his silly car ran off the road and into a pole? I could not know a cat would wander into the street as I was turning the corner.” He clicked his tongue. “He has been a poopy-head for weeks.”
Javad muttered a startled curse. Levet had taken one of Viper’s beloved cars on a joyride? Christ. Grown orcs wouldn’t be that brave.
“You have more courage than brains,” he muttered. “Of course, that’s not saying much.”
Levet ignored him as he halted next to the rock formation. “There is an illusion here.”
Javad moved to stand next to the gargoyle. He couldn’t see anything but rocks. He would need a beacon specifically tuned to vampires to lead him through the illusion. Or a three-foot gargoyle, who was giving him a headache.
“Is it the pits?”
Levet wrinkled his nose. “It smells like pits. Why are they always so stinky?”
Javad could tell the gargoyle that the smell came from a toxic brew of fear and hate and desperation. Instead, he squared his shoulders, anticipation surging through him.
At last. Reaching up, he touched the medallion hung around his neck.
Vynom was about to die. Justice would be served, not only for himself, but also for all the innocents who’d suffered because of the male’s insatiable greed.
“Let’s go.”
“Wait.” Levet abruptly reached out to grab Javad’s arm.
Javad shook off the tiny hand, growling in frustration. “What’s wrong?”
Levet sniffed the air. Then, without warning, he scrambled backwards. “It is a trap.”
The words had barely left the gargoyle’s mouth when the ground opened up and swallowed them whole.
Chapter 2
Terra strolled through the gardens, hoping their beauty would ease the restless ache in the center of her soul. It was annoying. She’d spent centuries struggling to squash these abrasive sensations that left her nerves raw.
When she was young, she’d resented everything about the Seraf temple. It didn’t matter that being born with such rare healing abilities was considered the greatest honor among the nymphs. She hated the isolation. The fact that her destiny had been chosen for her. And most of all, she loathed the knowledge that her burgeoning abilities were being wasted.
It’d taken a near disaster for her to accept that the protection of the temple was necessary. Over the years, she’d managed to find beauty in the lush gardens that surrounded her home. And, of course, there was joy in healing the handful of petitioners the Matron approved.
But the restless dissatisfaction had never gone away.
In fact, it’d grown progressively worse.
Annoyed with her futile frustration, Terra turned away from the small lake that glittered beneath the constant sunlight and threaded her way through the tangle of wildflowers that filled the air with a sweet perfume.
As she passed, the small, vivid blooms seemed to reach out to her. She couldn’t exactly talk to them, but they whispered a song in her ear.
Trying to focus on the peace that drenched the isolated pocket between dimensions, Terra reached the back of the temple. The delicate structure surprised the rare visitors who were allowed to visit. Since the veils that protected the temple were dauntingly thick, most of them expected to find some sort of grim fortress.
Instead, the temple was shaped like a giant tower chiseled out of smooth crystal. The peak was tall enough to disappear into the distant clouds, and the base was wide enough to contain a small village. There were also dozens of chambers beneath the ground for visitors who were allergic to sunshine.
Terra paused, using her magic to create an opening in the crystal before entering the public lobby. The vast, open space was empty beyond the delicate chairs that were woven from branches, and the rugs that covered the tiled floor. It wasn’t unusual. Terra could go days without encountering anyone. The temple was large enough to house thousands of Serafs. Currently, there were less than fifty of them in residence.
Serafs had once lived in the world. They traveled from village to village, offering their gifts to whoever needed healing. Then rumors that the blood of a Seraf could protect demons from any harm, no matter how grievous, had started to circulate, and they’d been hunted like animals.
In a desperate attempt to salvage the handful of Serafs that were left, they’d gathered together and used their magic to create the temple. But even then, they continued accepting anyone who arrived on their doorstep. During a plague, they might have thousands of sick demons crowded into the temple.
As time passed, however, they’d become more and more reclusive. The temple had been locked