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Derek adjusted his bright red tie and slid his arms into his favorite Amosu suit jacket. It was woven from a blend of South American vicuna wool, arctic muskox wool, and pashima from the Himalayas. The fine fabric settled around his shoulders like armor, a cloak reminding him of who he was, of the power he wielded, even here in the Earth realm. He was reminded of centuries past. In his youth, he never felt more noble than when he donned his little-used silver empyreal-forged armor and set out to do his duty protecting his people. The weight and the purpose of the armor he wore now had changed, but the feeling was the same. He would do what he needed to do to keep his people safe using whatever tool he had at his disposal, whether that was sword, or influence, or mortal wealth. And the less those under his protection knew about the cost of that safety, the better. That was how it should be, how a true lord should rule.
Soft footsteps sounded just outside his office as he pulled his cuffs straight and fastened the gold and diamond pavé buttons of his suit. Very few people had access to his personal living quarters, and he knew it wasn’t Orion. He’d made sure the incubus was asleep in his own quarters with a light sedative potion. Sometimes Orion needed the potion, brewed by their helpful hedge witch friend, Con, to get to sleep. After recent events—after coming face to face with the knowledge that Apophis was both alive and nearby—the scarred man was afraid his nightmares would haunt him. It was a good excuse to get him to take the potion. And a good excuse to make sure the incubus wasn’t present when Derek pulled Apophis’s heart from his chest and ate it. No need to add to the man’s nightmares, after all.
The footsteps were deliberate, made by someone who could move soundlessly, but chose not to. They hesitated outside his door.
“Come,” he said, both surprised and...not...at the rainbow-tinted vampire magic he could sense nearby. Of course the parasite would know what he planned. He was always too damned perceptive. Derek should have taken care of him like one did any other bug when he first showed up in Derek’s territory. But nooo, he’d adopted the thing because his gryphon friend was squeamish of a little bloodshed.
Derek turned, raising an eyebrow at his visitor. “Trouble sleeping, Vlad?”
Rhys gave him one of those annoying smiles—all golden and charming, as if he really were the innocent, boyishly handsome thing he appeared to be. It was a lie for the comfort of the humans he walked among on a daily basis. No matter how hard he tried, the vampire would always be a predator at heart. Why he hid it, Derek would never understand. He had long stopped questioning the motives of the beings who dwelt in this realm. Better to just accept it and adapt.
“Nope,” Rhys replied to his sarcastic question, wandering over to look at the array of daggers spread out on top of Derek’s desk. “I just kept having these weird thoughts about killing demons. Creepy, right?” He stretched out a long, square finger to touch one of the older weapons. The vampire wasn’t wearing his teaching attire tonight. Rhys looked good in a pair of tailored khakis and a polo, but Derek always thought his hunting garb suited him better. It was more appropriate for an apex predator like the master vampire. Tonight, he was dressed all in black, from the soft, flexible black shoes that would allow him to move with agility and silence, to the black long-sleeved t-shirt that clung to his wide chest and broad shoulders. Derek and the vampire were of a size, and he wondered idly if he could convince Rhys to wear an actual suit the next time they were in public together. Maybe the navy Armani. Or black. Black did make the golden halo of his hair stand out, and highlighted his strangely colored eyes.
He shook himself. Much as he’d enjoy outfitting his soldiers and servants to make a flashy display, most of their work was done in the shadows. Sometimes practicality had to win-out against vanity. He moved around to the other side of the desk to choose his weapons. “Shouldn’t you be at home, enjoying my goddess and your little mer pet?”
The golden boy smile melted into a dangerous smirk that was more in line with the pest’s true personality. “Oh, don’t worry, I made sure to feed before I left. Wouldn’t want to be weak at a vital moment. They were both sleeping when I left, curled up in each other’s arms. Gods, that’s a sight. Poor demon. You’re really missing out there.”
Derek ignored the coil of envy that wound through his gut. That was exactly the response the stupid vampire wanted, and he refused to give the annoying mosquito the pleasure.
“You’re going to find him—the other demon.” The teasing tone had disappeared, and the blond’s deep voice was serious, for once. “And you don’t want anyone to know, so they can’t get hurt.”
Derek shrugged as he sheathed a dagger the length of his forearm. It was imbued with ancient magic. Should work well for cutting out a heart. “Perhaps I simply wanted to work without anyone getting in my way.”
The vampire laughed. Annoying pest. “You can play that whole asshole card all you want, demon, but you don’t fool me. You care, no matter what Troy thinks. And you’re afraid if her or that little incubus of yours find out what you’re up to, they’ll get right in the middle of it and end up dead.”
Derek locked eyes with the vampire, trying to figure out what went on in his blood-deprived head. And why Derek gave a fuck what the vampire thought. “Did you come here to tell me you know all the dark workings of my inner mind? You vampires are a broody lot, but that kind of stalking is so gauche.”
The blond moved closer and hitched a hip against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look. I didn’t come to Ontonagon just for a little sightseeing. You know that.”
Derek nodded. The vampire had been on the run from a particularly militant group of self-proclaimed monster hunters—humans who had the sight. “I’m aware. Why do you think they haven’t bothered you since?” The vampire must already be aware those particular hunters were no longer hunting, no longer breathing. They might irritate each other at every possible turn, but Rhys knew what Derek was. He knew that once Derek promised the vampire sanctuary in his territory, even the bloodsucker’s wellbeing became his responsibility.
Rhys quirked a wry smile at the confirmation of the hunters’ demise. “Yeah, I kind of assumed as much. Thanks.” He sighed. “But I could have taken care of them on my own. If I wanted to. Do you know why I didn’t? Why I was just running blind with no destination in mind, not caring if they caught me or not?”
Derek met the vampire’s oddly colored green eyes. They looked like green sapphire—a sort of clear, yellowish green. He wondered if he could get some sort of jewelry made with the gemstones. Troya would like that. She had always enjoyed pampering her favorite harem members. “You came here because that was where you were meant to be. I learned long ago not to question the workings of the fates.”
Rhys sighed, a hint of pity coloring his expression. “I’m sure you did. Losing Troy must have been one hell of a kick to the nuts. That woman is...well, I’m sure you know.”
Derek arched a brow at him. “Are you trying to tell me you came here so I could kill you? Put you out of your misery? Because this is a good way to entice me to help with that.”
The vampire just laughed, cocky as always, just assuming the demon lord at his side was joking about ripping his head from his body. Sure, Derek was joking. Mostly. He quite enjoyed the parasite from time to time. But the vampire didn’t know that. For all he knew, Derek was plotting his staking even now. And a demon was the one creature on this plane that was stronger than a vampire.
“I’m trying to tell you, I get it,” the vampire said softly. “I know exactly what you’re about to do, because I would have done it myself.” He looked down, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on his thighs as he slouched against the desk, all long, lean predator. Derek watched him warily. It was rare for the vampire to be so serious.
“They killed my child,” the blond whispered. “Took her from me in the blink of an eye. Before I even knew she was in danger. She was just a baby. Only thirty human years old and barely five years into her transition.”
Derek let out a slow breath, feeling the vampire’s pain. For the leeches, there was no stronger bond than the one between a child and their sire—the one who gave them a bit of their own life-spark to breathe immortality into their being. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. Derek was terrible at expressing such things. The words were stiff, like something you would hear a human say at a funeral, completely incapable of communicating what was meant. He tried again, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder and squeezing. “I understand what that means to your kind.”
Rhys shrugged. “I know you do. You’ve got the same kind of built-in connection to the people in your city, right? And I know you’ll do whatever it takes to keep anything from happening to Troy. I feel the same way. I can’t stay behind when I know what you’re up to.” He squeezed Derek’s hand where it still rested on his shoulder. “I won’t lose Troy. And I know you feel the same. Maybe it’s even worse for you, since you’ve known her so long.”
Derek closed his eyes. So long. It had been centuries since he’d seen her look upon him with any recognition. And even now, she did nothing but glare at him in loathing. But still, he would never abandon her, never lose faith in her the way she had lost faith in him.
Rhys squeezed his hand again, then let go. Derek stepped away. Friendship was something he still had difficulty understanding. In the demon realm, relationships had all been about the bargain—about what each person could offer the other. He knew things were different here, and he had learned to adapt as much as possible. He enjoyed calling Gesa and her pride his friends. But what kind of friendship could you have with the one who now owned the heart of your soul mate? He respected the vampire—even more so, when Rhys showed his true nature in moments like this, his heart and honor—but Derek also wanted to wring the handsome man’s neck from the moment he saw a teenaged Troya mooning over the idiot in Gesa’s bookstore.
He forced himself to focus on the game at hand, rather than waste time thinking about the feelings of his knights and pawns. “Apophis is strong, but he was never stronger than me. Something has changed, but I’m not sure what. I suspect he’s feeding off the chaos and rage around him.” He feared it was more complicated than that. But to say anything else would be pure conjecture. He had no proof. And he’d long ago learned that, in this realm, no one took the word of a demon at face value. “I plan to find Apophis and help his head and vital organs part company with his body, as I should have done centuries ago.”
He lifted his eyes to meet Rhys’s gaze. “I appreciate your offer of assistance. However, I’m fully capable of taking care of this threat on my own.”
Rhys stood and slid into the space before Derek with his fluid vampire speed, blocking the demon’s exit. “I’m coming with you. You just said the guy’s stronger than when you knew him before. You need the help. Why are you refusing—”
His light green eyes crinkled at the corners, and the vampire grinned in sudden realization. “Oh. Gods. You’re protecting me too, aren’t you?” He tilted his head back and guffawed, as if the thought were ridiculous. “Seriously?” He looked at Derek again, his smirk turning sultry. “I knew you wanted some of this.” He flashed his fangs, and Derek rolled his eyes, pretending the idea of the vampire’s advances were repulsive.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, side-stepping the pest. “You know it’s just demon...biology. The annoying need to protect my vassals and all that. You’re just one more peasant who needs looking after. Annoying, really.”
Rhys followed him from the room, still grinning like an idiot. “Oh, come on, boss man. Don’t be so cold. I’ve heard stories about what the gods get up to up there in their realm. I bet you and Troya shared a ‘vassal’ or two now and then. Admit it.”
The vampire’s flirting and joking were just a cover for his fear over what they were about to face. His words were meaningless. But Derek couldn’t miss the opportunity to fluster the bloodsucker. He shrugged as they headed down the hall. “Frequently. Her appetite rivaled that of any incubus. And she did so enjoy...watching.” He let his eyes travel over the vampire’s body, quirking his brow as if considering whether the man’s body could hold up to a night with a monstrous demon. “Cleaning up the body parts afterward was always such a chore, though.”
The vampire’s steps faltered, then he lengthened his strides to catch up, a laugh ringing down the deserted halls. “Nice try, demon. But I’m a vampire. I’m not afraid of a little dismembering.” He gave Derek a saucy wink, once again set on ignoring the seriousness of what they were about to do.
Derek suppressed a smile, rolling his eyes again instead. “How much do I have to pay you not to speak for the next twenty-four hours?”