I met her, she came in the form of a beautiful, naked Seraphian female. She claimed she was being held captive by a Demon Lord. That—that if I would just give her what she wanted, it would save her. In return, she would let me see my future.”
Haven swallowed. “What did she want?”
“Me in her bed.” Loathing rippled across his expression, a powerful, raw hatred. “But after she showed me what I wanted to see, I refused my end of the bargain. I was young and stupid, and by then I had glimpsed the repulsive creature lurking beneath the seductive glamour.”
“But she is Lord Malik’s captive, or was that a lie?”
“Yes. He tricked her with a clever bargain years ago, and now she is his mistress. That was her price. He must visit her bed once a month. In return, she feeds him bits of the future. Enough that he has gained an edge over all the other Demon Lords.”
“Does he know about the mirror portal?”
“Doubtful. He hardly seems the sharing kind.”
So it must have been another Demon Lord who gave him the mirror.
“Why did you go to her a second time?” she asked, searching his face. If the Keeper truly were as hideous as he described, it didn’t make sense to bargain with her again.
Something passed over his face, there and gone. “Because I was desperate to hear that my fate had changed.”
“And had it?”
His jaw flexed. “We should hurry before Lord Malik’s compulsion wears off.” He turned his back to her, lifted the key from his neck, and inserted the dark brass object into the keyhole. Black spiders scurried from the door handle as the ward fell away and the lock turned.
Loudly.
“There goes the advantage of surprise,” Haven whispered.
“Oh, she knew the moment we entered the last corridor.”
The spiderwebs.
“Is this the right time to mention I abhor spiders?” she murmured, just as the door creaked slowly open.
On its own.
Stolas turned to her, his face overcome with an emotion she couldn’t quite catalog. “Wait. I just need to look at you for a moment.” His lashes dipped as he slid his gaze over her, slowly, hardly breathing. “When I close my eyes, I see you dancing still. That was for me, wasn’t it?”
This was hardly the time, but . . . “Yes.”
He met her stare. There was something so bittersweet in his eyes, and she didn’t understand why. “What happened last night between us . . . it wasn’t a mistake.” Then he turned his back to her, murmuring, “It’s time.”
She was still reeling as they entered a large chamber that must have once been a gorgeous sitting room, but was now covered in years of dust. Moonlight flooded the huge windows and illuminated a filmy set of couches and chairs. Paintings covered the walls, and odd knickknacks and personal items were piled in corners. A man’s brown moth-eaten jacket. Spoons and forks and every manner of cutlery. A woman’s tortoise-shell brush still tangled with black strands.
Pearl bracelets and gold cuffs piled on low tables next to worn boots and a dingy whale-bone corset.
Cobwebs covered everything. All of the silver threads led into the next room, a larger grand entertaining hall where Haven glimpsed more art.
“What’s the plan?” she whispered as they padded quietly into the next room, ducking the thick strands of webbing. Their feet left prints in the heavy layer of dust covering the ground.
“I thought I could distract her while you go for the painting,” he murmured.
His wings twitched violently against the cobwebs sticking to his feathers, and she thought she caught him wince. He pressed a hand to his side—the same area he was favoring last night.
“Stolas—”
Scuttling noises came from somewhere high above, like giant spider-legs clicking over marble. A thick canopy of webbing obscured the high ceiling. Her stomach dropped as she saw the complex tangle of strands begin to twitch and shiver.
“Are you gifts from Lord Malik?” came a whispering voice, like soft feathers brushing together.
“Not exactly,” Stolas said. He gestured silently to a wall full of paintings across the room, and Haven snuck toward the gallery as Stolas continued, “Do you remember me, Keeper?”
Dust rained over the floor as the Keeper’s nest shivered with movement.
“Come closer so that I may look upon you,” came the Keeper’s seductive voice.
A soft thud drew Haven’s gaze behind her, and she was surprised to see a woman standing in a shaft of moonlight. She was naked, her body reminding Haven of the voluptuous statues of the