Page 5 of Wicked Savior
“I’ll have the scribes pull our resources. In the meantime, I know the torque will be in good hands,” I say, walking back over to sit on the throne. “And just to make sure we’re on the same page, I expect this to be the most expensive service you offer. Agreed?” When he reluctantly nods, I continue. “The last thing we need are Underworld citizens running around with copious amounts of stupidity and power.”
He waves a hand. “I’ll send over the spell and associated tools for calling the power. Unfortunately, the power is not a pool you can draw from bit by bit. It’s a one and done explosive hit. There is no time limit, though. You can call it a millennium from now, and it will answer.”
My lips firm. I wonder if that’s how he gained enough power to change his mortality.
With an extremely shallow bow, he asks, “Is that all, Your Majesty?”
“For now,” I reply. “Once I have the inventory list, I’ll let you know if I need your assistance for anything else.”
He stares at me for several seconds. “Thank you.” Then disappears.
My teeth slam together to prevent a stream of curses from spilling out. Except for a select few, nobody should be able to enter or leave my palace at will. Certainly not Cormal. I sigh. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
During a recent battle with the Light Fae, Cormal supplied critical insider knowledge of guard rotations and palace floor plans for the attack. It stunned most of the rulers in the room, including myself. When I returned, I upgraded my entire system with wards and spells. Apparently, it wasn’t enough. Somebody’s head is going to roll.
A chuckle escapes.
He's too smart to reveal his access unless it suits him. Cormal’s either happy to have the artifact back in his possession, or it’s a distraction. Maybe both, knowing him. He lives and breathes strategy. Short plays, the long game, you name it. With this “favor”, he won’t owe me for the torque.
I sigh. It’s still another task to add to the long list on my desk.
With a wave of my hand, I summon a scholar. “Pull everything we have on Druids. From their origin to the present. I want to know it all. Source all libraries, not just mine.”
Surprise appears on his normally placid face. “As you wish, Sire. Anything else?”
A thought occurs to me. “Have someone examine all of the artifacts in our inventory. I want to know if any of them have spells written in Viridian.”
“I’ll get a team on it right away,” he says with a deep bow.
“Thank you. That will be all,” I tell him.
The general returns a few minutes later. Tall and lean, with blue hair and the lightest green eyes, most mistake him for a scholar or a merchant, not the lead general in the Underworld army and my third-in-command. It’s served him well over the years. A vicious fighter, he’s impossibly fast and always strikes with the intent to kill.
“It’s done. All the other estates have been destroyed, and the contents moved to your warehouses.”
“Thank you, Ishkova,” I reply with satisfaction before dismissing him.
My previous second-in-command, Alain, along with the Duke of Malevolentia, tried to lead a coup against me last year. It didn’t end well for them or their followers. Treason is not tolerated. I’ve already lost one kingdom because of betrayal. I won’t lose another.
My lips press together. I’d intended to disperse the estates to my most loyal supporters, but the auction and today’s events changed everything. To the victor go the spoils. I snort.
ChapterThree
LUCIFER
The current second-in-command, the normally unflappable Commander Vargas, paces back and forth in front of my desk. Heavy sighs and the occasional unintelligible, but clearly dissatisfied, murmur spills into the air, conveying his frustration with the status quo. My hand clenches with the need to remove him from my sight, but guilt stops my action. After all, my blood is the reason he’s in this predicament.
When I exchanged blood with Vargas to ensure his loyalty, I never realized how differently demon blood would react to mine. Angels have been exchanging blood with humans from the time of their creation in order to create the guardian bond. Only the angels felt the bond, and when the human died, the bond died too.
Exchanging blood with a demon created a similar bond—but one that went beyond its established boundaries. My genetic makeup altered my bond with Vargas in an unforeseeable way. I’m eternal, not immortal. When Vargas died in battle, his physical body turned to dust, but his spirit was given a choice: life or death. Since his mate is Fae and still very much alive, he chose to embrace life. Unfortunately, it means he has to find a new body to inhabit. Something that is clearly proving hard for him to do.
I eye the almost translucent image in front of me. Right now, his spirit retains the physical attributes from his old body, even wearing the same black leathers and t-shirt. As a Chaos demon, he was unusually tall and stacked with muscle, which typically indicates Lesser Demon blood and an ugly fucking mug. Vargas somehow won the genetic lottery with a strong jaw, dark hair and eyes, and enough swagger to win his equally beautiful mate. He used to say his darkness only allowed Solandis to shine all the brighter.
“Vargas,” I state softly, pausing until I have his full attention.
He stiffens at the sound of my voice, having clearly forgotten my presence, then jerkily turns to face me.
“I’m guessing this one didn’t work either?”
