Page 81 of House of Demons and Bones

He let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes right through his dragon mask. People these days? Zero respect.

I strode toward the House of Demons like I owned the joint, working to steady my racing heart. Powerful supernaturals—especially shifters and vampires—could pick up on heartbeats. I hadn’t tested it on demons, and today wasn’t the time to find out.

Rowan strolled beside me like he was strolling in a park. Being born into privilege had its perks.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said. “If this goes to shit, I’ll have to step in and save us from any embarrassment.”

“Embarrassment should be the least of your concerns,” I offered.

A group of demons in their house uniforms made a beeline toward us, and Rowan stiffened. I had history with their light-skinned leader, Amon. I’d beaten the shit out of him once and earned both his grudging respect and secret admiration.

At over seven feet tall, he towered over me.

“Stop!” he barked, cutting us off.

I paused, and Rowan halted beside me. He eyed the demons with distaste but kept his mouth shut—he’d agreed to let me take point on this one.

I pulled off my mask and shook out my golden curls, letting my pink flowery gown with its attached wings swish around me—the same gown Grace wore to the party.

“What, Amon?” I snapped.

“Princess Grace?” Amon’s voice held a note of uncertainty.

“Who else would I be?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes.

His crimson eyes peered into mine, trying to make out their color in the dim light.

Sy had used her new power to glamour my eyes honeydew green, an exact match to Grace’s. My double had tried to seduce Killian by changing her eyes to match my two-toned ones, so it only felt right to return the favor.

He nodded, satisfied after confirming my eye color.

“Just making sure Ugly Barbie doesn’t sneak in,” he said. “She’s too clever, and she always shits on her opponents.”

“Don’t flatter her,” I barked, indignation creeping into my voice. “And you’re vulgar!”

“Best not to underestimate Ugly Barbie again,” he said, shaking his head. His twin ebony horns caught the hellfire’s glow. “According to our moles in other houses, she’s stolen from and raided every single one.” Rowan tensed at hearing that there might be moles in his own house. “Who’s to say she won’t get into ours?”

“She won’t be able to trespass,” I said cockily. “We have the tightest security.”

“They say every house’s magic does her bidding, and even Underhill made a lair for her,” Amon said.

How did he know that Underhill had built a whorehouse for Sy?

I sneered. “Barbie isn’t all that. Stop licking the bottom of her boots. Now move.”

“Why are you back? Shouldn’t you be at the party?” he pressed, but he stepped aside as he asked.

“I got an itch,” I said with a shrug.

Amon glanced between me and Rowan, letting out a lewd chortle. Rowan growled beside me, and I gripped his arm to keep him from blowing our cover with his self-righteous indignation. Sy’s fury at the demon matched his.

“Well, I get it,” Amon said. “But isn’t your task to lead the chaos heir astray?” He gave Rowan another once-over. “I’m certain this guy isn’t him.”

“I need a break, all right,” I snapped. “And the next time you ridicule me, I’ll remind you exactly where you stand in the hierarchy.”

He raised his hands in a gesture of mocking surrender. “You’re very sensitive these days, Your Highness.”

He didn’t respect Grace—no surprise there. Supernaturals only respected strength, and demons took that rule to the extreme. No wonder—Sy and I had made Grace look weak on multiple occasions.

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