Page 42 of Sanctuary with Kings

"I want to know what is happening," I said gently. "You can shelter me from Birsha's reach, but please don't hide information from me. Not for my sake."

Asterion bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"What are the temples?" I asked.

Asterion settled back in his chair, Conall and Laszlo returning to the meal. "They are how Birsha has survived. He binds monsters, consumes their vital organs, symbols of our strength or power, and casts dark rites that hold those bodies in the last moments of life, sustaining the vitality through the part he's taken into himself."

I grimaced at the description, and Asterion nodded.

"You said the temple near Jerusalem was destroyed. When was this? How long before The Seven Veils fell?"

"His focus was on the Company of Fiends at the time," Conall murmured.

"The what?"

"A theater that hired monsters and humans to perform…sexual acts? Skits?" Asterion looked charming when puzzled.

"Entertainments," Conall drawled, answering for him.

Asterion hummed and nodded. "Sexual performances for an audience of monsters."

My eyes widened. "That exists?"

"Bawdy and pedestrian," Laszlo murmured, drawing our attention. He blinked at me. "I went once, long ago. Not long after Hywel started his slumber."

"Birsha had left it alone in exchange for a cut of the profits, but it was gaining popularity again and he grew impatient. Tried to force it into closing," Asterion said. "Instead, he gained himself more enemies and us more allies."

"According to the sphinx and his family, they destroyed the temple more than a month before The Seven Veils fell," Conall mused. "They started their journey back to England not long after."

The conversation continued on around me and I shut my eyes, trying to mute their voices and the information, digging back in memories I would've rather left buried.

Warm fingers laid heavily over the back of my hand. "Forgive us, we need not speak of him or that place."

I shook the cobwebs from my thoughts and opened my eyes, meeting Asterion's, his gentle focus probing openly now. "I'm fine, I swear it. I was only trying to recall that time."

"You needn't," Asterion continued, but Conall leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"You think you might remember something significant?"

The vision of The Seven Veils came too easily, superimposing itself over the room we sat in. Red leather wallpaper replaced Laszlo's bookshelves, the fireplace obscured by the memory of the small stage where Birsha had invited clients to sample his wares. Behind me must loom the oversized couches and chairs, and I could almost imagine the creak of the furniture protesting the bodies occupied there. Perhaps it was some effect of Hywel's magic, or maybe my thoughts were never as far from my time trapped there as I wished they were.

"He was always in the front rooms, encouraging the behaviors, encouraging the witnessing," I said, my voice rasping. "He wanted the monsters to see each other."

"Yes," Asterion murmured in agreement. "It was a way to encourage those who might be reticent, who only came because they could not find relief elsewhere, to act abominably."

"He liked to watch you lower yourselves," I said. Asterion only dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"But for months before the fall, he…he was not in his usual pattern. There were weeks none of us saw him at all," I remembered.

"Recovering from his injury from Miss Reed, no doubt," Conall murmured.

"Even when he returned, it was only for brief moments. I'd spent…a few years…behaving myself," I said, the words foul on my tongue, drawing an involuntary heave in my gut, and I pressed my hand over the spot. "I hadn't thought of escape in so long, I'd given up, but…it made me start to wonder again. And then one day, he came to the floor. He was pale, and he brought one of the trolls who guarded the house with him, and—"

"They dragged you out of the room," Asterion said, voice low and dark.

I blinked and turned to him, and the silhouette of his horns fit easily into the backdrop of The Seven Veils lounge. He'd been there that night.

Asterion nodded. "Yes, it would fit the timeline. He must've felt the effect of the temple falling. He would not risk losing you too. I am sorry,théa," Asterion said, leaning toward me in his chair, drawing my hand beneath his closer. "I am sorry I did nothing then."

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