Styx had reluctantly taken responsibility. For both the death of the Anasso and accepting the duty of king.
“Yeah, I remember.” Viper’s jaw tightened. “He was about to kill Shay.”
“So if you were going to resurrect him, where would you go?”
Viper switched off the powerful engine. Instantly, a deep silence settled around them. It was more than just the quiet of an isolated spot far from a human town. This was the stillness of a place where powerful demons gathered. Woodland creatures were wise enough to avoid the area.
“I suppose I’d go to where he died,” Viper said, following Styx’s train of thought. “Although I can’t imagine there’s anything left but a charred spot on the ground.”
Styx nodded toward the house, which was the main entrance to the extensive caves that tunneled beneath the bluff.
“And how would you get to where he died if the place was surrounded by a dozen of the toughest, most skilled warriors in the world?”
Viper muttered a low curse as he finally realized what Styx was implying. “He had to get rid of the Ravens.”
“Yes. And what better way than to stir up a revolution against me?”
Viper frowned, as if considering the events of the past weeks. “I can understand the annoying harassment that started all of this, but to try and destroy the clan chiefs along with thousands of demons? That seems a little extreme.”
Styx shrugged. “Ian’s an extreme kind of maniac.”
Viper tapped his slender fingers on the steering wheel, obviously wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. Styx didn’t blame him. This wasn’t the first time Styx had dragged the younger male into a potential deadly encounter.
“If we’re going to be facing him, maybe you should tell me more about this Ian,” Viper at last said.
Styx shuffled through his memories, dredging up the first time he’d encountered Ian. It should have been a difficult task, considering the number of creatures he’d known during the endless years he’d been roaming the earth. Who could remember them all? But the night they’d stumbled across Ian would be forever seared into his mind.
“I’m not entirely sure what happened in his past,” Styx said. “But when we found him in the wilds of Siberia, he’d just slaughtered an entire tribe of tundra fairies.”
“Back in the dark ages, most vampires were savages.” Viper flashed a mocking smile. “Including you.”
“He not only slaughtered them; he’d also skinned them to make his clothing and filed their bones to make spears.”
Viper blinked. Most vampires were jaded. It was tough to live for thousands of years and not see the very worst of both demons and humans. Wars. Plagues. Pollution. But there was something particularly noxious about a creature willing to abuse a dead body.
“Gruesome,” Viper muttered.
“It gets worse,” Styx warned. “There were also hints that the fairies had been alive while they’d been flayed and their bones removed.”
Viper shook his head. “Enough.”
“You asked.”
They exchanged a glance of pure disgust, then Viper visibly turned his thoughts away from the mutilated fairies.
“I assume you managed to tame him?”
“He developed a veneer of civilization,” Styx said. “Honestly, he rarely spoke or went out into public. He spent most of his time in the deepest bowels of the lair, protecting the vaults that held the master’s most prized possessions.”
“Alone?”
Styx nodded. He’d been in charge of the Ravens, and he’d deliberately chosen duties for Ian that would keep him far away from the others.
“Yeah. Always alone.”
Viper narrowed his eyes, as if he’d been struck with a sudden inspiration. “What was in the vaults?”
Styx wasn’t entirely sure what his friend was asking. “The usual. Treasures, private correspondence…” He struggled to think of anything else. “Oh, and a few rare artifacts.”
“What kind of artifacts?” Viper pressed.
Ah. Styx belatedly realized where his friend was headed.
The artifacts.
“The former Anasso was a brutal warrior with a talent for inspiring his people, but he was also wise enough to realize his enemies possessed powers he couldn’t fight against,” Styx mused.
“Magic?”
Styx nodded. “That was his greatest fear. A fear that only became worse as the tainted blood drove him insane. He was constantly seeking new ways to protect himself. Illusions, artifacts—”
“The blood of a Shallot demon,” Viper interrupted in a harsh voice, a nearby tree tilting to a weird angle as the ground beneath it collapsed.
Viper had the ability to loosen the dirt and bury anything, no matter how large.
“Yes.” Styx still felt guilty that Viper’s mate had nearly been sacrificed to keep their former master clinging to life.
Viper regained control of his temper. “Could some of the artifacts have included death magic?”
“Possibly.”
Viper continued to tap his fingers on the steering wheel. “So let’s assume Ian possessed some magical item he believed was capable of bringing his master back from the dead. Then he needs to get into the caves where you killed the Anasso to perform his ritual.”
“Yes.”
“But the caves he wants to enter just happen to be littered with Ravens.”
Styx arched a brow. His warriors were the most elite fighters in the world. “I’m not sure littered is the correct term.”
“Polluted?” Viper offered. “Infested?”
“Forget it.”
“Anyway, Ian decides he has to clear out the warriors,” Viper continued. “A task that was easier said than done.”
“No shit,” Styx said dryly. It would take an entire army to overwhelm his Ravens.
“The most obvious choice would be to kill you.”
“A task that is much easier said than done,” Styx echoed Viper’s earlier words.
“No shit.” Viper echoed—or was it re-echoed?—Styx’s words. “And there’s no guarantee it would lure the Ravens from the caves. He needed them to face an enemy that would be dangerous enough to draw them out and elusive enough to keep them distracted.”
“A rebellion,” Styx murmured.
“It makes sense.”