“Too long,” he said in clipped tones, turning to move down the hallway. “Let’s go.”
Most females would have retreated in fear as the air thickened with his power. Nefri, of course, wasn’t most females. Without seeming effort she was walking at his side, not bothering to hide her curiosity. “Do you ever talk about those days?”
“No.”
“Because they’re too painful?”
He turned to stab her with an annoyed glare. “Do you ever talk about the reason you retreated behind the Veil?”
Her pale features were suddenly wiped of all emotion. “Touché.”
The dungeons of Styx’s lair
Sally wasn’t sure how much time had passed. An hour? Two?
Not that she was in any hurry for her irritating guard to return, she assured herself. He might have the finest butt in the Northern Hemisphere, and the sort of eyes that could make some idiotic women melt, but he was as cold as ice and as smugly superior as every other leech.
Still, she was becoming bored out of her mind stuck in this bleak cell. Not to mention she needed food to replenish her fading strength.
And, with any luck at all the poor schmuck who was stuck playing babysitter to the nasty witch would be a lesser demon.
One she could attempt to use her powers on.
Of course, her luck had been downright shitty over the past few years, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when the door to the dungeon opened and she caught the distinctive scent of a powerful male vampire.
Cold steel and ruthless sensuality.
So much for a lesser demon.
Roke was as lethal as they came.
Crap.
She halted her pacing near the door of the cell, her heart missing a painful beat as he stepped into view. She told herself that it was fear. What female in her right mind wouldn’t be terrified at the sight of a demon who could kill her between one breath and the next?
It certainly had nothing to do with the stark male beauty of his perfectly chiseled face, or the haunting mystery of his strange silver eyes.
No. Nothing at all.
And to make certain she wouldn’t be so stupid as to forget the beautiful creature was anything but her enemy, Roke approached the door of her cell with a dark scowl. Clearly he’d pissed off Styx and was serving some sort of penance. With her as his punishment.
“Stand away from the door,” he commanded, holding a tray in his hands filled with plates of hamburgers, fries, a chocolate shake, Buffalo wings, and deep-fried apple pie.
She planted her hands on her hips, telling herself she wasn’t hurt by the vampire’s barely concealed disdain. What the hell did she care? He was nothing but a . . . a member of the walking dead.
Okay, he was gorgeous and there was a bad boy vibe that some females might find fascinating, but right now she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the nuts.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” she mocked. “The hexes prevent me from using my magic. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m half your size.”
His gaze slid down her slender curves, a muscle knotting in his jaw as he jerked his stare back to her face. Was he repulsed by her less than voluptuous shape?
Well, screw him.
“I never underestimate an enemy,” he retorted. “Especially when they appear helpless.”
“Enemy?” She offered a humorless smile. “I came here to help, in case you’ve forgotten, you ass. So exactly when did I become your enemy?”
“When you tried to unleash the Dark Lord and his minions,” he retorted without hesitation.
She hunched a shoulder, wondering just how long she was going to have to pay for that unfortunate decision.
“I didn’t have any choice,” she muttered.
“You were forced?”
“It was the only way to survive—”
“An easy excuse,” he interrupted her with cold disapproval. “But then I would expect nothing else of a witch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Magic is a cheat against everything that is natural. An abomination.”
“Hey, don’t feel like you have to hold back,” she rasped, acting as if she didn’t give a damn what he thought of her. He wasn’t the first, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last to hate her for no good reason. “What do the feelings of a witch matter?”
Something flared in his silver eyes. Regret? Guilt?
Yeah, and pigs could fly.
Emphasizing his absolute “I don’t give a shit” attitude, he made a sound of utter boredom. “Do you want to eat or not?”
Every fiber of her being wanted to tell him to shove the tray of food up his ass. Thankfully the empty growl of her stomach prevented her pride from overcoming common sense.
What was the point in starving herself? It wasn’t as if anyone would give a damn. And the goddess knew it wouldn’t get her out of this dungeon.
With slow, deliberate steps, Sally backed into a corner, her smile mocking. “Is this far enough, oh mighty leech?”
With a muttered curse, he used his powers to unlock the cell door and stepped inside. “I should let you starve,” he grumbled.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, shivering as the cool surge of his power filled the air. Shiver in fear, she grimly assured herself. Not excitement.
“When can I speak with the Anasso?”
He frowned at her abrupt question, placing the tray on the narrow bed that was her only furniture.
“Why?”
“Obviously to plead my case.”
Straightening, Roke regarded her with an unreadable expression. “You’ll remain here so long as he believes you might be a threat.”
A threat? All she wanted was to disappear into a small cottage in the middle of nowhere. How could that be a threat to anyone?
“I’m assuming that means you haven’t captured Gaius.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you know where he’s gone?”
“Why would I know?”
“You were his accomplice.”
“Hardly,” she denied, her voice harsh as she recalled her short alliance with Gaius. “I was forced to help him search for the prophet. I barely knew the arrogant ass, and what I did know I didn’t like.”
Roke dismissed her explanation with a wave of his slender hand. “Did you travel with him to any other lairs?”
“No,” she hissed between gritted teeth. “And before you ask, he never spoke of any. Our relationship wasn’t based on trust.”
He snorted. “Then what was it built on?”