Footfalls echoed our way, along with concerned shouts from the guards—and possibly others as well. I looked at Zen to see if he had any other tricks up his sleeves, but his furrowed brow told me he’d played them all.
That left it to me to try.
With a whispered prayer and a ball of fire in my hand to melt the glass if need be, I rushed over as quickly as I could and reached for the glass. The second my finger brushed the smooth surface, another boom of thunder split the air and sent me flying. Zen caught me as I hurtled toward the wall, stopping me from hitting it, but the pain that coursed through me from the explosion still impaired me.
And time was running out.
With no guarantee that the men coming to investigate the noise were the same ones we’d evaded earlier—the ones from whom Zen’s amulet had concealed us—we had to hide. Our options were all but nonexistent, so we ran into the only place we could: an adjacent hall, as dark as night, that was likely a dead end, given that it was unguarded. But with no other viable option, we stole away down the corridor until the shadows swallowed us whole.
Zen pressed my back against the wall, and I whispered an incantation to call those shadows closer, camouflaging us even further as he leaned against me. My heart hammered against my chest as the faint glow of a lantern bounced off the walls where we’d entered the passage. I struggled against Zen’s body to steal a glance at who or what might be heading for us, but he merely shushed me in response, his lips brushing my ear as he urged me to be silent. His actions did nothing to slow my racing heart.
“If we are caught, just play along,” was all the instruction he gave before his hands slid down my sides and slowly hoisted my skirt. With his body melded to mine and the threat of danger imminent, I tried to calm my breathing and focus on what to do next, but the weight of him and his arousal against me—and the way his fingertips skimmed my thighs as he lifted my dress higher still—clouded my mind.
“There’s no one here,” a gruff voice called out, drawing my attention away from the press of Zen’s tightly coiled muscles. “Everything all right back there?”
“Nothing’s missing,” another man called from the room of treasures.
“Good. Then let’s get going. Which items are next?” The lantern man hovered in the corridor, eyes narrowed at where we hid in the shadows, and my breath cut short, my nerves fraying by the second. We could not afford to be caught. If the man was a human and discovered our presence, I would have to do something to stop him.
And if he wasn’t—if somehow his supernatural ability allowed him to see past Zen’s amulet—I feared what the demon would do.
“It’s the Faberge egg next, then the opal.”
Seconds passed like hours as he inched closer, light extended toward us, until a crash of glass from inside the room spun him around. “Be careful with those!” he yelled, running away. “They’re priceless!”
I let out a shaky breath as he disappeared from sight, but I didn’t dare move—not that I could. Zen’s body remained in place, his hands still upon my thighs as the ruckus in the items room cut through the silence. “We don’t have all night, Harold! Get this out there and ready for bidding!” The men stormed about the room until their heavy footfalls faded as they made their way back down the hall to the auction, I assumed.
“Don’t. Move,” Zen said in my ear. “Not yet.” He shifted enough to stare at me through his hawk-like mask with eyes so dark they were barely visible in the darkness, and I swallowed back the mix of emotions swimming through me. One in particular, far more unnerving than the rest, overtook me, and I soon found myself pressing my body back against his, the strange thrill of nearly getting caught clouding my judgment and fueling my actions. His fingertips dug into the flesh of my thighs in response, and a low growl escaped him just before he pulled away. “We need to get back out there before the opal is sold—or Xandros absconds with it.”
Disappointment and embarrassment washed over me as my skirt hem fell to the floor.
“Fine. Then let’s go.”
With quick, quiet steps, I pushed past him down the hall and through the items room. The Demonheart was gone, and I cursed under my breath as I led the way back to the main door, careful to keep the shadows nearby pulled close. Zen tucked in close behind me, despite my sudden desire to put distance between us.
The guard on whom Zen had used the blue crystal stood at his post, looking as unfazed as he had before, until the scuff of my shoe on the stone drew his attention. Keen eyes turned our way as he reached for the gun in his holster, but the second they fell upon us, they went wide and empty. He slowly stepped back, allowing us to pass unhindered. Zen tipped his hat as he reached past me to push the door open, and we joined the crowd, whose rapt attention was on the exquisite egg on display at the front of the room.
The bidding was already in progress, so we slipped around the perimeter, keeping the man in the wings holding the glass case with the Demonheart in view. I still felt no press of evil beyond Zen’s and the pull of the opal in the distance. Xandros was nowhere to be found, which did little to settle my nerves. The niggling sensation at the back of my skull was unrelenting as we slowly made our way toward the front edge of the crowd.
“Is he here?” Zen whispered in my ear.
I shook my head. “I don’t understand…”
“Nor do I, Andy…nor do I.”
“SOLD!” the auctioneer yelled, slamming his gavel down and pointing at the stuffy old rich man who had won the egg. He beckoned for the next item to be brought forth, and panic gripped my heart. I didn’t know where Xandros was, but I was sure he had a plan—one that would soon be forthcoming.
“Up next is a one-of-a-kind jewel to rival the most beautiful in the land.” The glass case with the shriveled black organ was set on the podium in front of the auctioneer, and a whisper of excitement carried through the room. It was a coveted prize, to be certain. “Bidding will start at ten thousand.”
One by one, hands around the room raised, and the price of the jewel steadily grew to alarming sums as I searched for Ivy and Willow. I found them when the former raised her white-gloved hand in the air to bid.
“That’s twenty-five thousand from the young lady in red. Do I hear twenty-six?”
“Are you sure he’s not here somewhere?” Zen asked as he leaned in close. “Could he have evaded your senses somehow?”
“I don’t know. I think—” My words cut short when I looked at the glass container on the podium—the one the humans seemed able to touch without problem. The one that had sent both of us flying like we’d been shot from a cannon. “He knows he can’t take it,” I said softly, worry blossoming in my gut. “He’s waiting for the winner to collect it…”
I turned to find Zen’s face in mine, brows furrowed with our shared concern. The gavel slammed in the background, jarring me from his intense stare. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a man walking up to the stage with a familiar stride. His face was covered with a shiny chartreuse mask, but his salt-and-pepper hair was undeniable, as was his air of confidence.
Grisholm had arrived.
“Please follow Mr. Mason to the back to pay for your prize,” the auctioneer said, gesturing to the guarded door we’d escaped through only minutes earlier. Mr. Mason collected the glass case and carried it offstage, Grisholm right behind him. And just as they reached the door, a tidal wave of evil unlike anything I’d felt outside the demon realm crashed down upon the basement auction.
My knees buckled under the weight of it, and I clutched Zen’s arm tightly. “They’re here…”
In the distance, I watched Mr. Mason lift the glass case to expose the Demonheart, and I felt the blood rush from my face. Without thinking, I pushed through the crowd, headed for where I knew Xandros would be any second, Zen close behind me. Grisholm was in the line of fire, regardless of his questionably human status, because Xandros could steal him away to the demon realm to get what he wanted, if need be. Ivy’s mentor and the Lilies’ benef
actor would be lost forever, and Xandros would win.
And that couldn’t happen.
Movement in my periphery caught my eye, and I saw Xandros, in all his human beauty, stalking around the perimeter of the room toward the Demonheart. His minions cut through the room in similar fashion, all headed for the same destination. Even as I forced my way through the oblivious auction-goers, I could see that I wouldn’t make it in time. We needed a distraction desperately.
And that was something I could provide.
With a murmured spell on my lips, the gaslights around the room roared to life, shattering their glass enclosures. Screams rent the air as shards rained down upon the crowd, and the flames grew higher and higher as I stoked them into roaring fires. The mass chaos slowed the demons, who were now more apparent than ever, moving against the press of the crowd along with Zen and me.
Shouting and panic filled the space as we ran toward Grisholm and the Demonheart, knowing that Xandros would soon reach them both. A gust of wind blew through the smoky room, and I turned to find Ivy pushing her way through the mob. The blast swirled its way toward the Demonheart, then plucked the jewel from the case and lifted it into the air. Xandros watched the desiccated flying organ, anger blazing in his eyes, and charged toward the witch controlling it.
“Dammit, Ivy,” I growled as she reached up to grab the Demonheart from the air. I called a ball of fire from the nearest wall and shot it at her hand, the glow cutting through the ever-thickening smoke in the room. She cried out as it struck her outstretched hand, burning it instantly.
But a burn was better than being the target of Xandros’ attack.
As the Demonheart began to fall, Zen darted past me and dove for the falling heart of the former king, the thinning crowd leaving room for those of us after the one true prize of the evening. But it was Willow’s hand that scooped the Demonheart from the air and cradled it to her chest. Xandros’ eyes quickly fell on her, and my blood ran cold.
“No!” I screamed as the being who had abducted me charged Willow. The thought of him laying a hand on her propelled me, and I ran for Xandros, plowing into him like a charging bull. I hit him hard enough to drive him backward, his arms windmilling for balance. The feral eyes of the beast within the man fell on me and widened with realization.
“I should have known,” he said as the din of the melee rang out through the room, the bulk of the crowd still struggling to escape up the narrow stairs. “I’ll enjoy killing you both.”
As the smoke grew thicker around us, I drew the hazy air closer to Xandros, encasing him in an opaque cage of grey. I dared a glance to where Willow had been standing, only to find her halfway up the stairs, Grisholm dragging her along behind him. Then Xandros ran through his smoky prison, headed for me. A wall of wind swirled the smoke and slammed into him, knocking him off course, but his minions had rallied and were headed for me—and the source of the wind.
“Ivy, run!” I screamed before I dove to knock her out of the demons’ path. She looked over her shoulder at where I should have stood, Zen’s amulet still rendering me invisible, then shot to her feet. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a storm of dust and smoke through the space, blinding us all temporarily. As my vision cleared, I saw her flying along the ceiling toward the staircase, her tornado of soot hiding her as she hurried to join Willow and Grisholm. As soon as she reached them, the trio disappeared.
At least they’d be safe.
As the comfort of that knowledge calmed me, the demons closed in around me, and Xandros reached to grab me off the ground, his fingertips grazing the hem of my dress. I scurried backward, as I had in the tunnels, but this time, I ran into something firm and warm that steadied me in an instant.
“Time to go, Andy,” Zen whispered in my ear. Then the ground gave way beneath us, and we fell into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We emerged in the demon realm, but only for a moment. Before I could even speak, Zen pulled me tight against his hard demon body, and we were again speeding through space and time until we stood in his bedroom at Whittle House, looking worse for the wear. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathing hard as he held me tight. “I saw no other way.”
Panic gripped me, and I pulled out of his grip to pace the room, thoughts of the Lilies and the danger they were now in flooding my mind. “My sisters—”
“Should be safe, for now. Xandros will be looking for the Demonheart, but with no way to track the opal, he must start his search again.”
“He saw Willow grab it. He knows she has it—”
“Except she gave it to the man who won the auction as they fled.”
“But Xandros doesn’t know that! He’ll use them to find it—”
“It’s possible, provided he was able to follow them, but I assume that they had an escape plan laid out before they ever arrived. Is one of your tunnels nearby?”
I thought for a moment, then nodded. “But he knows of them—”
“He knows of the one you led the demon to. He would not have memorized them and marked their points of entry because he could not possibly have known where all those doors led.”
“And if he knows about the nunnery?”
Zen shook his head. “If he did, he’d have come for your soul long ago. Your Lilies are not so easy to find there—or anywhere, for that matter.”
I stopped and turned to face him. “But you knew…”
“I am the exception, Andy, not the rule.”
My eyes narrowed as I took in his earnest expression, something that seemed so strange on him, given what he was. I wanted to believe him, but so much was at risk if I did. Too much. So instead, I rubbed the cuffs on my wrists and called forth my familiars, much to Zen’s surprise.
“You two are to go to the nunnery,” I said, ignoring the staring demon. “Zella, you are to hide in the alcove and alert me the moment any male other than Grisholm sets foot on the doorstep. Hagan, you are to hide in the library and listen for anything suspicious coming from the Lilies’ base, is that understood?”
Their citrine eyes flashed in acknowledgment of their orders, and the two of them slithered across the floor to the door before disappearing in a puff of smoke. “I’ll feel better knowing they’re keeping watch,” I said.
“As I said, your sisters should be safe for now, but I cannot guarantee how long that will last while they, or the man they entrusted the Demonheart to, possess it. Xandros will have his minions scouring the city for them. We need to collect it before they do.”
“Except Xandros doesn’t know that Grisholm has it—he was rather occupied when you saw it handed off,” I argued, suspicion growing in my gut. “So it’s likely safer with him than any one of us, which makes me wonder why you’re so insistent on collecting it.”
“I’m insistent on collecting it because you have no idea whether or not Xandros saw your sister hand it over to this mystery man,” he said, frustration brimming in his tone. “Perhaps you’re right and he didn’t. In that case, it’s possible that it’s safer in his possession. But if you’re wrong? If he did? At best, Xandros will hunt down the man and take it. At worst, he’ll find your sisters and torture them until they give up the Demonheart’s location—and we both know just how relentless Xandros can be when it comes to something he wants.”
Yes. I did. I knew exactly what Xandros would do to the Lilies if he got his hands on them, and my suspicion of Zen quickly turned to terror at the thought of my sisters being chained and beaten in the demon realm. Memories assaulted me—as did my fire. “We must destroy him before he gets to them—or the opal.”
With a deep breath, I tried to think past the anger and exhaustion clouding my mind. If Grisholm had the gem, as I suspected he did, we needed more information. I knew next to nothing about the man, where he lived, or even what he was. We couldn’t just waltz into his home and take it off his hands. We needed an actual plan, and that was more than I could handle at the moment. My wits were most certainly not about me.
&nbs
p; I needed whiskey.
Discreetly checking to make sure the hall was empty, I ran across to my room and pulled a bottle out from under my bed before darting back to Zen’s. With no glasses in sight, I opened the bottle and took a swig. You could dress me up in finery, but the pants-loving witch beneath it all was still who she was.
By the third sip, Zen seemed rather irritated by my antics. “Do you know who has the Demonheart?”
“I do.”
“And are you trying to drink yourself to death to avoid telling me?”
“That’s not why I’m drinking.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because I’m angry—”
“You’re always angry—”
“—and frustrated. On edge—”
“As am I.” His expression sobered for a moment. “And that will only get worse if you refuse to tell me who has the opal.”
“Telling you won’t help.” I took another long drink, and his eyes narrowed.
“Your lack of confidence is overwhelming and duly noted. Now, tell me.”
“Why?” I snapped, waving the bottle around. “What will you do if I tell you? Leave me here while I sleep and hunt him down to retrieve it for yourself? Kill the one who stands in your way, since I’m almost certain he isn’t human? Because he will, you know. He will not let you—a demon—have it without a fight.”
His brow furrowed in confusion, frustration, or anger—I couldn’t tell. The quarter bottle of whiskey I’d drunk had most definitely eased my anger somewhat, but it had done nothing to clear my mind. “I will go there with you and procure it. That is what I will do, as I have said all along. Do not continue to paint me as your enemy when I am not, Andy. You won’t like the image you create.” I bit my tongue and took another sip. Zen shook his head in admonishment and snatched the bottle from me with lightning speed. “Such abhorrent manners you have,” he said, putting it to his lips and taking a drink. “Keep it up and I shall have to teach you some—”
A Curse of Nightshade (Witches of the Gilded Lilies Book 1) Page 20
