Styx grimaced. “They willingly allowed themselves to be anchors?”
“Si. Worthless cowards.”
“Unfortunately, there are always those willing to sell their souls for power. You are certain the demon lord is dead?”
Salvatore took a moment to consider his answer.
During the confusion of the battle with the demon lord, followed by his hasty flight with Harley from the collapsing caves, he’d been too distracted to consider precisely what had happened to Balam.
All he knew was that the ravaging pain was gone, and that the bastard had at least been severely wounded. They never would have managed to escape if he hadn’t been.
It wasn’t until he’d awaken a few hours ago that he’d realized just how dramatically the world had altered.
“I’m not sure anything can kill a demon lord, but I know his connection to this world has been severed.” His lips curled in a smile of satisfaction. “Already I can feel the strength of my packs beginning to increase.”
“I can sense it as well.” Styx regarded him with a steady gaze. “Soon the formidable powers of the Weres will no longer be just an ancient memory.”
Salvatore didn’t miss the hint of warning, and his chin tilted in defiance.
The Weres had spent too long in the shadow of the vamps. He intended to make sure they were given the respect they so richly deserved.
“We will rule as we were intended to,” he said without apology.
Their gazes clashed in a silent battle of wills, then a slow smile curved Styx’s lips.
Like all demons, he respected power.
“It should be interesting.”
“Si.”
“Do you intend to remain in America?”
“Once I’ve concluded my business, I will need to return to my neglected duties as king. It’s been too long since I’ve visited my packs.” Salvatore grimaced, considering the number of months it would take to complete his task before he could return to his lair in Rome. Not that he had a choice. His connection to his packs was something that had to be cherished and nurtured. And the only means to do that was by spending time among them. “I hope Harley enjoys traveling.”
“She is prepared to take her position as queen?”
“She’s…” Salvatore reached for his shirt, yanking it on, although he left it hanging open. There were still a few slashes on his chest healing, and he wasn’t about to risk staining the fine silk of his shirt. “Adjusting.”
Styx’s laugh echoed through the room, and moving to the back cabinet, he poured them both a healthy shot of whiskey, returning to press one glass into Salvatore’s willing hand.
“Have patience, amigo. Female purebloods might be stubborn beyond reason, but they are well worth the trouble.”
“You don’t have to convince me of my mate’s worth.”
“Actually, it was more an offer of sympathy. Your life will never be the same.”
Salvatore snorted. As if he needed a reminder. Already his gut was tied in knots as he struggled between the instinct to return upstairs and force Harley to accept her place as his queen, and his duty to hunt down and destroy the remaining danger to his Weres.
He’d been mated…what? A handful of days?
Cristo.
“For once we’re in perfect agreement.” Raising his glass in a mocking toast, Salvatore downed the whiskey in one swallow. “Salute.”
Styx drained his own glass, and his eyes narrowed. “There is something troubling you.”
Salvatore snorted, setting aside the empty glass. “I thought Viper was the one famed for reading the souls of others?”
“It does not take a special talent to sense your distraction. Is it Harley?”
“Only in part,” Salvatore confessed. “I need you to continue protecting her for the next few days.”
“Of course. She is a welcomed part of my clan…” Styx deliberately paused, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Brother.”
Salvatore shivered, not yet prepared to consider the repercussions of being so intimately connected to a damned leech.
“Merda,” he growled. “Don’t remind me.”
Styx chuckled, thoroughly enjoying Salvatore’s suffering.
“I assume your request has something to do with the unfinished business you mentioned earlier?”
“My curs were in the caves,” he said, his jaw tightening at the memory of Max being tortured and Hess under the compulsion of Briggs. The son of a bitch was going to pay, and pay dearly. “I have to make sure they managed to escape the collapse.”
“I could send my Ravens.”
Salvatore blinked in surprise, acutely aware of the honor that Styx had just bestowed.
The Ravens were personal bodyguards to the Anasso, and the finest trained assassins ever to walk the earth. Styx didn’t loan them out like they were Netflix.
“Grazie.” He dipped his head in gratitude. “But they need my presence. Briggs did more than torture them. He invaded their minds. Only I can heal them.”
Styx nodded. Salvatore’s ability to share healing powers with his Weres and curs was no secret.
“And once you’ve rescued your curs?”
Hot fury poured through his blood like lava. “I intend to hunt down and kill Briggs as slowly, and with as much pain, as possible.”
“You’re certain he survived?”
“Certain?” Salvatore shrugged. “No. But my instinct tells me he’s like a roach that refuses to die. Until I’ve seen his rotting corpse, I’m going to assume he’s out there somewhere plotting more trouble.”
“You intend to face him alone?”
“No one’s allowed the pleasure of killing him but me.”
“I am not disputing your right, but your reasoning.” Styx held his gaze. “I, better than most, understand your desire for vengeance, but you cannot allow it to blind you. You have too much to lose to take unnecessary risks.”
Hell, yeah, he had everything to lose.
A beautiful mate who filled his heart with joy, even when she was driving him nuts.
The opportunity to return the Weres to their former glory.
A new Lamborghini waiting for him in St. Louis.
But that didn’t mean he could ignore his duty.
“There’s no risk. Without being able to call on his master’s powers, Briggs will be helpless.”
“A cornered demon is the most dangerous creature on earth. And you cannot be certain that he has not prepared for such a turn of fate. He could have any number of nasty surprises waiting for you.”