“Oui.” Levet’s wings fluttered at the comparison. He adored Scooby Doo. What could be better than a funny dog who solved mysteries? “Only without the yummy snacks,” he added with a small sigh. “A shame. I do enjoy a snack. Even one that is not a Scooby.”
Troy sauntered down the wide hallway, halting now and then to peer into one of the shadowed rooms.
“And what do clues look like?”
“Styx claims that the old Anasso had a secret vault hidden down here where he kept his private scrolls.”
Troy sent him a confused glance, the top of his manly man-bun nearly brushing the low ceiling.
“So the clue is in the vault?”
Levet rolled his eyes. “You will never be a member of the Scooby gang.”
“Is that supposed to make me sad?”
Levet shook his head. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so grumpy. Not everyone was blessed with his own clever brain. Obviously, he needed to speak more clearly. Or perhaps more slowly. Imps could be quite stupid.
“Styx wants to know if anyone has recently been down here and if they managed to open the vault to steal the scrolls inside it.”
“Ah.” Troy stifled a yawn, already bored with the explanation. “Now the deeper question. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you the one who is searching for signs of an intruder in this moldy crypt?” Troy clarified. “Shouldn’t it be the responsibility of the vampires?”
Ah, indeed. That was a question that Levet often asked himself. It was not as if he was a member of their clan. Thank the goddess. He had no desire to be an unofficial vampire. And yet they always sought him out in times of trouble.
“They do not have my specialized skills.”
“And what specialized skills are those?”
“I can see through illusions. Smell magic. Follow a trail that not even a hellhound can detect.” Levet happily shared his awesome abilities. Not that he should have to. Troy had seen him in 3Z…no wait…3D action before. “Why are you asking?”
The imp shrugged. “Inga is concerned. She believes you were sent here because it is dangerous and the vampires don’t want to put themselves at risk.”
“That is probably true.” Levet’s wings drooped. He wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t realize that the leeches would happily sacrifice him. Of course, on the plus side, it was pleasant to know that Inga was worried about him.
Troy sent him a curious gaze. “Then why are you here?”
“Because it is my duty.”
They turned into a narrow passage that led toward the back of the lair. From overhead, Levet could catch the scent of mud.
They were at the edge of the River Thames.
“Duty to whom?” Troy inquired. “You were kicked out of the Gargoyle Guild, weren’t you?”
Levet scowled. “You don’t have to remind me.”
“So who are you trying to impress?”
The passage narrowed even further, and the air seemed oddly thick, as if it was trying to push them back. Levet grimly pressed on.
“None of your business,” Levet muttered.
“If you’re hoping to convince Inga you are a male of worth, you don’t need to bother,” Troy drawled. “For whatever reason, she believes you are some sort of hero.”
“I am a hero.” Levet puffed out his chest. “I have saved the world on three separate occasions.”
Troy held out his hand, as if feeling the air. Did he sense the thickness that was swiftly becoming oppressive?
“So you claim,” he murmured in absent tones.
“Do you not believe me?”
Troy clicked his tongue with blatant impatience. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. Inga simply wants you to stay out of danger. Is that so much to ask?”
Levet’s breath was squeezed from his lungs at the thought of Inga. The female was three times his size, with a magical trident that could destroy large cities, but in many ways she was vulnerable. His place should be standing at her side, offering her comfort and, occasionally, his sage advice.
But here he was, trudging through the abandoned lair instead of comfortably settled in the mer-folk castle. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Inga. Just the opposite. But he was compelled to complete his mission.
Levet hunched his shoulders. “As I said, it is my duty.”
“Duty to who?” Troy wrinkled his nose. “Or is it whom?”
“Duty to moi.”
“Why?”
Levet glared at the imp. It was time to turn the…What was the word? Chairs? Sofas? Tables?
“Why are you assisting Inga to become a proper queen for the mer-folk?” he demanded of the imp.
Troy widened his eyes, as if confused by the abrupt question. “Am I? How tedious of me. No one should be proper.”
“Fah.” Levet’s tail twitched around his feet. A sure indication of his annoyance. “That is not an answer.”
They walked in silence, as if Troy was considering his words. “Boredom,” he at last admitted. “Plus the pleasure of tweaking your nose. Oh, and watching the mer-folk squirm.” A humorless smile twisted his lips. “The arrogant little twits deserved to be punished for treating Inga like an interloper.”
Levet believed him. Troy was the sort of imp who enjoyed being as annoying as possible. But that didn’t fully explain his fierce devotion to ensuring that Inga was accepted as Queen of the Mer-folk.
“And?” Levet pressed.
Troy shrugged. “And the desire to accomplish something meaningful in my rather meaningless existence.”
His words perfectly captured that nebulous hunger that drove Levet to charge into danger.
“Oui. That is why I do it as well.”
Troy glanced down, and they shared a long, rather rueful glance. “We have more in common than I originally suspected.” He released a sharp laugh that echoed through the empty passages. “A horrifying thought.”
“Truly horrifying.” Levet shuddered, although it wasn’t so much a reaction to Troy’s words as the sense of dread that was beating against him like a physical force. “Wait,” he muttered.
The imp came to a sharp halt. Troy might enjoy pretending to be a buffoon, but he was a stunningly powerful male who possessed magic that could make grown trolls tremble in fear. More importantly, he was smart enough to accept Levet’s ability to sense danger without question.