Shades of Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #16) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,37

Or did he toss pride to the netherworld and save himself from having his manly bits wither and die?

He was spared the difficult decision when one of the doors was pushed open and an officious-looking imp in a long maroon robe waved an impatient hand.

“Just let it be,” he commanded in sharp tones. “She’s going to need it anyway.”

Chaaya grimaced. That didn’t sound good. Before she could ask what the hell he was talking about, the original guard poked his sword into the center of her back.

“Get in,” he snapped.

Chaaya forced her feet to carry her through the open door and into the long, cavernous room. She blinked, nearly overwhelmed by the explosion of color and heat and smells.

The high, vaulted ceiling was coated by layers of gold and precious gems. In the very center a massive chandelier spread a bright glow of light over the richly upholstered furnishings and intricately mosaic tiled floor. The walls were hidden behind crimson tapestries, and a dozen fluted columns marched neatly from one end to the other.

There were at least thirty to forty mongrel demons spread around the room. Some were dressed in delicate satin and lace, some in uniforms, and others in rough leather.

A soft groan yanked her attention back to the guards, who were tossing Basq into a corner.

“I’m in,” she rasped, pointing toward Basq. “Now let him go.”

“In time,” a low, cultured voice with a hint of a British accent drawled.

Chaaya spun on her heel, eying the male who was strolling between the columns to stand next to a tall, velvet-covered chair.

He was short for a male, barely an inch taller than her, with a round head that was not only bald but waxed to reflect the overhead light. His ears were oversized, and the lobes hung nearly to his shoulders, revealing his brownie blood. Weirdly, however, he was wearing a three-piece black suit with a pocket watch and spats over his shiny black shoes. He was even carrying a cane.

He looked like a Victorian banker who might invite you over for tea and crumpets. Until you looked into his black, soulless eyes. Then you realized that after serving you tea, he would chop you up and eat you for dinner.

A shiver raced down Chaaya’s spine. “Who are you?”

The male gave a small dip of his head. “Chieftain Dabbler.”

“Dabbler?” Chaaya snorted, deliberately taunting the male. She’d discovered that pissing off people made them sloppy. Right now she needed any edge she could get. “Seriously?”

The male heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I know. A hideous name given to me by my parents. Only one of the reasons I killed them.” He motioned her forward. “And you are?”

“Chaaya.” She strolled toward the male, whistling as she glanced around. “Wow. This is…something.”

“Yes, my father designed it himself.”

“I assume before you killed him?”

His smile was tight-lipped. “We came here to prevent my human mother from aging. She was a human, you see. Soft and fragile.” He motioned his cane around the room. “His palace was his gift to her. A tangible symbol of his love.”

“A charming story.”

“It was.” He heaved a sigh. “Unfortunately they were utterly unreasonable when I suggested that we open our personal paradise to other demons. They were convinced that their privacy was more important than wealth.”

“You disagreed?”

“Fervently.”

Chaaya pretended interest in the demon’s personal history even as she cast a covert glance around the room.

The demons who were wearing the elegant robes and fancy suits were huddled near the walls. Not out of fear, she realized as she caught sight of the braziers emitting clouds of smoke. The incense was no doubt enchanted. That would explain the dreamy look on their faces. The uniformed guards were spread strategically around the exits, ensuring there was no easy way to escape. Dammit.

Her gaze started to skim back toward the strange cluster of leather-clad demons when she was distracted by the golden-haired imp that was tied to a column. Not because he looked terrified. He was probably a captive being punished for some misdemeanor. No, it was the amulet that lay against his gray robe that captured her attention. The last time she’d seen it, the eagle-shaped metal had been around Basq’s neck.

“Cha Cha,” a rough voice called out, pulling her attention toward the towering orc who’d stepped forward.

“You remember my old friend, Tur?” the chieftain asked.

“Turd?” Chaaya tilted back her head to laugh. “That’s a worse name than Dabbler.”

The orc growled but Dabbler studied her with a mysterious smile that didn’t reach his soulless