“I do?”
They reached the outskirts of the chichi suburbs, and Roke veered toward the empty farmlands, barely noticing the lesser demons who scattered in terror at the sight of two powerful vampires on the hunt.
“If Sally is with the Chatri then you need someone who has a basic knowledge of the fey,” Cyn explained. “So it’s me or Troy, the Prince of Imps.”
Roke grimaced. The only thing worse than traveling with the ridiculous imp would be another road trip with the gargoyle.
“This could be dangerous,” he warned. “I’m not Sariel’s favorite person.”
“Hard to believe,” Cyn said dryly.
“He might fight to keep Sally,” Roke pointed out.
Not that he truly hoped he could convince Cyn to return to Styx’s lair. Telling the berserker that there was danger involved was almost a certain guarantee he’d be first in line.
Cyn didn’t disappoint.
Smiling with irrational anticipation, Cyn ran his tongue down the length of one massive fang.
“All the more reason you need me.”
Roke did.
Although he didn’t know if Cyn’s knowledge of fey would actually help when it came to the mysterious Chatri, he was a powerful warrior who could slash his way through a horde of trolls without batting an eye.
“I owe you one,” he said.
“Aye, you do,” Cyn agreed. “Don’t think I won’t collect.”
When Sally was young, she was addicted to fairy tales.
What lonely little girl who was raised by a neglectful mother in bleak, isolated cabins wouldn’t dream of a world where beautiful people twirled through elegant ballrooms dressed in shimmering gowns and sparkling jewels? And where handsome princes tumbled into love with Cinderella even if she was a gawky, introverted witch instead of a pretty princess.
But dreaming of fairy tales and actually being dumped into one were two very different things, she quickly discovered.
She was still struggling against Sariel’s hold when they’d stepped from the portal into a large foyer with massive chandeliers and walls painted with exquisite murals.
Which meant she was completely unprepared for the swift arrival of her sisters and brothers who’d welcomed their father home with a stiff, but seemingly genuine happiness at his return. That had been followed by an endless line of Chatri who viewed their king’s arrival with varying degrees of pleasure.
All of them were, of course, breathtakingly beautiful with hair that ranged from pale gold to brilliant red and lean, elegant bodies dressed in silk robes that were heavily embroidered with priceless jewels. And all of them eyed her with a blatant curiosity that made her want to crawl behind the nearest fluted column and disappear from view.
There was none of the disapproval she’d been expecting, but it was still unnerving being the center of attention.
Her discomfort only grew as they were whisked away to a banquet hall that was twice the size of most football fields and filled with long rosewood tables and high chairs carved by the hand of an artist. The tableware was made of gold and crystal that reflected the magical balls of light that danced near the coved ceiling.
Once they were seated several dozen fairylike servants dressed in modest robes entered with trays laden with fruit and freshly baked bread and bowls of honey.
Sally had dutifully eaten, unwilling to become even more of a spectacle, but as the meal had ended and several musicians had settled in the balcony at the far end of the hall to fill the air with an exquisite melody, she’d become increasingly loud in her demand that she be returned to Roke.
Sariel smiled, promising that she would soon be allowed to speak with him even as he had lifted a hand toward Fallon, one of her sisters, and insisted the female take Sally to her rooms so she could bathe and change her clothes while her new rooms were being prepared.
Swallowing her angry words, Sally had little choice but to follow the beautiful female through marble corridors. Her father might be a powerful king, but in many ways he acted like a child. The more she insisted to be returned to Roke, the harder he would dig in his heels.
She would obviously have to pretend she was content to remain until she could find some way to escape.
Or at least contact Roke.
Fallon took several side corridors, making Sally wonder if there was any end to the sprawling palace, and then they entered a set of rooms that made her breath catch.
There was a delightful warmth in the delicate tapestries that covered the walls and the thickly cushioned furniture that was built for comfort rather than to impress. A cascade of water spilled through a wide crack in the flagstone floor, lined by flowers with vivid blooms in shades from crimson to brilliant sapphire.
It was as if a tiny meadow had just appeared in the center of her room.
Even the attached bathroom was filled with fragrant blooms that surrounded the sunken bath where Sally quickly washed and pulled on a satin gown that had genuine emeralds sewn into the neckline.
She suspected the casual beauty of the rooms was a reflection of her half-sister who lacked the rigid decorum of the others.
Returning to the main living room, Sally briefly put aside her gnawing need to speak with Roke and studied the female who was her sister.
It was a given she was beautiful.
Her hair was the color of a sunrise; gold brushed with hints of pale rose. Her eyes were rich amber with flecks of emerald. And her ivory features were so perfect they didn’t look real.
But there was a genuine friendliness in her smile as she moved toward Sally and gently placed a delicate gold chain around her neck that held a flawless pendant.
“There,” she murmured in satisfaction, stepping back to inspect Sally’s appearance. “You look beautiful.”
Sally wrinkled her nose. “I appreciate the words, but we both know I’ll never make the ranks of beautiful. Especially not here.” She shook her head as she remembered the crowd of females who looked like they should have wings and halos. Only angels should be that gorgeous. “If I was vain, I would have slit my wrists the moment I arrived.”
A shadow darkened Fallon’s amber eyes. “Physical perfection is tedious.”
Sally snorted. “Says the female who can claim physical perfection.”
“You have captured far more attention than I have ever received.”
“Yeah.” Sally shuddered. That sort of attention she could do without. “Because I’m a freak.”
Fallon absently strolled toward the windows where the glow of the sun bathed her in a golden light. Sally frowned. Not out of envy, although she was female enough to feel a pang of regret that she would never be able to compete with such stunning beauty, but at the realization that time obviously moved differently here.