Bael squared his shoulders. “Do you accept my challenge?”

“It really is sad how far you’ve fallen,” said Fiore. “If you’d like me to put you out of your misery, I accept. Emerazel’s cur will be your second?”

Bael nodded. “To the death then.”

Bloody hell. Ursula’s palms sweated on Honjo’s hilt.

Bael backed into the clearing, raising his blade—nearly five feet of lethal steel.

Fiore circled, his katanas poised like the fangs of a serpent. There was a flash, followed by a great clash of metal, as they struck in unison.

Through a blur of shadow and steel, Bael spoke. “I will give you a clean death if you tell me where to find Abrax.”

“The only death you’ll be getting is your own.” Fiore’s voice gave no hint of exertion.

As their swords engaged, Ursula’s eyes began to adjust to the intense speed, tracking their strikes. Fiore slashed; Bael parried. Before Bael could recenter his blade, Fiore’s second sword drove at his chest. It was a brutal strike, but Bael managed to leap out of range, rolling across the snowy clearing to rest on his back.

While Bael lay on the snow, Fiore closed on him like a shark sensing blood. The Sword of Nyxobas didn’t move. Ursula reached for her sword, but then Bael lashed out with his foot, his toe connecting with the back of Fiore’s knee.

The vampire’s leg buckled, and he fell to his knees. In a whirl of shadow, Bael sprung up and kicked the katanas out of reach. He lowered his own sword to the vampire’s neck, just piercing the skin. “Tell me where to find Abrax.”

Fiore’s lips pressed together in a thin line. The two demons glared at one another.

“Any last words?” asked Bael.

Fiore’s eyes flicked to where the blond vampire stood. From under his coat, the blond vamp drew a small crossbow.

Ursula lifted her sword, but it was too late. The bolt flew through the air, piercing Bael’s mortal chest. Ursula’s entire body went cold as she watched Bael topple back into the snow.

Fiore scrambled to his feet, snatching up one of his swords to deliver the final death blow. Power flooded Ursula as the night wind rushed over her skin, and she charged across the snow, Honjo ready in her grasp. A bolt whistled by her head, just as she swung for Fiore’s blade. She knocked Fiore’s strike off course, his blade driving into the dirt only inches from Bael’s neck.

Fiore’s dark eyes widened as he pulled his sword from the frozen earth. “What are you?”

Before he could strike again, she kicked him hard in the groin. He grunted, hunching over, swords falling to the snow.