“There were some of his demons here when last we came.” Wrath drew his gleaming obsidian broadsword. “I’m getting nothing. You?”
“Nothing.” Haziel grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow with a heaven-wrought tip.
Unnatural quiet hung about the palace as if it was holding its breath.
“Even with Shade not here, his demons should be here,” Wrath murmured as he moved forward like a prowling predator.
The gleaming wooden doors hung ajar. Carved into the doors, figures were doing things that brought instant heat to her cheeks and fresh fodder for her imagination.
Stopping, Wrath glanced over his shoulder. “Want to stop a minute and take notes?”
“Pfft!” She matched his teasing tone. “Perhaps you are the one who needs to take notes.”
Wrath chuckled and edged the door farther open. “I’ve already made a detailed study.”
The dying sunlight filtered through a domed glass ceiling and cast soft light on the atrium it sheltered. A large pool graced the center of the long, impressive chamber, and jewel-toned fish darted about its azure water.
Tall, graceful pillars draped in silk flanked the pool, and beyond them, shadowy alcoves beckoned to passersby to take a moment to sink into their silken depths and indulge their wants.
Haziel suppressed an image of a naked Wrath spread over crimson silk.
The lust seal pulsed virulently, and she had to dig her nails into her weapon to stop herself from tackling him into the nearest alcove. Her breasts ached, and her nipples pressed through her linen shirt. Moisture pooled between her thighs, and each beat of her pulse drummed in time to the lust seal.
Wrath cleared his throat and shook his head. “Balls! That thing packs a punch.”
“Yup.” Haziel clamped her teeth shut before a lurid confession escaped her.
His fighting leathers cupped an impressive erection. And Haziel barely suppressed a groan. She’d give two sets of wings to be that leather right now.
Stopping, Wrath tensed and whipped his head to their right.
Then Haziel felt it, the distinctive energy signature of a high order demon.
“Lord Wrath.” A tall demon with finely cut features beneath gleaming onyx skin stepped into the atrium. The faint silver glimmer of a defensive shield shimmered around his lithe form. Clasping his hands before his chest, he bowed to Wrath and then her. “Seraph.”
“Fallen.” She kept her arrow nocked as she returned his bow.
The demon strolled closer, his silk lounging pants fluttering around his shapely legs. Of course Shade would populate his court with sensual and beautiful beings. The demon pressed a slim, elegant hand to his naked chest. “I am called Apassionata.”
“Are you here alone?” Wrath lowered his sword.
Taking that as a good sign, Haziel eased the tension on her bow string.
Apassionata’s shield shimmered and disappeared. “The others have all fled.”
“Fled?” Wrath sheathed his weapon in the scabbard across his back. “Why?”
“There have been a series of attacks.” Apassionata lowered his head. “Some from your realm, Lord Wrath.”
Wrath reared back as if Apassionata had struck him. “My demons are forbidden from attacking this demesne.”
Haziel’s heart twisted. Wrath loved his daughter so much he had declared a truce on his perpetual enemy because of her. He blustered, he fought, and he loved with such intensity. It was impossible to remain neutral about such a being.
“Forgive me, lord.” Apassionata glanced at her. “I misspoke. The attacks have come from mixed hordes. Some of Lord Lust’s joined before I could prevent them.”
“Are you telling me that you are all that remains of Shade’s horde?” Wrath glowered at Apassionata.
Apassionata smiled and it made his perfect face warmer and reflected in the honey of his eyes. “Not all joined our attackers,” he said. “Some merely chose not to stay here and become targets. They have hidden and are awaiting the return of our lord.” He shrugged, an effortlessly elegant gesture that Haziel wished she could imitate. “I have the means to defend myself and was elected to remain and protect the palace.”
Haziel had fought enough high order demons to know that despite his suave exterior, if he was the only remaining demon, Apassionata had all kinds of nasty tricks he could deploy.
“May I enquire as to why you are here?” Apassionata managed to say those words without sounding like a challenge, but somehow making it clear that it was a challenge.
Heavens, but Haziel wished she could achieve that.
“We are merely passing through,” Wrath said. “We are on our way to the hell gate, and I wanted to check on the condition of the lust seal.”
As if in answer to his question, the seal sent out a hearty pulse that turned Haziel’s blood to lava and her good sense to oblivion. Before she could stop herself, she inched closer to Wrath.
Apassionata gave her an understanding glance. “It weakens daily. Our lord should be here.”
“Your lord is searching for my daughter.” Wrath’s tone turned to steel and ice.
Apassionata inclined his head. “As we have heard, Lord Wrath. We are sympathetic to the quest of our lord. Love is such a precious rarity, is it not?”
Wrath growled, and to her surprise, Apassionata chuckled.
Time to step in before the blood flowed and the feathers flew. “Have you any news on how many of these rogue hordes are in the demesne?”
