Heir of Night (The Thorne Hill)

“I don’t like that idea at all,” Nicole quavers. “I know you’re right and I know trapping them and sending them somewhere is the best thing to do. Still, can’t the archangels take care of it? They did before, right?”

“Right,” I say and swallow another lump that is rising in my throat. “I don’t know much, but it seems my uncle Uriel is a real dick and is willing to let humanity fall apart for a few years if it means proving that my dad and Lucifer have been teaming up.”

“We’re not going to let it come to that.” Lucas’s hand lands on my thigh. “Our daughter will not be born into a world ruled by darkness.” He runs his hand up and down my thigh. “I’m still in favor of killing the Horsemen, and I think you can,” he tells me. “When Julian’s divinity blew up, it knocked War loose in his saddle. That’s how I escaped.” He gets up and pulls a book about Egyptian mythology off the shelf, flipping through pages as he comes back.

“What?” I ask, knowing the look on his face. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we’ve been going about this all wrong—everyone has been going about this all wrong. You can’t kill them while they’re on their horses. Knock them off, and then they can die.”

Chapter 44

“I’m guessing that’s another thing that’s easier said than done.” Nicole twists her auburn hair around her fingers.

“Oh, of course.” Lucas puts the book on the coffee table. It’s open to a page about Anubis and the Underworld. “The blast of divinity was enough just to cause War to get off balance. We’re going to need something stronger to knock one completely off. Hellfire killed Bael, I’m going to bet it will work against them too.”

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Naomi stands, pacing to the window. I hate that they’re freaked out—though they should be. We’re talking about the fucking Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Get the traps laid first and foremost,” Lucas tells us. He eyes the book again. “Maybe this is what Julian was working on…a way to kill them for good.”

“Let’s say Callie can knock one off and kill it. Do you think the others will want revenge or will amp up…whatever it is they’re doing?” Kristy asks.

“I can’t say,” Lucas tells her, not wanting to bullshit anything. “We can run through a dozen what-if scenarios about what could happen, and it would do us no favors. For now, lay the traps. We need at least one line of defense against them if Callie does indeed go into labor tonight.”

I run my hand over my stomach, feeling Juliet moving around. “Can we eat first? I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Nicole says. “I get hungry when I’m nervous, and I’m really freaking nervous.”

“We got this,” I say automatically, going into annoying hero mode, as Eliza puts it. We so don’t got this, but we have to have hope. I close my eyes in a long blink, feeling a tug on my heart. I wish Julian were here, not just so he could help us fight the Horsemen.

“What can I do to help prepare for the spell?” Lucas asks, brushing my hair over my shoulder. His fingers linger on the side of my neck, feeling my heartbeat.

“There’s not much we can do until Tabatha and Evander get here with the rest of the gemstone fragments,” I start. “But marking off a square in the yard would help. And then dividing it into triangles.”

“We have a bunch of flags from when the wires were marked off before the pool install. Will that work?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” I tell him. “It’ll help with the visual when we cast the spell and can be easily removed.”

“Maybe I’m missing something,” Eliza says, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she comes into the room. “How exactly are you going to get the Horsemen into the traps? Wouldn’t they see them on the ground and avoid stepping right into a magical circle?”

“It’ll be like the warding around the house,” I explain. “You won’t be able to see it. We’re going to glamour the gemstone fragments too. But getting them here…” I look at my friends. “That’s the million-dollar question. It’s really a shame they don’t share Paimon’s burning hatred for me.” I can feel Lucas’s glare without turning my head to look at him. “Which I might be able to use to our advantage.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, no,” Lucas tells me, voice gruff.

“Hear me out,” I start.

“No,” Lucas repeats, face set. “You are mine, and I won’t allow it.”

Having anyone tell me what to do irritates the crap out of me, and being told what I can’t do makes me rage. But there’s something so damn hot about Lucas getting possessive and protective like this.