CHAPTER FOURTEENHalf an hour and two pints of milk and Tabasco later, Liza was back on her feet. She hugged Azazel and Charouth goodbye then pressed a palm to the back wall of the bar. The stone began to glow and with a final wave she walked through.
Alone at last. The thrill of battle still sang in Charouth’s veins, but tempting as Azazel was she needed to get to Remiel. She patted the pocket with the ankh. Still there. They stepped outside into the damp air. Behind them Janus, crawled out from wherever he hid during the commotion and busied himself sweeping up broken glass and chunks of ceiling.
“So,” she said, “I’ll be off now.”
Azazel clamped a hand on her wrist, shaking his head. “No.”
Her gaze met his and she wet her lips. That one word sent liquid heat straight to her center.
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