Crossing the priceless Parisian carpet, Viper headed directly to the side of the room, pouring himself a brandy before turning to face Styx who was leaning against the heavy desk.
“This had better be important,” Viper growled, tossing the brandy down his throat.
Styx arched a raven brow as Viper set the empty glass on a low, walnut table.
“Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
Viper nailed him with an exasperated glare. “I hadn’t left my bed, Your Majesty. I was enjoying a rare evening alone with my mate.”
Ah. That would explain the pissy mood.
Styx shrugged. “A pity.”
Viper rolled his eyes. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”
“I would be more sympathetic if my own mate wasn’t back in St. Louis,” Styx muttered.
Darcy’s sister had recently given birth to a litter of pureblood Weres and Styx had discovered himself living the life of a bachelor as the females fussed and cooed over the babies.
He tried to be patient, but it wasn’t his greatest talent.
Oh hell, who was he kidding? It was at the bottom of the list of his talents.
Viper grimaced. “I’ve discovered that no mere male can compete with the allure of newborn babes. Even Shay insists on traveling to see them when there isn’t a waiting line outside Salvatore’s lair.”
“Yes.” Styx’s annoyance with Darcy’s absence eased at the thought of Salvatore, the King of Weres, being tormented by endless guests forcing their way into his lair. The arrogant hound was at the edge of snapping. “Poor bastard.”
Viper abruptly chuckled. “Once again I detect a distinct lack of genuine sympathy.”
“True.” Styx smiled. Truce or not, it gave him genuine pleasure to think of the arrogant bastard ripping out his hair. “The dog deserves the aggravation.”
“So why did you require that I come over tonight?” Viper demanded. “Just the pleasure of my sparkling personality?”
Styx’s brief amusement disappeared. “Salvatore isn’t the only one with unwanted houseguests.”
“I thought Sariel was out searching for his daughter?” Viper said, referring to the King of Chatri who claimed that his daughter had been kidnapped by Cyn, the clan chief of Ireland.
Styx snorted. How the hell did this happen?
One day he’d been celebrating the survival of yet another end-of-the-world-disaster, and the next his house was filled with fairies.
Fairies, for God’s sake.
It was enough to make any vampire consider burning the place to the ground.
“He is, but he has left Prince Magnus, his soon-to-be son-in-law, here.”
His tone left no doubt of his opinion of the prince.
Viper scowled. “Why?”
“He claims that he wants Magnus to be here in case Fallon appears while he’s gone.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“Of course not.” As if Styx would trust the word of any fey. Let alone the King of Fey. “Sariel is convinced that Cyn kidnapped his daughter and that I’m helping them remain hidden. He planted that annoying twit in my house to spy on me.”
Viper looked hopeful. “Did you want me to kill him?”