The stammered words were abruptly interrupted as Styx caught the sound of his name being called from the entrance of the dungeon.
Without hesitation he was headed out of the cell and closing the door firmly behind him.
“Wait,” Keeley cried. “Where are you going?”
Styx ignored the imp. No one would dare to disturb him unless it was important.
With long strides he was moving down the line of cells and out the heavy door that was closed behind him by the guards. Then, stepping out of the security room, he found Jagr waiting for him.
The leader of his Ravens was a towering Goth warrior with dark blond hair and features that looked like they’d been carved in granite. Dressed in black leather with a sword in his hand, he was an imposing sight.
“Talk to me,” Styx commanded.
“A female appeared just outside the gates, demanding to see you,” Jagr said, his tone revealing his opinion of unwanted visitors. “She claims to be Fallon.”
Styx jerked in surprise. “Christ.”
“Do you want me to call for the starchy prince?” Jagr asked.
With a sharp shake of his head, Styx moved to jog up the nearby staircase. He’d waited weeks to discover the location of his brother. He intended to find out what the hell happened.
Now.
“Not until I’ve had a chance to talk to her.”
“Are you sure? We aren’t entirely certain just what powers she has.” Jagr easily kept pace at his side, his expression even more grim than usual. “For all we know she’s responsible for causing Cyn’s disappearance.”
“Then it’s all the more imperative that I speak with her.”
Jagr muttered a low curse. “You’re a pain in the ass to guard. You know that, Styx?”
Styx sent his friend a wry smile. “You can take comfort in the knowledge I’m too stubborn to die. Where did you put her?”
“I left her on the front veranda,” Jagr grudgingly revealed. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No.” Halting at the top of the steps, Styx nodded back toward the dungeons. “Keep an eye on the prisoner as well as the prince. I don’t want any fey surprises biting me in the ass.”
With the unwavering loyalty that made him Styx’s most trusted Raven, Jagr gave a nod. “You got it.”
Confident his back would be protected, Styx headed directly to the foyer, catching the intoxicating scent of champagne as he pulled open the door.
His brows arched at the sight of the tall, slender female with a golden tumble of hair that held highlights of a cresting dawn. Her eyes were a rich amber flecked with emerald and her features perfectly carved.
Hell, who would blame Cyn for wanting to disappear with this female?
Of course, he wasn’t yet sure that Cyn had gone anywhere willingly.
Folding his arms over his chest, he silently studied her tense expression and the way she was twisting her hands together. As if she was struggling to keep some raging emotion under control.
“You wanted to see me?” he demanded.
She flinched at his frigid tone, but grimly held her ground. “Are you the king?”
“I am.”
“Thank God,” she breathed, shivering as a sharp breeze whipped through the air. In the hour just before dawn the temperature in Chicago dipped well below freezing. “You have to help.”
“Help who?”
“Cyn.”
Styx stepped forward. Fallon might look as fragile as a fairy, but there was always the danger one of the Chatri could form a burst of light that was lethal to demons.
“What have you done with him?”
“Not me,” she protested. “It was . . .” She bit her lip, her eyes darkening with regret. “I don’t know. I can explain when we get there.” She held out her hand. “Come with me.”
Styx flicked a brow upward. He didn’t doubt she was genuinely frantic, but there was no way in hell he was going to be led into a trap.
“Come where?”
She hissed with impatience, waving her hand toward his house. “I can’t create a portal here. I’ll have to do it outside the magical barriers you have around your lair.”
“You think I’m just going to follow you into a portal?” He shook his head. “I’m not the smartest vampire in the world, as Darcy will happily assure you, but I’m not stupid.”
Her lips thinned, her chin tilting to a stubborn angle. “Cyn has been injured and I don’t know how to help him. Levet said to come to you.”
Styx stiffened, not sure if he was more troubled by the thought that Cyn was hurt or that Levet was somehow involved.
“You know the gargoyle?”
She nodded. “He’s staying with us.”
“Where?”
“At Cyn’s lair.”
“Impossible.” Styx had his people out searching for the missing clan chief for weeks. There was no way they wouldn’t have known he was back in Ireland. “I would have heard if he’d returned to his home.”
“We had to keep it a secret,” she insisted.
Styx narrowed his gaze. A convenient story.
“Why?”
She glared at him with rising frustration. Styx had seen that look before. He didn’t doubt she was considering the pleasure of zapping him with her fairy power.