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moment she saw the bleak expression on his face, her heart plummeted to her feet.
    “What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
    The stethoscope around his neck bounced against his broad chest as he walked toward her. Like all sex demons, the black-haired doctor was impossibly gorgeous, something she’d have appreciated on any other day. Something she
did
appreciate on any other day. He was mated, but Blaspheme wasn’t blind.
    “The surgery went well,” he said, a note of compassion softening his matter-of-fact voice.
    “But?”
    He jammed his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “I was able to set her broken arm, repair her lacerated stomach, colon, and liver, and treat the burn on her leg, but I couldn’t use my healing ability. Something interfered with my power.”
    “I know.” She looked down, remembering the cup of coffee in her hand, and took a drink. It was cold and stale, but it felt good going down her parched throat. “She tangled with an angel.”
    One dark eyebrow shot up. “That explains it.”
    “Will she be okay?”
    Silence. It only lasted for a heartbeat, but it was enough to curdle the creamed coffee in her belly. “I don’t know. I repaired what I could, but whatever weapon the angel used scrambled her insides. It actually reversed my healing ability and caused more damage, which means it was a specialty weapon, like grimlight or haloshiv.”
    Which meant a specialty angel had wielded the weapon. A specialty angel like an Enforcer. Or, as Deva claimed, an Eradicator, Heaven’s extermination specialists. With the ability to see through enchantments and sense things other angels couldn’t – like angel DNA inside someone who shouldn’t have it – they were Enemy Number One to beings like Blaspheme.
    “So what are you saying?” She knew, but she needed to hear it. Needed it to be real, or she’d live in a world of make-believe where everything was happy-happy and her mother would recover all by herself, the way fallen angels always did.
    “She’s still in danger,” he said. “I’ll look into some alternative treatments, but for now, it’s a waiting game. I’m sorry, Blaspheme. I wish I had better news.”
    “Thank you,” she said numbly. Her brain had shut down after the word
danger
, leaving her disoriented and reeling. “I, ah… I want to see her.”
    “Of course.” Eidolon rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything, let me know. Take off all the time you want.”
    She gave a noncommittal nod, but she wouldn’t be taking any time off. She had nothing else to do but work, and as long as her mother was in the hospital, she’d be here, too. Besides, she loved her job, had never felt as needed as she did when she was elbow-deep in someone’s chest cavity. There was just something about giving life.
    No number of saved lives can give back the one you took.
 
    The nagging voice in her head was always there to keep her feet on the ground. Technically,
she
hadn’t taken a life. But one had been sacrificed for her, and she was going to honor that. She had no doubt, in fact, that her guilt had been the reason she’d chosen a career in medicine.
    Leaving Eidolon, she hurried to the recovery room, where her mother was hooked up to machines Blaspheme could operate blindfolded, but right now she couldn’t even remember what they were called.
    “Blas.” Deva’s voice was barely a whisper.
    Blaspheme gripped her mother’s pale hand and sank into the chair next to the bed. “Don’t talk. You need to rest.”
    Ignoring her, Deva opened her eyes, the vivid aqua now hazy with pain and meds. “Where… where am I?”
    “You’re at Underworld General. Don’t worry, you’re safe. Angels can’t enter.”
    The problem was that Devastation couldn’t stay here forever, and clearly, she couldn’t return home. She could find a place to stay in Sheoul, but if Heavenly angels had located her, it wouldn’t be long before fallen angels such as