Kellie's apartment was just the way Rhys had left it, and the book was right where Kellie had said it would be - beneath the couch cushions where she'd put it while possessed by Namaah.

The Book of Enoch, and in particular, the Book of the Watchers, was an ancient Jewish religious text purportedly written by Enoch, the great-grandfather of Noah, which depicts the Fall of the Angels, among other things. This particular copy had been given to him by Riley to be used in his quest to finish Hell's Triad and seal the Gates of Hell. He had a feeling it was important, but thus far, he hadn't had much of a chance to read it.

Too much had happened in the last few weeks.

Kellie had stolen the book, and he'd finally managed to track her down only to have her become possessed and steal it again, this time threatening to kill Kellie if he didn't cooperate, just like she had Jessie and David and John. Afraid she'd carry out her threat, he'd managed to escape, only to have her track him down at Luke's, where she'd shot him in the shoulder, as if to reinforce her threat, and then something strange had happened. Luke had described it as a bright light, but for the life of him, Rhys couldn't remember it. All he knew was that he'd blacked out, only to find Luke and Kellie hovering over him when he awoke, digging a bullet out of his shoulder. Kellie was no longer possessed, and neither had any explanation for what had happened, but deep inside, Rhys knew it had been angels.

He'd spent the next few days recuperating from the wound, but he knew he couldn't stay and he knew he couldn't take Kellie or Luke with him. He'd already involved them enough and had almost gotten them both killed. It was time he took matters in his own hands and did things on his own.

And so, with a heavy heart, he'd finally left, leaving nothing behind but letters of apology and explanation he knew would be inadequate, but it was the best he could do.

"What do you want?" Rhys asked, green eyes flashing with hatred.

The demon that was wearing the woman's body chuckled as she slid onto his lap, legs straddling his hips, fingers tracing his jawline. "I should think that would be obvious by now."

He jerked his head away from her touch, to no avail, chuckling humorlessly, as he realized what she wanted. "You've gotta be kidding me. That's all you want' It's like a bad porn movie."

"No, of course not, but it's a start." She leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek, trailing kisses from his jaw down his neck, smiling when she felt him shudder beneath her touch, his pulse leaping beneath her lips, his body betraying him. She laid the palm of her hand against his chest, right over his heart, feeling it beating hard inside his chest. As much as he was trying to fight it, she was succeeding in seducing him. "You know you want me, Rhys," her voice whispered close to his ear. "Stop trying to fight it."

She pressed her hips against his, pelvis to pelvis, even as he tried in vain to push her away. No matter how hard he was trying to resist her, his body had a mind of its own. She curled her fingers into his shirt, frowning a little when she found the amber stone Aurelia had given him. "What's this?" she asked, tugging at the leather cord that hung around his neck. She scowled at the stone as she pulled it free from his shirt and yanked it from around his neck, throwing it across the room in disgust, recognizing it for what it was. Protection against nightmares and intrusions into one's dreams. Protection against things like her. No wonder she hadn't been able to go to him while he'd been sleeping. Someone had been meddling, helping him, protecting him, but it no longer mattered.

"Do you really think a mere bauble will stop me, Rhys?" She laughed, and the sound of her laughter sent a chill up his spine. She felt him shudder and smiled in satisfaction, wanting him to fear her, but wanting another reaction from him even more.

She slid her hips away from him and moved to her feet, fingers working the buttons of her blouse loose, lips curled into an almost sinister smile.

If it wasn't for the demon he knew was riding around inside her, he might have actually wanted her. As it was, his body was reacting in a way he found uncomfortable, to say the least. He flexed his wrists, trying to loosen the knots that held him bound to the chair, unable to pry his eyes from her as she unwrapped herself from the clothing that hid those luscious curves.

"Are you sure you don't want some of this, Rhys?" she asked as she discarded her clothing, one piece at a time, revealing her beauty, flesh smooth as silk, bronze as a goddess, a fall of black hair that cascaded past her waist, chocolate-colored eyes that were dark with desire.

He felt a tightening in his stomach, a flare of heat in his loins, his face flushed with desire, his body betraying him once again. "Why don't you cut me loose and we'll find out?" he asked, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

She laughed again as she moved around behind him, leaning over to slide her hands down his chest, her hair falling over his left shoulder, her lips so close he could feel her breath against his neck. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? So you can play angel again and drive me from this body. But I like this body, Rhys. I want to keep it awhile. This body and yours would make beautiful children, don't you think?"

Her lips trailed a line of kisses against his neck, as her hands tugged at his shirt, his breath catching in his throat when her fingernails grazed his flesh. "Just think of it, darling....What a special child he'd be. Half angel, half demon, the best of both worlds. A son to replace the one you lost. Lilith's doing, not mine. So sad. I know how much you grieve his loss. Stop fighting me and I'll give you another. One to replace your poor, pathetic, little Patrick."

"Like hell we are," Rhys muttered through clenched teeth, rage rising, and with it, courage. Heat, like fire, seemed to rush through his veins, his heart swelling until he thought it would burst, a surge of power flowing through him, until he felt like he could contain it no longer, like it would burst forth out of control.

There was a flash of bright light, and the demon fell back, muttering a curse, a rune-covered dagger appearing in her hand, as if from out of nowhere. Light so bright, it blinded her, and she had to throw up a hand to shield her pupil-less black eyes.

Rhys broke free from the chair, the ropes falling away from his wrists as though some unseen force had sliced through them, setting him free. The light slowly faded, and he turned to face the demon, who wasn't wasting a moment. Shifting in form, talon-tipped wings sprang forth from her back, curved horns upon her head, a long, slender tail that swished behind her like a whip. Her true form, not unlike the drawings he'd seen of a succubus, both beautiful and hideous to behold. She came at him with a cry like that of a banshee, warning of his impending death, slashing with the dagger and drawing first blood.

He gasped and fell back, glancing down to find the blade had slashed him just below the ribs, blood oozing from the wound, pain like fire blazing across his left side. He heard her laugh deep in her throat, a sound so inhuman it sent a cold chill up his spine.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Rhys," the demon told him. "Surrender and I promise I'll protect you from Abaddon."

"A promise from a demon is no better than a lie," he countered, wincing a little at the pain in his side, his torn shirt feeling suddenly wet and sticky with blood. She took a step closer, brandishing the dagger menacingly, and he knew he didn't have much time left. All his years of hunting and being hunted seemed to come down to this one single moment in time.

She lowered the dagger and took a step closer, as he backed away, clutching his side, his hand coming away sticky with blood. "I wasn't always a demon, Rhys. I was a woman once, with a woman's needs and desires." She shifted form, looking human again, but this time she looked like Riley. Long dark hair, soft caramel eyes, lips just begging to be kissed. She was tall and slender, long dancer's legs he remembered so fondly. Legs she'd wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly against her, tangled together in a lover's embrace, until they'd collapsed from exhaustion. He'd been with plenty of women in his life, but not a single one had ever come close to what it had felt like to be with her.

"No," he muttered, his body betraying him again. If she stayed in that form for long, he knew he was doomed. "You're not her. It's just an illusion."

"How do you know I haven't been her" How do you know you haven't had me already?" She closed the distance between them, one hand pressed against his chest to pin him up against the wall. She lifted the blade, pressing the tip against his cheek, hard enough to draw a single drop of blood. Though she wore Riley's likeness, the menacing smile was her own, as were the lifeless black eyes. "You remember that stripper" What was her name" Candy' That was me, at least for a time. You couldn't perform then, poor thing." She clucked her tongue at him, sliding the blade down his cheek, dangerously close to his neck, so that if he so much as flinched, it was over. "You were too busy thinking about someone else. Don't you understand, darling" I can be whoever you want. Anyone. Jessie, Riley, Kellie" Angelina Jolie. Anyone you want."

"You might look like them, but you can't be them. You can't bring Jessie back or Patrick, and I'd rather die than be with the likes of you," he sputtered, green eyes flashing with anger and hatred.

She sighed heavily and lifted the blade again, this time to cast the killing blow. "So be it then," she told him and thrust the dagger at him, but he threw up a hand to catch her wrist, drawing on sheer force of will to lend him the strength to fight her. A look of surprise crossed her face, obviously not expecting him to fight back and doubled her efforts, forcing the blade slowly closer.

His eyes flashed again, and she gasped, seeing something in his eyes that frightened her, like the flash of white light, but from somewhere deep inside his soul. She let go of the blade and stumbled back, but it was too late. He pulled the knife away from her and in his hand, it somehow changed shape, lengthening, shining like starlight " a shining silver sword, the sword of an angel.

"No!" the demon cried, shifting form again, back to the woman who she'd hoped to use to seduce him, but it was too late. Without so much as a moment's hesitation, he drove the blade through her chest, piercing her heart, twisting it to do the most damage. He watched while she sputtered, eyes wide with fear, blood bubbling up and dribbling from her mouth. As she stumbled back, he pulled the blade clear, standing suddenly taller it seemed, bathed in a bright golden light she found too beautiful to behold for long.

"That's for Jessie, bitch," he told her through clenched teeth, watching as she collapsed on the floor, screaming in pain as a blinding light shot through her, driving the demon from the woman's body and consuming its soul. Rhys watched as the black shadow that was Namaah's soul was consumed by the light, his own light fading, along with the blade. He stumbled, catching hold of his side, uncertain what had just happened. He saw the woman's broken body on the floor and somehow knew the demon was gone, feeling suddenly weary and tired of death.

He knelt down over the body, her dead eyes staring at nothing, and gently took her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where he laid her down to rest. He lowered his head as if in prayer for a moment, before gently closing her eyes and pulling the bedclothes up over her naked and broken body. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking, his face suddenly wet with tears, grieving for yet another innocent victim in the war between Heaven and Hell.

With Namaah's death, there was only one of Hell's Triad left, and he knew the last would prove his greatest challenge.