“So?” Troy shrugged. “You’re thousands of years old. I imagine you’ve been everywhere before.”
Levet sniffed. The male made him sound as if he was ancient. Granted, he was no spring turkey, but he was still in his prime. Indeed, if he was any more prime he would be…Well, he wasn’t sure what he would be, but it was very, very prime.
“I have been here recently,” he clarified.
Troy wrinkled his nose, his gaze skimming over the bluff to the river far below. “I can’t imagine why. There’s nothing here but mud and bugs. Two things I detest.”
Levet shrugged. He wasn’t fond of mud either, but he wasn’t complaining. At least not out loud. Squaring his shoulders, he took charge of the situation.
“Follow me.”
Troy hesitated before reluctantly falling into step next to Levet. “What are you leading me into this time? Quicksand? A dragon’s snare? The pits of hell?”
Levet nodded toward the nearby house. “There.”
Troy sniffed the air. “It smells like vampires.”
“Below us is the Anasso’s old lair,” Levet said, picking up his pace. “It is now used by the Ravens.”
Troy’s eyes darted side to side, as if expecting a leech to leap out of shadows. The imp wasn’t afraid. He was too arrogant for that. But no demon would willingly trespass in the King of the Vampire’s private territory.
“Shouldn’t we call and let them know we’re coming?” Troy demanded. “I already owe a strange nymph some mysterious debt. I’m not adding vampires to the list.”
“Styx will not mind,” Levet blithely assured his companion. “Besides, it will soon be dawn. I need to get out of the sun.”
Troy heaved a resigned sigh. “I don’t suppose they have a Starbucks in there, do they? I’d kill for a blueberry muffin and a cappuccino.”
Levet pressed a hand against his rumbling stomach. How long had it been since he’d last eaten? Too long.
“Mmm. Blueberry muffins.”
Chapter 16
Styx was leaning against the mantle of the marble fireplace, sipping a well-earned glass of aged whiskey. The long, elegant room had dozens of chairs and sofas and puffy things that Darcy called chaise lounges, but he never sat in them. They were froufrou furniture from the palaces of France and built for beauty, not to bear the weight of a six-foot-five vampire.
But while he never felt completely comfortable in the room, he did love the aged, leather-bound books that lined two of the walls and the large window that offered a view of the rose garden.
Standing next to the side table, Viper poured himself a glass of the whiskey. The younger male had arrived moments ago, his face more pale than usual and his immaculate velvet jacket coated in dust. Styx might have poked fun at his friend if he hadn’t been equally unkempt. It had been a long, tense night that he hadn’t been entirely sure they were going to survive.
It had taken its toll on all of them.
“How many?” he asked as Viper strolled to stand next to the window.
Viper knew exactly what he was asking. There was only one thing on their minds right now. Capturing every rebel who skulked out of the tunnels before they could carry out their traitorous plans.
“We collected sixty-three as they were leaving the tunnels and another fifty who made it to the parking lot.”
Styx nodded. “There were nearly two hundred scattered throughout the airport.”
“I have several squads sweeping the city for any rebels who might be trying to sneak away.”
“Good.” Styx drained his glass and set it on a bookshelf. They had no idea exactly how many demons had been working with Maryam, but he was confident that they’d already scooped up the majority of them. “I’ve put out a reward for any rebel found hiding. It’s large enough to encourage every demon in the city to join the hunt. Eventually, they’ll all be rooted out.”
Viper ran a weary hand through his hair. “You got ahold of all the clan chiefs?”
“They’re going to contact the local covens to create the same dampening spell we used here. That should prevent any accidents until the imp can disable the devices.”
Styx shuddered. He’d seriously underestimated Maryam. He accepted that she was trying to topple him as king, but it hadn’t occurred to him that she would be willing to destroy thousands and thousands of demons to accomplish the task.
She was no longer a nuisance. She was a crazed maniac bent on genocide.
As soon as she was in his hands, she was a dead vampire.
Unfortunately, he had no idea when that would be.
As if able to read his dark thoughts, Viper glanced around the library. “Where is Xi?”
“On the hunt for Maryam and Roban.”
Viper stiffened, his fangs lengthening at the realization that the leaders of the rebellion were still on the loose.
“They weren’t headed for the airport?”
Styx’s jaw tightened. He’d expected to find the female vampire waiting for a flight to Vegas after Xi had revealed her bitterness toward Chiron for supposedly betraying his people. Instead, he’d just received a call telling him that they’d managed to sneak past the circle of warriors they had guarding the streets.
“Nope, they escaped through a secret tunnel. Right now, they’re moving south.”
Viper muttered a string of curses. “Does Xi have the Were with him?”
“Yes.” Styx’s brows pulled together as Viper polished off his whiskey in one gulp. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s possible the female is leading him into a trap.”
Styx shrugged. That had been his first thought as well. Brigette had proven she was willing to sacrifice anyone, including her own family, to gain what she wanted. There would be no reason she wouldn’t destroy Xi. But his Raven was confident the Were had changed. He had to trust in Xi’s ability to judge the female’s character.
Viper, however, wouldn’t be so easy to convince. The male was even more cynical than he was.
“He’s been with her for the past few days. Why wait until now to hurt him?” Styx demanded.
“I still don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but someone has to capture Maryam, and I can’t take the risk she is trying to lure me from the city.” The heavy chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling swayed back and forth, the lights flickering, as Styx struggled to contain his burst of frustration. He wasn’t the sort of demon who liked sitting on his ass while his people put themselves in danger. He was the sort that liked to be in front, swinging his massive sword and stomping creatures beneath his heavy boots. Being king, however, meant he occasionally had to grit his fangs and do what was best for everyone. “We need to be prepared.”