Sacrifice of Darkness - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,3
of any.”
Javad stepped forward. An air of suppressed violence vibrated around him. It wasn’t just his position as manager of the Viper’s Nest that made him the top demon in Vegas. It was the power that thundered through him. Even now, the building trembled beneath shockwaves of energy. Only Chiron, one of the rebel vampires who ran a casino that catered to humans, could hope to match him in strength. It was one of the reasons they tended to avoid each other.
“Think hard, Rupert.” Javad’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Think very, very hard.”
“I don’t have to think,” Rupert purred, stupidly ignoring the threat hanging in the air. “I don’t know anything about any fighting pits around here.”
Javad’s hand moved with the speed of a striking snake, his fingers wrapping around the demon’s throat.
“Wrong answer.” Javad peeled back his lips to expose his fangs.
“Argh.”
“Still the wrong answer.” Javad’s fingers tightened until the male’s face turned a weird shade of dark red.
A roar sounded behind them, and Javad glanced toward a troll who was lumbering in their direction.
“Tell your goon to stay back,” Javad warned, tightening his fingers until the demon’s face turned an even darker shade of puce.
Hmm. Pucier?
The rombo desperately gestured toward the large demon, who stumbled to a puzzled halt. Javad turned back to Rupert.
“Now, one last time. Tell me where I can find the fight club.”
“It’s out in the desert someplace,” the male choked out, gasping for air.
“Be more specific.”
Dark eyes flared with crimson flames. “I can’t. It’s always moving. Plus, it’s hidden behind layers of illusion.”
“Who runs it?”
“I don’t know.”
Javad lifted the demon until his feet dangled off the floor. Behind them, the troll growled in fury, but he wasn’t stupid enough to try and interfere.
“You never learn, do you?” Javad smiled. “Give me a name before I start ripping off body parts. Starting with that lump of flesh between your legs.”
That did it. Males were males, no matter what their species. Start threatening the family jewels, and they would betray their own mother.
“A vampire called Vynom.” Rupert coughed, his breath wheezing through his crushed throat. “And before you ask, I’ve never talked to the male, he’s never visited this club, and I’ve never been to the pits.”
Javad allowed the creature to dangle off the floor for another minute, then he dropped him with a flick of his wrist. For the moment, he would accept that Rupert was telling the truth. If he discovered he was lying, he could always kill him later.
“Who has been to the pits?”
Rupert regained his balance, glancing toward the crowd of rowdy demons. Javad suspected that he was more interested in hiding the crimson flames in his eyes than checking out his customers. Those eyes would reveal his heritage and stir up awkward questions.
“None of these losers,” the bar owner muttered. “Only the most elite fighters are invited.”
Javad abruptly turned and headed toward the door. The name Vynom had hit him with stunning force. He didn’t want anyone to detect his unwelcomed sense of vulnerability. All demons were predators. They would strike the second they suspected any sort of weakness.
Besides, he’d just caught a familiar scent. One that he hadn’t expected in this seedy establishment.
Keeping his pace slow and steady, Javad retraced his steps out of the club, pretending to ignore the numerous demons who watched him leave with speculative gazes. Then, following the surprising scent, he rounded the side of the low building to glare at the vampire leaning against the crumbling stucco.
Viper. Clan chief of Chicago. And Javad’s current master.
The male had long, silver hair as pale as the moonlight and dark eyes that held a mocking amusement. His face was lean and far too perfect to be anything but a vampire. And while he wasn’t as tall as Javad, he was equally slender. Tonight, he was dressed like a Regency dandy, in a dark green velvet coat and silk pants, with a lacy white shirt. He should have looked ridiculous. Instead, he was as regal as any king.
Javad folded his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here?”
Viper arched a brow. “Hello, Javad. Wonderful to see you. How are you? Good, I hope. And me? Why I am in excellent health.” He ran a slender hand down the emerald pile of his coat. “Is that a new jacket? Why yes, it is. A gift from Shay. Thanks for noticing.”
Javad rolled his eyes. Viper’s sense of humor was almost as peculiar as his choice in fashion. Of