Page 11 of Hell's Secret Omega

Mezor’s brief amusement dies. In truth, he came because he was curious, not because he needs news of the Court. Stores going missing would’ve meant heads rolling under Branok’s reign, but Mezor isn’t managing an army. He’s barely managing himself. Cyrianus’s indignance steals the wind from him.

“No,” he tells the little demon, trying to gentle his tone. “The King is playing a game with us. I have no need of a spy to relay me the dealings of the Court. It means nothing for my work. You should return to him and demand a different deal.”

Cyrianus flinches. “Don’t you think I know that?” he hisses. “I have no choice. This is the deal the King gave me.”

“Not my problem.” Mezor turns away, but Cyrianus takes a step toward him.

“Wait!”

He barely comes up to Mezor’s chest, even his horns a mere handspan from root to tip. This close, Mezor can fairly taste the strange tar scent that surrounds him, which makes his lip peel back involuntarily. It doesn’t seem right that such an unusually soft face should accompany such a foul smell.It’s not like he can help it,he chastises himself.

“I can be useful,” Cyrianus insists. It would sound like begging on any other demon, but somehow he keeps the proud tilt of his head. “Tell me about your bargain with him. You have one, don’t you? Otherwise why work for him? I can help you.”

His boldness makes Mezor laugh. “Little spitfire, there’s nothing you can do for me. My bargain is between myself and the King.”

For a moment Cyrianus looks lost. He tugs at his collar, a nervous gesture that reveals a slice of his slim neck. Mezor makes the mistake of looking.

Cyrianus notices him looking, and his face changes. Mezor’s stomach tightens in anticipation as he opens his mouth.

“What about…something else?” Cyrianus swallows, his throat bobbing. Damn it, Mezor’s eyes are drawn to that, too. “I hear others talk about favors all the time, trading them like currency. I know what they mean. I can do that for you.”

A sudden haze of anger turns his vision briefly red. “Did you dofavorsfor the King?” he demands.

“No!” Cyrianus yelps loudly, too loudly, his fangs flashing and his fists curling into balls. “Of course not. But if you won’t tell me anything?—”

“You’re a mere lieutenant! I can’t trust you with the King’s secrets.” Mezor clenches his jaw.Favors?Is the little demon insane? But Cyrianus’s expression is so furious he relents. “Tell me no one has made you do that for them.”

The thought makes him sick, while at the same time Cyrianus’s proposition stirs a thrill. He must be a monster. But to his utmost relief, Cyrianus’s expression twists into a disgusted scowl.

“Never.”

“Good.” Mezor sighs. He reaches for Cyrianus out of instinct. Bizarrely, he has the urge to comfort. But Cyrianus twists away quickly, misery flickering in his eyes. His tar-like scent rises.

“I don’t know why I even—” Cyrianus growls. “Ugh!”

“Now, listen,” Mezor says sternly. “Why would I entertain someone who can’t even stand to be touched?”

“Just give me a chance to be useful,” Cyrianus mutters.

“Fine.” He folds his arms so he’s not tempted to reach out again. To do what, he doesn’t know. Shake Cyrianus by the shoulders, probably. “I’ll give you four chances. Four meetings, one at every quarter moon. The fifth meeting, you must find your way to me. If you can’t, our bargain is over.”

“What kind of bargain is that? I only have to find you.”

“It’s a lover’s challenge.” He smirks. “Since you propositioned me.”

Cyrianus goes dark all over again, his silvery skin blushing. But he wastes no time. “I accept. That will be easy! I only have to follow you.”

Such a prickly ego. Hah.“Then show me how easy. I’ll even give you a hint—look below, not above.”

“I want something in return.”

“Do you, indeed?”

Chapter 8

CYRUS

Favors?His stupid vergis loosened his tongue as soon as he saw the dark look sweep over his neck. The words were out before he could stop them. The Hunter’s disbelief makes him hot and cold all over.

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