Newt was the only other female demon in existence, possibly driven nuts because the elves killed her “sisters,” but more likely because Ku’Sox had tricked her into killing the ones they’d missed. Slim and gender neutral, she was sporting a bald head again. Heavy black eyeliner edging her eyes was the only feminine touch beyond the spare curves showing past her toga. Her entirely black eyes traveled over me, and a turbanlike hat misted into existence atop her head, sliding her from androgynous to feminine. The demon had trouble remembering what she was doing, but she was powerful, sort of the crazy Wendy of the lost lord-of-the-flies boys. She seemed to do better when I was around, which made everyone nervous.

A good six feet away from her on the same bench, Dali reclined in apparent idleness. He was squinting at me in irritation, his decidedly round form half a civil servant, half a hanging judge. His toga didn’t do a thing for him.

I glanced at the demons behind us, assembled either to watch or take part. I didn’t know which, and the distinction seemed important. Some of the faces were familiar, demons who’d asked me to make everything from backyard pools to cars to chandeliers for them. I stiffened as I spotted Ku’Sox weaving his way to the front, earning disdainful looks from those he passed.

He has Ceri and Lucy, I thought, my hands becoming fists as I fought the urge to launch myself at him. I’d saved the tall, psychotic demon’s life in the effort to save my own, and I trusted him about as far as I could throw a mountain. The admittedly attractive demon was the engineered child of the demons around me, created with both science and magic in an attempt to circumvent the elf curse that kept them tied to the ever-after and basically sterile. Except now he was chained here even more than they were—since I’d cursed him to be fixed to the ever-after day or night.

The more I got to know him and his kin, the more I wondered if most of the ugliness attributed to demonkind over the centuries could be lain at his feet. The wacko habitually ate people alive, believing that by doing so, he would absorb their souls; apparently he harbored doubts he had one. Even better, the demons had designed him with the ability to manipulate as much ley line energy as a female demon. That hadn’t turned out very well, seeing as that was probably why Ku’Sox had tricked Newt into killing everyone who might have a hope of controlling him.

And now he was using Nick to drop into reality whenever he felt like it. It had to have been Ku’Sox who took Ceri and Lucy. He had enough reason. It was obvious, and I snarled at the demon working his way to the bottom of the arena.