“But it’s like those legs are chiseled from marble. They’re wasted on that mortal.” She sighed and went back to her magazine.

Franks scraped the moth bits into the sludge. He had made so many batches of Dippel’s Elixir of Life over the years that he could have done this in his sleep . . . if he ever slept. It would be done soon, and then he could get back to work. He picked up a beaker of caustic acid and poured it into the pot. The mixture turned blue.

“You’re leaving me again, aren’t you, Franks? Don’t deny it. I can tell.”

Of course he was. He needed to contact Myers tonight. Franks had told Lana enough about Nemesis for her to understand the magnitude of the situation. “Someone has to send Kurst back to Hell.”

“There’s no way you can beat Kurst. He was one of the best.” She got off the couch. The succubus wasn’t wearing much, just some frilly see-through thing, but that was normal for her. She came into the kitchen, pouting. “You don’t want to leave. You don’t owe humans anything. You’re going to try to save them, even while they’re hunting you. Don’t be stupid.”

Lana didn’t know about The Deal, and she’d never understand even if he told her. She was an entirely selfish being. Succubi were minor things, too focused on self-gratification to think through the consequences of their rebellion. They often slipped through the cracks, scraping out a mortal existence by preying on the basest human emotions. She wasn’t a warrior like him or Kurst. The idea of sacrifice or redemption, the very foundations of The Deal, were beyond her comprehension.

“I’m not stupid.”

“Could have fooled me.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled up against his back. She was warm. “Admit it, Franks. Deep down you know I’m right. Humans are even more selfish than we are. They used me and they’ve used you so much longer. Now you’re all used up and they’ve thrown you away.”

He could feel her breathing on his back. “Maybe.”

“Kurst will find a way to bring the entire army of Hell here. Mankind will get stomped. Then it would be our turn. Is that really such a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“You always were soft on humans. You’ve gotten hurt so many times trying to protect them and they’ll never accept you. Wait . . . that’s right, mortal women have fallen in love with you before. How has that always worked out?”

She knew damned good and well how that always ended.