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ONVIER PACED UP AND down in an empty building in the Shifter District. He had news he needed to share with Azazel. He’d sent the demon a letter half an hour ago and he still hadn’t shown up yet. “Finally!” he snarled when Azazel slunk into the building a few minutes later.
“What’s so urgent that you required my presence immediately?” the demon asked, wrapping his tail around his leg and folding his wings around his body.
“I’ve been gone from my office for too long,” the Guild Master said in a surly tone. “I’ll have to teleport us to the guildhall before anyone grows suspicious.” He knew it was dangerous to take his ally to his office. He’d scheduled a meeting with another powerful guildmember that he intended to bring beneath his control. His next victim was due to arrive soon. “I’m going to make you look more presentable before we leave,” he said, striving for diplomacy.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Azazel asked in affront. A spell enveloped him when the elf chanted and pointed his wand at him. He looked down to see he now looked like a human. “You call this presentable?” he asked and poked his potbelly.
Onvier gave him a withering look, then teleported them to the City Square. He didn’t flaunt his ability to teleport in front of the general population. Too many of his guildmembers already envied him for his position. They knew he was powerful, but he would gain more enemies by displaying his skills openly.
He led his ally into the Magic Guildhall, graciously nodding at his lowly minions as they headed up to his office. He stepped inside and closed the door behind Azazel, then cast the warding spell. It immediately stripped away the illusion spell on the demon. It also prevented anyone from being able to listen in to their conversation. He wouldn’t require the spell to bind the demon to him and deactivated it with a flick of his wand. “There, we can speak in private now,” he said in satisfaction. “I don’t have much time, so we need to make this fast.”
Azazel slunk over to one of the wooden chairs that sat in front of the desk and sank down onto it. Onvier rounded the desk and sat down in his own chair. “So?” the demon drawled. “What news do you have?”
“I’ve managed to procure a copy of the spell that will forge us into a triumvirate,” the elf said. More specifically, a fairy he’d recently bound to him had a copy of it. He’d given it to him last night.
“Now all we need to do is decide on a third person for our triumvirate,” Azazel said, leaning forward with a sly grin. “Unless you still need to steal more power from your sycophants?”
“I’ve nearly reached my goal,” the Guild Master said. “I have a list of potential allies that may be suitable to become our third.”
“Am I going to get to help you choose who we’ll become bound to?” the hell spawn asked.
“The final decision will be made soon,” Onvier said evasively. “I’ll send you a letter when I’ve narrowed down the list a little more. I’d better teleport you back to the catacombs before my guildmember arrives for our meeting.”
Azazel held his hand up. His expression turned sharp as he inhaled. “We’re not alone,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” the elf asked in bewilderment.
“I can smell someone else in here.” The demon took another deep whiff, memorizing the scent. “It’s a woman,” he added, picking up the delicate and feminine scent.
Onvier cursed when someone knocked on his door. His momentary distraction was enough for the intruder to go into action. He saw a blur of motion as the female emerged from behind a bookcase. She was wearing a hood, so he didn’t see her face as she sprinted towards the window. She crashed through the glass and vanished from his sight.
“Guild Master?” the lackey said as he knocked on the door again. “You have a meeting with one of our guildmembers!” he called out. The ward only prevented anyone from hearing what was going on inside the room, but the occupants could hear through it.
“Did you see her face?” Onvier asked Azazel.
“No, but I have her scent,” the demon replied. His scarlet eyes blazed in his face. “I’ll hunt her down before she can relay our plans to the Immortal Triumvirate. If she’s still alive,” he added. He loped over to the window and looked down. He didn’t see a body splattered on the ground below and assumed she’d somehow survived the fall.
“Go,” Azazel urged him as the lackey knocked on the door again. He released his ward as the demon leaped through the broken window and flew after the intruder. The elf repaired the shattered window with his wand a moment before the door opened. He forced himself to smile at the minion and guildmember he was about to bind to his service. “Take a seat,” he invited the nervous fairy who was fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. “That will be all,” he said to the minion, who bowed and left, closing the door behind him.
Onvier cast a look at the repaired window as rage threatened to overwhelm him. There could only be one reason for someone to hide in his office. The Immortal Triumvirate had sent one of their assassins to kill him. He hoped Azazel would be able to catch her before she could report back to her masters. Otherwise, they would both be executed as traitors.
