the old hag as well had drained her completely. It would take days to recover her full strength.
Of course, even with only a portion of her powers, she was still capable of killing most things.
Sipping the warm tea with honey that helped to ease her lingering pain, Morgana watched as Modron shuffled into the room.
The seer’s tufts of hair were matted to her skull and she was wearing one of the shapeless dresses that had belonged to the old woman who had called the farmhouse her own—well, at least until Morgana had drained her pathetic life.
Not even the bath that Morgana had insisted the hag take could make her anything less than disgusting.
“The demon is arriving,” the woman rasped, her blind eyes trained directly on Morgana.
“Good. Bring him to me here.”
Modron raised a gnarled hand. “You are still too weak. You should wait.”
Morgana hissed at the chiding words. The hag had been bitching and moaning since Morgana had summoned the Adar demon.
“I gave you a command, hag,” she snapped. “Bring the hunter to me.”
The seer remained grimly poised in the doorway, her ugly face hard with displeasure.
“We wouldn’t need the Adar if you hadn’t killed the fairy.”
Morgana tossed the mug of tea at the aggravating witch. It splintered against the door as Modron easily sidestepped the missile, her cackling laugh echoing through the room.
Morgana hadn’t been happy when her spell had revealed that Sybil was being held in a hexed room. There was no way to trace her and no way to retrieve her without exposing Morgana to unacceptable risk. There had been no choice but to kill the fairy.
“I told you, you stupid bitch, I couldn’t risk having her reveal my interest in the human.”
“You don’t even know if it was the one you seek who captured Sybil.”
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“Oh aye.” The hag gave a shake of her head, the strands of gray hair floating eerily about her wrinkled face. “And now you have nothing more than a corpse you can’t question and can’t find.”
Morgana settled back against the pillows, refusing to be goaded. She had to regain her strength. Until then she was far too vulnerable.
“I have something better than that. If Sybil was captured by the one who holds my brother’s tainted blood, then her body will lead me straight to where I need to go.” A dull chime sounded through the house, warning that something had crossed the barrier she had placed around the yard. Morgana narrowed her gaze with warning. “Go greet the Adar and keep a decent tongue in your mouth. Otherwise I might just allow the demon to take his price out of your flesh.”
With a grimace Modron turned and made her way down the stairs. An Adar demon demanded the blood of the one who requested its services.
That and a rather large amount of gold.
A handful of minutes passed as Morgana carefully smoothed her expression and lowered the quilt to expose one creamy shoulder and a hint of one breast.
Of all her powers, her exquisite beauty was the most potent.
There was no sound before the Adar appeared in the doorway, his movements so carefully controlled that not even the layers of dust on the wood floors were stirred.
He appeared human at first glance. A small, delicate child with the face of an angel and a curly mop of golden hair. His skin was pale, nearly white, and his slight body was covered in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
His eyes, however, revealed his heritage. Too large for his urchin face they were slanted and consumed with an inky blackness. There were also the unmistakable fangs that flashed when he offered a faint smile.
“Mistress.”
Morgana lifted a beckoning hand. “Come closer, Adar.”
“No offense, Mistress, but I would rather stay here,” he purred.
“I don’t need to use my hands to kill you.”
He shrugged as he leaned against the doorjamb. “True, but I prefer the view from here.”
The air shimmered with heat. “You play a dangerous game with me.”
His smile widened, revealing his bottom fangs as well. An angel with a serious bite.
“Is there any other kind of game?” he said, his voice far too deep for his delicate form.
“Enough.” Realizing the demon was impervious to her potent sex appeal, Morgana impatiently tugged the quilt higher. His opportunity had passed and it was time for business. “I have need of your services.”
“You know my price?”
“There is very little I do not know, Adar.”
The black eyes studied her with wary suspicion. He sensed