“I don’t want to touch that money,” I said.

Beezle shrugged and shoved chocolate mint cookies in his beak. “I don’t see why not.”

“You know why not. It’s just a rope by any other name, and I will not be bound to Azazel’s plans any more than I already am.”

“You won’t be bound to his plans by using that money to fix your doors.”

“No, but I’ll feel indebted to him. And he wants that. He wants me to accept what he offers so that he can manipulate me into place like a chess piece. Lucifer does, too.”

“Yeah, well. REALLY good luck trying to extricate yourself from those two. They’ve been tying mortals in knots for ages untold.”

“Yes,” I said, rubbing my head. I felt a headache coming on. This day, like so many others of late, had exhausted me. I remembered with fondness a time when the most difficult part of my day was filling out forms in triplicate.

I wandered listlessly into the living room, thinking I could convince J.B. or Gabriel to spring for a pizza for all of us.

“So,” J.B. said as soon as I entered the room. “I hear you’ve got a big mission coming up.”

I glared at Gabriel. “What did you blab about that for?”

Gabriel looked surprised. “Because he is Amarantha’s son.”

“The court that I’m supposed to be going to.”

“Yup,” J.B. said.

“That’s your mom.”

“Yup.”

“Do you think you might have mentioned sooner that you were a faerie prince?” I said, annoyed.

“Do you think you might have mentioned sooner that you were the daughter of one of the fallen?” he retorted.

“I didn’t find out until . . . Never mind,” I said, not wanting to get into a childish argument. “Whatever. So, you’ve got an in with the court. You can help me negotiate with your mom, then.”

J.B. shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m her heir, but she doesn’t really like me.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Is there any useful information you can give me?”

“Yeah. Don’t go. The last emissary from the fallen was beheaded in front of the entire court.”

I stared at J.B., who looked completely serious. “You’re not f**king with me, are you?”

He shook his head. “The negotiator sent by Lucifer so offended the queen—”

“Your mom,” I interjected.

“—that she had him summarily executed in front of the assembled court. Upon review of the diplomat’s actions, Lucifer agreed that offense had been given and that the queen’s actions were correct. However, it’s taken almost a year for the queen to accept the possibility of a new negotiation. My mother tends to hold grudges.”

“I see. I’m so looking forward to this trip. Hey, wait a second,” I said. “When I told you that I was Azazel’s daughter, you acted like you knew nothing of the fallen.”

“Which is exactly what I was supposed to do until I had discussed the matter with the queen.”

“Why?”

Gabriel glanced at J.B. “Faerie courts are very tightly protected, even among supernatural beings. Faeries tend to be quite . . .”

“. . . rigid and unreasonable,” J.B. finished. “There is a certain order, a certain procedure, for everything.”

“So that’s why you’re such an anal stick in the mud when you’re at work,” I said.

He ignored my jibe and continued. “Contact with other species is strictly limited by clearance from the queen. I came into contact with you at work, but that did not mean that I could reveal to you what I knew about the fallen without telling you my own identity.”

“If your identity is such a big secret, then how come Nathaniel knew who you were?”

“I met with him during the negotiations to accept a new diplomat to the court. I am frequently my mother’s errand boy,” he said, and he didn’t look too happy about it.

I supposed I could be annoyed at J.B. for not telling me about this sooner, but really, what right had I to the information? We were friends, but nothing more than that. Still, it made me look at him in a new light. He seemed just as constrained by his heritage as I.

“Are there any useful tips you can give me at all? I’d really like to make it through my first diplomatic mission without getting my head chopped off.”

J.B. blew out a breath. “There are so many rules, so many potential breaches of etiquette . . .”

“I am not entirely sure that Madeline is the best person for this mission,” Gabriel said.

“Sarcasm is not productive,” I said.

“I am not being sarcastic. Lucifer surely has members of his own court that understand the complex rules of the faeries and could negotiate them better than you.”

“That means there’s some special reason why he wants me there,” I said.

“What reason could that be?” J.B. asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I said grimly. “But I will find out, sooner or later.”

“Let’s hope that in the meantime you manage to keep your head,” J.B. said.

Literally and figuratively, I thought. My temper always ran close to the surface. And when my emotions were high it became difficult for me to think clearly. For some reason, my magic seemed to feed off this and encourage it. A quick temper and unstable emotions—not to mention almost total lack of knowledge about the species in question—were not the best combination for a delicate diplomatic mission.