How did you kill mist?
“You could encourage the Oracles to step up their search for Brandel,” he suggested, not surprised when Styx grimaced.
No one wanted to deal with the Commission.
“I’ll do my best.”
Roke nodded. It was all he could hope for.
“Cyn has promised to discover how we can kill him, but until then we’ll be vulnerable if he attacks.”
“What about the fey?” Styx asked. “It’s going to be difficult to sneak around when you have a parade of fairies following your every footstep.”
It was a problem that Roke had already considered. Beyond all the attention the fey would attract, he wasn’t in the mood to trip over a sprite or nymph every time he turned around. Besides, the adoring groupies were truly freaking out poor Sally.
“Troy is supposed to be spreading the word that Sally is to be left in peace until further notice,” he said.
“You trust an imp?”
“I don’t trust anyone, but he’s at least cleared away the horde that was surrounding your lair.”
“Troy did that?” Styx glanced toward the window, a wry smile curling his lips. “And here I thought my fearsome reputation had been responsible for their flight.”
Roke grunted. “Not even the threat of your anger could dislodge them. The creatures are nothing if not tenacious.”
“Are you taking Troy with you?”
A shudder of horror raced through him at the mere thought. “Good God, no.”
There was the sound of the door being shoved open before the stench of granite filled the air.
“Why would he need an imp when he already has a kicking side?” a French accented voice demanded as Levet stepped into the study along with Sally.
“Sidekick,” Sally corrected, her gaze warily watching Roke’s immediate reaction to the gargoyle’s implication he was going along for the ride.
“No,” he growled.
Her lips flattened at his stark refusal to even contemplate being stuck with the pest.
“We need him.”
“Why would we possibly need that”—he pointed toward the smirking Levet—“lump of granite?”
Levet stuck out his tongue. “Bah.”
Sally made a sound of impatience. “If the demon is capable of changing shapes, we need someone who can use his sense of smell to warn us if he is near.”
Roke scowled, instantly offended. “I’m capable of smelling the demon.”
Levet ran a claw over his tiny snout. “But you do not have my superior senses.”
Stepping forward, Roke intended to toss the annoying gargoyle from the room only to be halted by Styx.
“I hate to agree with the gargoyle, but he does have a better nose,” the king said.
Roke sent him a disgusted frown. “You just want to get rid of him.”
“There is that,” Styx agreed, his smile mocking.
“Enough.” Sally threw her hands in the air, turning to head back toward the door. “I’m going. You can come if you want. Otherwise, stay here.”
Roke was swiftly in pursuit. “Dammit, Sally, wait.”
“Call if you need backup,” Styx called.
Roke stomped down the hall, following his irritated mate and her aggravating gargoyle companion.
“Backup, my ass.”
Sally glanced toward the vampire seated behind the steering wheel of the Land Rover. He didn’t look happy. In fact, his grim expression and narrowed glare suggested his mood was downright foul.
He hadn’t said a word since he’d commanded Levet to take a back seat and they’d headed in a northwest direction at a speed that made her hair stand on end.
Partially her fault, she ruefully admitted.
Since making the decision to try to rescue her father she’d been questioning her sanity.
Did Sariel really deserve her concern?
It wasn’t as if he’d ever given a damn about her. How many times had she’d been imprisoned without her father bothering to help?
Why put her life on the line for him?
She had plenty of excuses, some of them quite reasonable, but no genuine answer for why it was suddenly so imperative for her to release Sariel from his prison.
Was it any wonder that Roke’s impatient announcement she was acting like a fool had scraped against her raw nerves?
Clearing her throat, she tried to break the ice. “Are you going to sulk for the entire trip?”
His gaze remained locked on the highway that was thankfully empty of traffic.
“Yes.”
“That’s your answer? Yes?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want? An apology?”
“I want you to just once listen to reason.”
Well, fine.
She’d tried.
“You didn’t have to come,” she muttered, grimacing as the temperature dropped to near freezing. “Well, you didn’t,” she pointed out with a shiver.
His gaze at last slashed in her direction. “You can’t expect me to be happy that you’re deliberately putting yourself in danger.”
“I’m going to be in danger until I find my father and give him back the box,” she said. “Until then the demon is going to be hunting me no matter where I might try to hide.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t bother to argue. Which meant he’d already accepted she couldn’t hide forever. He was just being an ass because he was scared for her.
“We could have destroyed it,” he countered, his tone more stubborn than convinced they could actually harm the box.
“Highly doubtful,” Levet chimed in from the backseat. “The spell that is placed on the—”
“Shut up, gargoyle,” Roke snarled.
Levet sniffed. “My next road trip will be strictly leech-free.”
“Thank the gods,” Roke muttered.
Sally ignored the two as the upper glyph on the box pulsed a sharper shade of gold.
“It’s shining brighter,” she muttered.
Roke frowned, glancing at the glowing glyph with blatant suspicion. “What does that mean?”
Sally bit her bottom lip. “I assume that we must be getting closer.”
“Already?”
Sally shared Roke’s wariness. She didn’t know where she expected to find her father, but it wasn’t less than an hour north of Chicago.
“I know, it seems—”
“Too good to be true?” Roke finished for her.
“Yes.”
Levet abruptly poked his head between them, his snout wrinkled as if catching a bad scent.