Was there a hint of a glow around his unmoving body?
“Dammit. This could be a trap.”
She turned her head to meet his worried gaze, her expression pleading.
“I’m sorry, Roke, but I have to try.”
His lips parted, no doubt to continue the argument, but with a hiss of warning he was spinning to the side, his fangs fully exposed.
“Something’s coming.” He paused, using his senses to search what was nothing but darkness to him. “Brandel.”
Sally flinched, forced to remember the greasy spot that was all she’d left of the demon.
“He’s dead.”
“No loss,” a voice drawled as a large, bronzed male began to form from a black mist.
Sally’s eyes widened as the creature solidified.
Completely naked the stranger had the face of a Greek god with a halo of golden curls. His velvet brown eyes flickered to reveal slits of red that proved he was related to Brandel. Not that there seemed to be any love lost.
“The bastard had become too greedy for his own good,” the stranger murmured, smiling at Sally’s shock.
“Sally,” her father’s voice cut through her sudden burst of fear. “Concentrate on your powers.”
Licking her lips she glanced toward her mate. “I have to free Sariel.”
His lips flattened with disapproval, but he gave a nod as he pulled out his dagger and stepped around her.
“I’ll keep him distracted.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Be careful.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Roke took a swift inventory of his enemy.
He dismissed the bulky muscles and image of power in the naked body. The demon was a shape-shifter. He could assume whatever form he wanted.
Besides, a Nebule didn’t need physical strength.
They had far more lethal skills.
What he instead concentrated on was the unmistakable arrogance etched onto the too handsome features and the complete disdain for Sally’s attempt to rescue her father.
The demon believed himself far superior to his unexpected intruders.
And that was his weakness.
Pulling out his dagger, Roke shifted to the side, not halting until the demon’s back was turned toward Sally.
Now all he had to do was keep the bastard talking until his mate could complete her task.
Or kill them all in the attempt.
“You’re wasting your time,” the Nebule taunted, stifling a yawn.
Roke tested the edge of his blade with his thumb. “You think?”
“A human witch can’t break through the barrier and you can’t kill me, leech.”
Not by the flicker of an eyelash did Roke reveal his surprise at the demon’s words. So, he didn’t realize that Sally was Chatri. Or that she was Sariel’s daughter.
Interesting.
He smiled, waving his dagger toward the naked body.
“This is the best you can do?” Roke mocked, deliberately prodding the male’s ego.
It was the most certain means to keep him from wondering what was happening behind him.
The demon frowned. “Are you referring to my body?”
Roke snorted. “You can take any form you want and you end up looking like a porn star?”
“The fey are attracted to beauty.” The male ran a loving hand over his six-pack. “Like a vampire I use my charms to lure my prey.”
Roke arched a brow, studying the demon with icy disgust. “You’re nothing like a vampire.”
“Of course I am,” the male argued, clearly obsessed with the belief he was somehow comparable to a vampire. Inferiority complex? A smug smile curved the creature’s lips. “I even fuck my dinner while I’m draining away their life. Tell me that your climax isn’t better when it comes at the exact moment your prey dies in your arms?”
Roke hid his grimace.
He wasn’t a prude. Hell, he’d done things that would make a nymph blush. But he’d never been a fan of death-by-sex.
“So why not drain the Chatri you captured?” he asked. “I assume he would have more magic than a regular fey.”
“He’s necessary to keep the portal open between our worlds,” the Nebule readily answered, his arrogance enjoying the opportunity to brag.
His words reminded Roke of the imp’s explanation that a portal couldn’t be closed while the fey was still inside and just that quickly the kidnapping of Sariel made perfect sense.
“This is your only way to travel to our dimension?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.
The red slit in the dark eyes flashed with fury. “The Chatri did their best to isolate us, denying my people the magic we so desperately need.”
“Need?”
“Need. Crave.” The demon waved aside the distinction. “It’s all the same.”
Over the demon’s shoulder Roke became aware of a steadily growing light. Sally had found her magic, but it still wasn’t bright enough to be at full strength.
He had to keep the demon talking.
“So you kept the Chatri imprisoned so your people could have ready access to their drug of choice?” he scoffed, not having to fake his disdain.
The Nebule were bottom-feeders who had to steal the powers of others.
“It’s a very profitable arrangement,” the male admitted without shame.
“And what was Brandel’s role?”
“He was to keep a watch on the Commission.”
That explained why the bastard had been posing as an Oracle.
Roke’s pretense of interest suddenly became very real.
“Why?”
“All formal petitions came through him, so he could make sure to destroy any complaints by the fey that they had family disappearing.” He eyed Roke as if expecting him to be suitably impressed with their cunning. “We couldn’t allow the Commission to come snooping.”
He had to admit they’d been clever.
It was no wonder they’d gone undetected for centuries.
The glow became brighter, an unmistakable heat sizzling through the air.
Roke stepped forward, determined to keep the demon’s attention focused on him.
“Why was he after . . .” He bit back Sally’s name. “The witch’s box?”
“Box?” The male looked momentarily confused. “Oh. The defaro was connected to the Chatri; we couldn’t allow the magic to be recognized.” The bronzed form became misty around the edges, as if his temper made him lose command of his form body. “He was supposed to destroy the damned thing.”