Page 107 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Zarathos didn’t care about platitudes of loyalty. Not if it put his vampress in danger. “If you so much as look at Aryana the wrongway—”
“I realize it will spell the end for me.”
“Good.” He released Pithian, who grasped his throat, coughing as he tried to sooth his pained windpipe.
“We have a problem,” his servant said in a raspy voice. “Sabious says that the potion won’t be ready for several weeks.”
Zarathos scowled. That was far too long. “Did you give them my generous offer?”
“I did.”
“And what did they say?”
“They said it wasn’t about money and that if you wanted it that badly, you could come yourself and strike a bargain.”
He suppressed a curse. “Let's go see them.”
Pithian looked startled. “Now?”
“Now.”
“I have a rather important engagement I must attend. The trial council has called an emergency gathering to discuss the vampire problem.”
Zarathos fingers balled, his nails digging into his skin. Shit. Pithian needed to be present at the meeting so Zarathos could discover the new plan.
“Go. I willspeak to the potions dealer.”
Zarathos stalked into Sabious’s tent. He’d been here many times before and usually Zarathos went through the process of being approved and escorted in. Today, though, he’d remained cloaked, and he’d slid through the shadows, avoiding the extra unnecessary steps. Zarathos needed Neutrolisis, and he needed it soon.
The guards in the tent drew their swords and pointed them at Zarathos. Sabious sat at their table and met Zarathos’s gaze.
“Lower your weapons, men, and leave us,” Sabious said.
Zarathos stalked up to their table, then pulled back his hood as soon as the other demons left. “I need that potion. What’s the holdup?”
He’d been dealing with Sabious for years for his potion supply. They were amongst the small number familiar with Zarathos’s situation.
“I make a lot of potions, Zarathos. Can you remind me what potion that was?” the potion dealer asked. They stared at the demon king with an intense gaze.
How dare they address Zarathos so informally. Sabious felt brave today.
“Stop playing,” Zarathos snarled. “You know that I require the Neutrolisis Potion. I can pay whatever you ask.”
Sabious snorted. “Come now, Zarathos. You act as if the concoction grows on trees.”
It didn’t, but he also knew that if anyone had a chance of getting it for him in the next couple of days, it was Sabious.
They reclined, a smug smile on their face as if they’d won something. “I might be able to get it to you soon, if you make a deal with me.”
Zarathos straightened. Before this, his bargains with Sabious had been minimal. The potion dealer’s expression left him on edge.
Their fingers rapped out a sharp staccato on the wooden table. Tap, tap. Suddenly Zarathos was once again in that small cottage as a boy, threatening Casiel’s parents that if they didn’t turn themselves in he’d hand over their son instead. Zarathos’s first real black deed. He trembled at the sound.
Was this the world paying him back for the evil he committed?
“What are you willing to give me for the potion, Zarathos?” Tap, tap, tap.
Zarathos swallowed, his mouth dry. “Name your price.”
