Andre’s eyes closed again, and his body shook, his rage now usurped by his grief. She couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t. He refused to believe it.
His eyes snapped open as a thought crossed his mind. “Oliver,” he said, “you can travel to other realms—you can get her, you can bring her back.” He didn’t have to hear his voice to know that desperation had entered it.
The fairy was shaking his head, and in the dim light of the room, Andre saw the glint of Oliver’s tears. He began to speak, and Andre read his lips. “… so sorry … can’t travel to the Underworld … unless … Samhain. Even then, … who enter … can’t leave.”
Andre sagged against the altar, bowing his head as more bloody tears mixed with Gabrielle’s blood.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. One of the cloaked figures was trying to escape. One of the bastards that had killed her.
They will pay.
He was on the figure in an instant, ripping off the being’s cloak. Beneath it was a man who cowered at the sight of Andre.
Andre’s upper lip curled, and he bared his fangs. “You dare try to leave?” he hissed.
The man’s entire body shook, and he smelled ammonia as the man’s bladder released. He could see his mouth moving, begging.
Andre’s fury was no longer mindless—at least, not for the moment. He knew enough about grief to expect another wave to slam into him, and soon.
“Gabrielle begged for her life,” Andre said. “I’ll show you as much mercy as you showed her.” He kicked the man’s knees in. The ridiculous techno music Oliver had programmed on his iPod drowned out the sound of shattering bone and screams. The man collapsed on the ground, his skin beginning to sweat. His face pinched together in agony.
Andre knelt. “I’d rip out your throat, except then you’d die too quickly. Perhaps if you hadn’t killed my mate, I’d be more benevolent. Then again, humanity was always her thing, not mine.”
He pulled out two of his throwing knives and slashed open the man’s stomach, just like the others. Andre rose to his feet and kicked the man in the legs. Now that scream he could hear even over the music. Cold cruelty was always more satisfying than his mindless rages.
Andre glanced behind him at the fairy, who still stood in the doorway, his gun hanging limply at his side. The fairy’s eyes were wide with shock.
“This, my friend, is why you should’ve stayed upstairs.”
Chapter 27
“Game room,” the devil said with a bored flick of his wrist as we entered it. We’d wound our way through the castle, the devil giving me the world’s most half-assed tour.
Then again, considering the rooms’ horrible contents, the less information, the better. Like this room, for instance.
I sucked in my cheeks as the smell of death wafted over me. It wasn’t a game room in the sense of board games or a billiards table. Nope. It was a hunter’s game room, and everywhere I looked, I saw relics of the hunted.
I was going to be sick. A unicorn’s head was mounted next to a head of a dragon. The full body of a being with webbed feet and gills sat on display in the corner. Next to it was a centaur, posed to look as though it were rearing up. On the other side of the room a griffin rested next to a stuffed sphinx.
“These creatures are real?”
“Were real. Most are extinct now.”
I caught sight of a wall dedicated solely to wings. Iridescent fairy wings were pinned to the wall right next to what looked like bat wings—very, very large bat wings. Other sets had plumage and came in deep, vibrant colors. There were so many pairs that they overlapped one another.
Intelligent beings had been caught, killed, and were now displayed. Perhaps when the devil got tired of me, I’d join them.
I shuddered at the thought.
“Enjoying the tour so far?” the devil asked, throwing me a glance. One side of his mouth curved up, and he gave me a knowing look.
“It’s … unusual.” Yeah, unusual and horrific.
We left the room and continued through the castle. I began to rub my arms as the preternatural chill sank into my bones. I was learning that was the chill that came from being in a place where God simply wasn’t.
“Where is everyone?” I asked. We’d come across no one, and I still couldn’t hear any voices.
The devil slowed until we walked side-by-side. “Gone,” he murmured.
I pulled back to look at him and caught him just as his gaze dropped to my backside.
“For a guy who rules the Underworld, you sure seem awfully interested in … life,” I commented.
He flashed me a sinful smile. “Care to see the extent of my interest?”
The corners of my mouth drew down. There was innuendo in that offer. Ew, ew, ew!
“Er, no.” Before the devil could get all up in arms about my rejection, I changed the subject. “Where, exactly, is this home of yours?” I asked.
The devil’s gaze drifted over my face and down my neck as we walked, but he didn’t answer.
“Romania?” I ventured.
An amused smile touched his lips. “In your world it is.”
I wasn’t going to dissect that statement. I wasn’t.
“It’s a castle,” I continued. “It’s …” I sucked in air. I glanced at him, wide-eyed. “Are we in Dracula’s castle?”
“We are in my castle.”
That was devil-speak for, yes, we are in Dracula’s castle. Which would’ve been cool, except these were so not the right circumstances to rejoice. “Isn’t this place a tourist destination?” I asked.
“Beings of both my world and yours do flock here,” the devil said as we entered a hall.
“Beings of your world … ?” A shiver ran down my spine when I remembered the shrieking I’d heard from somewhere further inside the house. I shook my head to clear it. “Are we still in my world?”
“Your petty questions bore me,” the devil said, reaching for my hand.