Idess’s stomach lurched as the Neethul led them through rooms that seemed to have no purpose except to display the heads and a few other choice body parts, until they reached a long, dark hallway. At the end, a rolling vertical door opened into the largest room yet. In the center was a crude wooden trestle table, at which at least a hundred demons sat, some drinking from ale tankards, and others gnawing on bloody hunks of meat. The Neethul took a chair near the middle.
A lizardlike demon of unknown species stood at the far end. “Why do you request this audience?” he asked, his voice booming with an unnatural resonance, a trick of the room’s architecture, Idess was sure.
“I come for information about one of your clients. I must speak with the master known as Detharu.”
There was an explosion of talk, and the lizard-man gestured for silence. “Your request is ridiculous. You will therefore be killed.”
“I will speak with Detharu, or you will face my father’s wrath.” She locked gazes with the demon.
Lizard-man’s ominous growl vibrated the air. “I do not think you understand. No master can reveal the name of the one who entered into a contract with him.”
“I didn’t say I wanted a name.” At this point, even a sketchy description would be better than nothing.
Conversation ensued, and finally, the demon turned back to her. “The price for even the smallest kernel of information will be great.”
“And that price would be?” she ground out.
“You will become an assassin.”
They couldn’t be serious. The way Lore went taut beside her said they were. “I will not.”
One eyeless male stood up, his pasty skin reminding her of a grub. Or a maggot. His hands were encased in metal, with spikes at the knuckles. “One kill. Whoever we command. Just one. Agree or leave.”
“Don’t do it, Idess,” Lore growled in a voice so low she doubted the others could hear.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins in a stinging rush. She couldn’t do it. To kill like that… it would eliminate her as a candidate for Ascension. But she’d be eliminated if she lost Kynan, too.
“I cannot kill,” she said. “But I could serve in some other way.”
“Idess!” Lore squeezed her elbow. “Don’t.”
They all looked to the white-skinned one. “Agreed.”
Oh, God, what had she done?
He moved toward her, peeling off one of the gauntlets as he approached. When he was in front of her he smiled, a baring of tiny, sharp teeth. “For six months you will be mine.”
A seismic rumble rolled up from Lore’s chest. “Oh, no she won’t.” His arm hooked around her throat as he yanked her backward, and then there was an incredible pressure on her throat, and then… nothing.
The world went black.
Shit, shit, shit. Lore had really stepped in it this time. He sprinted through the Guild Hall, Idess in his arms, after knocking her cold with a modified sleeper hold. Deth’s furious shouts followed him. The demon was going to torture the ever-living fuck out of him for this.
Spurred by footfalls behind him, he kicked the outer door so hard it splintered, vaulted through it, and hit the portal at a run. When he emerged in what felt like slow motion into the killbox, he didn’t pause. And when his slave-bond lit up as if it was on fire, he breathed through the agony and ran harder, until he was safely shut into a Harrowgate. Panting and cursing, he tapped out the map until he arrived at the gate closest to his house.
Idess began to stir, and shit, she was going to kick his ass, too.
Freaking Grim Reaper’s daughter.
Leave it to him to get messed up with Death’s little girl. Fuck.
He exploded out of the Harrowgate and didn’t stop until he reached his front door. It was unlocked, as always, and fortunately, Sin wasn’t there waiting for him. The last thing he needed right now was her concern, lectures, or drama fits.
He laid Idess on the couch, but she’d awakened enough to squirm into a sit. “What… what happened?” She blinked up at him, her gaze a little glassy.
“I saved you from making a monster of a mistake.”
She blinked again, and then came to her feet so fast he had to take a step back. “You what?”
“I take it you remember?”
“They were going to tell me who is trying to kill my Primori!” she shouted.
He held up his hands. “You wake up grumpy. You’re not a morning person, are you?”
She gaped in outrage. “You… you—”
He palmed the nape of her neck, tugged her close, and kissed her. His assault tactics didn’t work. Her squeal of outrage and fists against his shoulders were his first clue that this might not be the best approach to the situation. The knee to the groin was the second.
He’d been prepared for that, though, and he’d stepped back and twisted, avoiding what would have been a painful blow.
“You son of a bitch!”
“What?” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You were mad.”
“I wasn’t talking about the kiss.”
He grinned. “Does that mean I can do it again?”
She stomped her foot. Actually stomped her foot in indignant fury. It probably shouldn’t have been cute, but it was. “Lore, this is serious!”
“I seriously saved you from Detharu’s service.” Rubbing his seared chest, he moved toward the kitchen and had to bite down on a smile at her huff of frustration.