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Chapters (66)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. France / 1666
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Massachusetts / 1892
  12. Chapter 6
  13. Chapter 7
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. San Francisco / 1927
  17. Chapter 10
  18. Chapter 11
  19. Chapter 12
  20. Chapter 13
  21. Chapter 14
  22. Chapter 15
  23. Cleveland / 1938
  24. Chapter 16
  25. Chapter 17
  26. Chapter 18
  27. Chapter 19
  28. Chapter 20
  29. Chapter 21
  30. Chapter 22
  31. Edinburgh / 1962
  32. Chapter 23
  33. Chapter 24
  34. Chapter 25
  35. Chapter 26
  36. Chapter 27
  37. Chapter 28
  38. Chapter 29
  39. Chapter 30
  40. Chapter 31
  41. Chapter 32
  42. Chapter 33
  43. Chapter 34
  44. Chapter 35
  45. Chapter 36
  46. Chapter 37
  47. Chapter 38
  48. Chapter 39
  49. Chapter 40
  50. Chapter 41
  51. Chapter 42
  52. Chapter 43
  53. Chapter 44
  54. Chapter 45
  55. Chapter 46
  56. Chapter 47
  57. Chapter 48
  58. Chapter 49
  59. Chapter 50
  60. Chapter 51
  61. Epilogue
  62. About the Author
  63. Preview of Broken
  64. Also by Kelley Armstrong
  65. Praise for Kelley Armstrong
  66. Copyright

“Noble, my ass. I just want to see this bitch’s face when I rip her out of Jaime’s body.”

A soft chuckle from Kristof.

Trsiel shook his head. “It’s not that easy—”

“Yeah, I know, this guy’s a killer, and he’s in a hell dimension, but I didn’t lead a sheltered life. If this guy knows how to catch the Nix, I’ll get it out of him. I know how to reason with guys like that. If I can’t, I’ll kick his ass from hell to Honolulu.”

Kris grinned. “And I’ll be there to help…in the persuasion phase.” He shot the grin my way. “If it comes down to ass-kicking, I’ll just watch.”

The Fate let out a heartfelt sigh and shook her head.

“Great plan,” Trsiel said. “One small problem.”

“What?” I said.

“He lies.”

“Huh?”

“Dachev can’t be trusted. Shocking, really, but—”

“Stuff the sarcasm, Trsiel,” I said. “We’re here to solve a problem, and I don’t hear you offering to help—”

“Which, track record considered, may be a blessing,” Kristof murmured.

Trsiel shot him a glare, but before he could come up with a retort, I carried on.

“If you don’t have a solution of your own, at least don’t mock ours,” I said. “Obviously this guy can’t be trusted to tell the truth about how he stopped the Nix, but if I can apply enough pressure—”

“You can’t,” the Fate said. “There is only one way to compel him to tell the truth. The Sword of Judgment. If he could be made to tell what he did, while laying his hands on it, he’d be forced to tell the truth.”

Trsiel looked at Kristof. “And before you ask why I haven’t done so myself, I cannot enter that place. Can not, not will not or may not. No full-blooded angel can enter a true hell. The ascendeds can…and we’ve already sent Katsuo, the only one who’d volunteer.”

“So the only way I can force him to speak the truth is to become an angel.” I looked from Trsiel to the Fates.

“Convenient.”

Kristof wheeled on Trsiel. “You scheming son-of-a-bitch.”

I laid my hand on his arm. “If anyone’s scheming here, I doubt it’s Trsiel. So far, he’s been the only one who’s been—or tried to be—honest with me about this whole angel thing.” I fixed my gaze on the Fates. “Anything you ladies want to tell me about this quest?”