‘‘They’ve never faced a force like ours, though.’’

‘‘True that,’’ it agreed. ‘‘So what are you going to do about Magoth? You still thinking of going dybbuk? ’Cause if you are, I want to watch when Magoth gets wind of it.’’

‘‘You’re an evil little beastie,’’ I said, tightening my lips.

‘‘Hello! Demon!’’

‘‘Sixth class, which means you weren’t born that way.’’ I inspected it carefully. ‘‘What were you originally? Elemental being? Demigod?’’

Jim snorted. ‘‘Ha. Like I look like I have that sort of power? I was a sprite in the Court of Divine Blood.’’

‘‘Fallen angel, I should have known.’’

‘‘Oh, puh-leeze,’’ it said, rolling its eyes. ‘‘Don’t even go there. It’s bad enough Aisling found out. I don’t need anyone else going on about it.’’

I laughed again and patted the top of its head. ‘‘Fair enough. To answer your question, no, I don’t intend to go dybbuk. I won’t have to. The situation will work itself out.’’

‘‘What situation?’’ a silky smooth voice asked behind me. Gabriel strolled toward me, his movements controlled and graceful, like a lithe tiger. He had changed clothes and was now dressed completely in black, the darkness of the clothing and the enveloping night making his eyes glow like moonlight on mercury.

‘‘The one concerning the phylactery. I was telling Jim that I think everything is under control, and don’t anticipate any problems.’’

Gabriel ran his thumb along my jawline, tipping my head back so he could peer into my face. ‘‘You are keeping something from me.’’

It was a statement, not a question.

‘‘Yes,’’ I said, unwilling to lie to him.

‘‘Tell me.’’

I glanced at the demon, who watched us with avidity.

‘‘Jim,’’ Gabriel said, and jerked his head toward the house.

‘‘Yo. Right here. You going to suck faces? Can I get my iPhone to film it?’’

‘‘Scram,’’ Gabriel told it.

‘‘You’re not my master. I don’t have to take orders from— Scramming.’’

Jim hurried off to the house muttering about people not having a sense of humor. I tucked my knife back into its sheath.

‘‘What are you concerned about, little bird?’’ Gabriel asked, his thumb brushing my lips.

I flicked my tongue against the pad of this thumb and gently bit it. I didn’t want to tell him about the phylactery, not when we were so close to getting it. If Gabriel knew the position I was in, he would insist on challenging Magoth himself, and not even a wyvern of his power could stand against a demon lord. Much as I hated to keep things from him, it was better for all concerned if he was unaware of the true source of my worry. I answered truthfully, but with less explanation than perhaps was needed. ‘‘It’s Magoth. I’m worried about him. I don’t want him to hurt you.’’