“It would be my honor.”
“And you want a look at my army and the shifters, don’t you?”
“Well, up close would be nice. Though Mila and a few of my other pets have already mapped your vulnerabilities. Your headquarters are lacking.”
She sighed. “I had a feeling that would be the case.”
“Hurry though.” He glanced around. “If we take too long, we’ll end up running into Rolf or Onvyr. And I’m not in the mood to deal with a draugr or elf after my dream.”
“So you had a bad one too?” The poor guy.
“You could say that.” In a blink, he rushed her to the garage and belted into a lovely little black Mercedes. “Apologies, but I heard Rolf.” He backed out of the garage and left, gunning the engine.
“No problem. Let’s not spoil our evening. Not when we have a lot of pretty dead things to play with.”
He smiled and reached for her hand. She squeezed his before yanking her hand back in surprise. She studied it, seeing nothing.
“Problem?”
“N-no.” She put her hand back in his, ignoring the prick of pain from where a dragon scale had sliced her in a dream.
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
They arrivedat the demon house, where a few of Val’s people, the Beast Brigade—which Khent still thought the most ridiculous name—awaited them outside on the front lawn.
Khent felt vindicated when they all, including Val’s friend, Talon, watched him warily, growling or hissing whenever he glanced their way. None of them looked overly impressive, though a set of large twins seemed acceptably aggressive, especially when Khent stared at the female they guarded like a treasure.
Hmm. They had the look of bears, maybe lions. Powerful beasts. Not bad, but nothing that would prove worthy in a fight against Nergal, his demons, and that less-than-human necromancer, Vladimir of the Void.
Still, the way the shifters watched Khent, so carefully, pleased him.
He’d missed that lovely scent of fear.
Val glared at him before stepping forward to hug the traitor. Khent didn’t like the contact, feeling his bloode heat with rage.
Talon had kept his gaze on Khent, and his eyes widened. He stared from Khent to Val then sniffed her. “Oh fuck. Tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
“Why do you smell like vampire?”
Valentine blushed most becomingly. “Probably because I’ve been staying there.”
“No. It’s…” Talon had the temerity to glare at Khent. “I…”
With everyone watching and listening outside under the stars, where they were more vulnerable, even away from most people in this vacated area of the city, Khent would have preferred they take their conversation inside.
Yet the press of death nearby distracted him.
“Where are they?” he asked, interrupting whatever Talon had been about to say.
“Oh, right.” Val perked up, so beautiful, smiling with joy as a large gargoyle landed next to her, dropping out of the sky in complete silence. An impressive entrance.
Not to be outdone, a fresh dead witch walked out of the house and stood by the shifters, who, when spotting her, moved away as if the witch had the plague.
“She’s quite nice. Looks alive.” Khent studied her, aware Valentine seemed to be waiting for his approval.
