He turned back to the dragon. “The most important question is how do we kill it?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” The amber flames in Baine’s eyes became oddly hypnotizing. “It is, after all, your ultimate sire.”
Santiago shook off the dragon’s intrusion into his mind. The bastard was no doubt hoping to enjoy a full-blown spiritual crisis. Unfortunately for him, Santiago was a warrior, not a monk.
“What will happen if it’s left free?”
A mocking smile touched Baine’s mouth. “Strong emotions have inevitable conclusions. It begins with murder and rape and the always favorite pillaging. Eventually it will disintegrate into war, genocide, and famine.”
He felt Nefri grow rigid at the stark warning and he instinctively rubbed a comforting hand down her back.
Not that he had much comfort to offer.
Dammit, hadn’t they just prevented the end of the world? Now they had to face war and genocide and famine?
Where was the justice in that?
“You didn’t answer the question,” he reminded the dragon, in no mood to be diplomatic. He snorted. Who was he kidding? He was never in the mood to be diplomatic. But after the past few weeks he was even more impatient than usual. “How do we kill it?”
Baine’s tattoos swirled in warning, although his voice remained soft. “I don’t know.”
So the mighty dragon knew everything but the information they most needed.
Predictable.
“Great.”
Baine leaned forward. “But I do find it intriguing that the Commission chose to imprison the spirit rather than destroying it, don’t you?”
Santiago paused. He’d rather have his tongue cut out than admit it, but the oversized lizard had a point.
Why hadn’t the Oracles killed the creature? Because they were demon conservationists who didn’t believe in killing off the potential last of a species? Yeah, right. More likely it was because they didn’t know how to get rid of the thing.
So instead they sent Nefri to do their dirty work, not giving a shit that she might die in the process.
Fury raced through him at the same time Baine rose from his throne, his surge of power making the earth shake beneath their feet.
Instinctively, Santiago shoved Nefri behind him, his sword raised. “Do we have a problem, dragon?” he growled.
“Your companion is searching for you,” Baine growled, his tattoos darkening. “And he’s not alone.”
Santiago frowned. “What companion?”
Nefri elbowed him in the side. “Levet.”
He rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t call the miniature pest a companion. More like an unwelcome boil on his ass.
“Our”—his lips twisted as he forced out the word—“companion can wait. I still have questions.”
Baine shook his head. “I have paid my debt.” He shifted his attention to the silent Nefri, the amber flames consuming his eyes. “My last word of warning, beautiful Nefri, is not to hesitate. With every passing day the spirit grows more powerful.”
“Wait . . .” Santiago stepped forward, but even as he moved, the throne room was dissolving around him.
Dammit.
He held on to Nefri as Baine offered a last mocking wave and the throne room faded to be replaced by the rolling meadow and large tree that was no longer split in two.
Barely managing to keep his balance at the abrupt change from a polished wood floor to muddy, uneven ground, Santiago’s seething frustration became pure male outrage at the stench of granite and . . . was that brimstone?
“There you are,” a French-accented voice proclaimed. “Mon dieu. I thought you’d been stolen by leprechauns.”
“Leprechauns,” a female voice taunted. “Everyone knows there are no leprechauns.”
Spinning on his heel, Santiago discovered the stunted gargoyle standing a few feet away, accompanied by a tiny female demon with black, oblong-shaped eyes and razor sharp teeth.
Gods almighty, the gargoyle had a friend?
Okay, maybe not a friend, he hastily revised his opinion as the two glared at one another.
“It was a metaphor,” Levet informed his companion, his wings quivering with anger.
The female gave a toss of her long braid, her hands smoothing down the long, white robe that covered her diminutive body. “It was idiotic,” she muttered.
“Dios.” Santiago turned to discover Nefri regarding the tiny couple with a faint smile. “Shoot me now.”
Chapter 19
Styx’s lair in Chicago
Sally didn’t know why she was caught off guard when Roke carried her directly to Styx’s dungeon.
Did she think making him her temporary love-slave would soften his hatred for her? Or hey, maybe he would be grateful she’d made him betray his people and help her escape?
Yeah, he should be thrilled-to-freaking-death with her.
Still, as he entered the house by the hidden tunnel and headed directly to the dungeon, she was overwhelmed by a sudden avalanche of panic.