Almost getting whacked wasn’t what had annoyed Lore—he’d deserved it for letting his guard down. What had gotten Lore all worked up was the fact that the Guardian had used some seriously underhanded, sleazy methods for catching and killing demons, including keeping cages full of baby demons to torture until adults came to save the little ones.
Lore didn’t harbor a whole lot of love for demons, but there were some things you just didn’t do. Er… yeah. Lore’s hypocrite switch flipped at that, because some of those things you just didn’t do had been done by him during his hell years as an assassin. He shot Kynan a glance, and okay, Lore had no qualms about putting that guy down. They’d been enemies since they first identified each other as competition for the same woman. Back then, Lore had hoped for an opportunity to take the guy’s head off, which made the fact that Lore had brought Kynan back to life after he’d been bled out so ironic. Then again, he’d only resurrected Kynan because he’d hated seeing Gem in pain.
This time, he wouldn’t have to see it.
The slave-bond on Lore’s chest pulsed, marking time in the countdown to his deadline, and there was no sense in waiting. Lore strode inside, his boots striking the black-veined red marble and announcing his presence with no subtlety whatsoever. Lore never had been subtle.
Instantly, Kynan swung around. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was a knot of suspicion and snarl, and yeah, there was no love lost between them.
Lore didn’t remove his glove; too obvious. He’d power-punch his death special through the leather. “I want to call a truce.”
Kynan snorted. “I hadn’t heard that hell froze over.”
Funny guy. Lore almost regretted having to kill him. Almost. “True story. I figure the more I get to know my brothers, the more you and I will have to see each other, and I’m thinking brawls at family picnics are frowned upon.”
“Clearly you don’t know your brothers,” Kynan said wryly, and Lore experienced a weird sensation… as if maybe he could like the human under the right circumstances.
Ruthlessly, he shoved aside the candy-ass sentiments and grew a set. His sister’s life was at stake, here. “Well, that’s sort of the point of hanging around with them.” Not that that was going to happen. He’d made Sin a promise, and this time, he wouldn’t fail her. “So what do you say?”
Skepticism put shadows in Kynan’s denim-blue eyes, and Lore’s palms dampened with sweat. “I haven’t thanked you for saving my life.”
“No need.” Actually, some serious sucking up would be cool, considering how much pain Deth had put Lore through for using his power of resurrection.
“Bullshit.” Kynan jammed his stang into the weapons harness criss-crossing his chest, the sound of metal sliding home into its leather housing ringing out in the cavernous space. “No way am I letting you hold that over my head for eternity. I’ll thank you, and somehow, I’ll make us even.”
They’d be even when Kynan was the guest of honor at his own wake. And wait… eternity? What the hell did he mean by eternity? Lore eyed the gold chain hanging around Kynan’s neck, the one Lore was supposed to grab after killing him. Wraith had given him the crystal amulet… did it bestow magical protection or longevity?
Well, there was only one way to find out. “Fine. I accept your thanks. Truce?” Lore offered his hand, let his gift fire up with so much power that his arm burned from the top symbol at the crook of his neck to his fingertips. If he took off his jacket, he knew every glyph would be glowing like a brand.
For a long time, Kynan just stood there. Take it, take it… Lore made a come-on gesture with his fingers, hoping the guy would get with the program. Finally, Kynan nodded.
And held out his hand. “Truce.”
Idess materialized inside a house—an expensive one, judging by the decor. Instantly, an intense itch flared up between her shoulder blades along the twin marks where her wings would someday sprout. They were like twin demon sensors, and right now, they were screaming warnings.
In the center of a richly decorated but spacious room, Kynan was facing off with a huge male clad in black leather. The male must be a demon, and somehow the source of the danger vibes that buzzed through her as though she was gripping an electric wire. But how could he be a threat to Kynan? The male wasn’t a fallen angel; she’d sense that.
Still, Kynan’s heraldi was searing her arm, so the impossibility of the situation didn’t matter. She flashed between the two men, using the element of surprise and her superior strength to slam her palms into the stranger’s massive chest and heave him across the room.
“What the—” He hit the wall with a resounding crack, the impact so forceful that plaster and dust came down around him. He shook his head, flinging white wall particles from his short, nearly black hair.