There were cameras strategically hidden throughout the entire fortress just in case Hunters snuck past their gate and traps, but not in any of the bedrooms. They’d all agreed. If the enemy could bypass everything else and enter one of the rooms, the Lords deserved to die. Privacy was that important.
If Amun ever regained his senses completely, he’d be pissed as hell about the new cameras. But better his fury than his murder.
Zacharel straightened from the post. “I’ll inform my men of what is to transpire.” With that, he turned with the fluid grace of a dancer and strode from the room.
A dancer? Seriously?
Strider’s cheeks heated a whole hell of a lot more than before.
When Torin made no comment about his blush, he relaxed against his pillows. As a sigh left him, he realized how tense he’d been in the angel’s presence. Now he scanned the bedroom, allowing the familiarity of his surroundings to comfort him further. His weapon collection decorated the walls, everything from ancient swords to modern-day firearms.
Only thing hanging on the wall that wasn’t a weapon was the portrait just over the bed. No. Not true, he thought then. The portrait was a weapon, too. Of seduction. In it, Strider was utterly naked and whisking through the clouds like an avenging angel. He was holding a teddy bear in one hand and a stream of pink ribbons in the other.
Anya had given him the nearly life-size monstrosity as a joke. But the joke was on her. He loved the damn thing.
“Where are the others?” he finally asked. “The other day you told me they were out and about, but not where exactly. Or why. I’ve had a little time to think this through, and I realized they don’t need to keep the artifacts out of the fortress anymore. The Hunters aren’t swarming us like before. Word on the street is they vanished, which is bizarre, but Cronus says not to worry—and yeah, I talked to him, he just popped in the other day for no apparent reason—so I’m not worried. Which means you aren’t, either. Which means the boyz are away for a different reason. Right?”
Torin’s sigh was an echo of his. “It’s just too dangerous around here, what with the angels being demon assassins and Amun visiting the dark side. Aeron, Olivia, Legion, William and Gilly are the only ones still here. Not because I need help, but because they’re too weak to leave. And well, Aeron has taken the blame for Amun’s condition and refuses to leave him. Not that you’ve paid any of them a visit, you slacker.”
Gods, he was, wasn’t he? “Thank you for shoving me down the shame spiral. How are they?”
“The guys are still recovering from Hell Week, and the girls are taking care of them. Well, except for Legion. She refuses to get out of bed.”
Aeron must be worried about her, too. Strider really should have checked on him. On all of them. I’m a self-absorbed prick.
“The rest of the crew is spread out,” Torin said, “and I no longer have their locations. I told them not to tell me anymore, to just check in at least once a day so I’d know they were alive.”
“Why don’t you want to know where they are?”
“With the little Hunter here, the less I know about them, the better.”
True. “So, any news? Gossip?”
“You want gossip, you’ve come to the right place, my man.” Some of the tension drained from Torin’s features as well, and he rubbed his hands together. “Ashlyn’s pregnant.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know, moron.”
“Yeah, but did she know she’s carrying twins?”
“No shit?”
“No shit. A boy and a girl. Fire and ice, Olivia said.” Olivia, the angel. She wasn’t like the assassins currently living here, but a joy-bringer. Aeron’s joy-bringer, in fact, and the girl did her job well. The somber bastard had never been so…smiley, for lack of a better word. It was straight up weird. “Can you imagine twin demon hellions running around this place?”
“No.” Strider had never spent any time with kids and wouldn’t even know how to hold one. Or what to say to one. Or what to do when one vomited on his favorite sword. But damn if he didn’t get a kick out of imagining his friends struggling to cope.
“Oh, and get this. Gideon married Scarlet, the keeper of Nightmares.”
“You’re kidding.” Fickle Gideon? Married? Scarlet was gorgeous, yeah, and feisty as hell. Powerful, too. And Gideon had been a tad bit obsessed with her when she’d been locked in their dungeon. But marriage?
Everyone in the fortress had lost IQ points, it seemed.
“He couldn’t have waited until I got back to sign on for double occupancy?” Strider mumbled. “What a great friend.”
“No one was invited to the ceremony, if you catch my meaning.”
“Well, the decision to get hitched is gonna give him nightmares.” Strider snickered. “Get it? Nightmares?”
“Har, har. You’re a borderline fucktard, you know that?”
“Hey, I’m not going to apologize for being on my A game. Why don’t you step up to the plate and join me, Junior League?”
Torin ignored him. “It’s weird, don’t you think? Two demons hooking up?”
Strider peered at him, blinked. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Why?”
“One word—Cameo. And you. Okay, so three words.”
Torin snapped his teeth at him. “Whatever. We were talking about Scarlet. Which brings me to more gossip. Turns out she’s the only daughter of…wait for it… Rhea.”
What? Rhea? And he hadn’t known? Strider had been way more self-involved than he’d realized. Rhea was queen of the gods, the estranged wife of Cronus, and the bitch helping Galen, keeper of the demon of Hope—and an all around asshole—leader of the Hunters. “How’d Gideon take the news?”
“Well, he tried to kill his mother-in-law.”
“Sweet. But such romantic gestures aside, our boys have gotta start picking their significant others with more care. Gwen is Galen’s only kid, Scarlet is Rhea’s. What’s next?” A Hunter? A participant in Baden’s killer?
Yes, he was a fucktard.
“I’ll tell you what’s next,” Torin said. “Lucifer’s brother.”
“Come again.”
“Did no one tell you? William is related to Lucifer. And Lucifer is the devil, in case you didn’t know.”
“Come again.”
The corners of Torin’s lips quirked with amusement. “I know. Whacked out as hell, but kind of fitting.”
He wouldn’t ask again. He wouldn’t. “How?” Damn! The question escaped before he could stop it.
“Don’t know. William refused to spill. Needless to say, things have been pretty festive around here. So, anyway. You’re back, and you’re kind of healthy, so I can ask the question I’ve been holding in for three days. Where the hell is the Cloak of Invisibility? I looked through your stuff, your room, but couldn’t find it.”
Oh, shit. Now it was his turn to drop a news bomb. “About that…”
CHAPTER EIGHT
HAIDEE PROWLED THE CONFINES of her cell.
She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d been pushed inside. She was alone. Food and water had been brought to her only once. The fruits and nuts and crisp, clean water had somehow curbed her hunger completely, strengthening her in a way she couldn’t explain.
Oh, and the food had been delivered by an angel—a freaking angel living in a demon’s den. That still had her reeling. But she now knew beyond a doubt she was in the Budapest fortress. As they’d dragged her down here, she’d spotted wear and tear from a recent bombing. A bombing she hadn’t been involved in, but one she’d heard all about.
Enough time had passed for Micah—“Amun,” Defeat had called him—to have suffered countless fates. Torture, relocation, even death. The thought of each had sent her into a near hysteric state. She’d clawed the walls until she had no nails left. She’d beaten the bars until her knuckles had cracked and swelled. She’d screamed for answers until her voice had fractured.