“Trouble?”
“There are whispers among the fey that there have been sightings of Sylvermyst.”
“Impossible.” Tane instinctively denied the nasty possibilities. The Sylvermyst were the distant cousins of the fey with a taste for evil that made vampires seem like boy scouts. “They were banished centuries ago along with the Dark Lord.”
“So were any number of creatures who’ve managed to make unwelcomed appearances over the past year,” Uriel said dryly.
Tane grimaced. “True enough.”
With a sudden motion, Uriel whirled the sword over his head and shoved it into a leather sheath strapped to his back. “Why are you here, Tane?”
More amused than offended by his companion’s blunt approach, Tane smiled.
“Obviously Victor didn’t hire you for your diplomatic skills.”
“He hired me to keep peace.” Uriel’s jaw tightened. “Something that’s been difficult enough lately without tossing a Charon into the mix.”
Tane flicked a brow upward. He sympathized with Uriel’s predicament. The growing unrest throughout the demon world was a bitch for everyone. But he was here with a purpose and no one was standing in his path.
“Are you trying to imply I’m unwelcomed?”
“Having you here is like throwing gasoline on a smoldering fire.”
“It’s not my fault you can’t control your peeps,” Tane mocked. “Peeps?”
“Minions? Flunkies? Sycophants?”
Uriel made a sound of impatience. “Our minions aren’t the only ones who are restless. It feels like the entire world is sitting on a powder keg. Your arrival …” Uriel bit off his words, shock widening his eyes. “What the hell? Is that a Jinn? And gargoyle?” He glanced over Tane’s shoulder. “Shit, do you have a death wish? Victor is going to kill you.”
“Many have tried.” Tane stepped forward, done with the polite chitchat. He needed to get Laylah to safety. “I seek asylum. Will you offer it?”
“As if I have a choice,” Uriel muttered. “Styx has commanded that his Charons be given whatever they request. That’s a pretty big trump card to carry around.”
Tane curled back his lips to flash his fangs. “I have bigger.”
“Fine,” the younger vampire grudgingly conceded. “You can stay in the dungeons.”
“Uriel …”
“Hear me out.”
Tane narrowed his gaze. “Talk fast.”
“As I’ve said, the natives have been rumbling and it’s my duty to keep complete chaos from erupting,” Uriel pointed out. “The dungeons are wrapped in illusions and protected by hexes. It should keep your presence in London concealed. At least until Victor returns.”
“And an effective means of locking me in an inescapable cell.”
Uriel’s sharp laugh echoed through the cramped tunnel. “And risk the wrath of our Anasso?”
Tane allowed his power to bite through the air. “Styx’s wrath would be the least of your worries.”
“Bloody hell, I got it.” Uriel held up a hand. “Trust me.”
Tane shoved aside his initial reaction and forced himself to consider the suggestion. He truly didn’t fear that Uriel would try and trap a Charon. Despite his skirmish in the cave, few vampires were that stupid. And the dungeons would offer Laylah the concealment she so desperately needed.
For now he could put aside his massive pride.
“I suppose they would provide a temporary protection. Are there any prisoners?”