted into my nose. “Drink.”

I folded my arms. “Not until you tell me what you did to me.”

“You needed some rest. All I did was help you along.”