Chapter Fifteen #2
My entire body felt as though it had been flung into a fire.
“He is not my future father-in-law. And, no, I absolutely do not. This is—the marquis is returning to Hell, and I am not going there. Not now, not ever.” Unless I did something terribly wrong, like perhaps partake in convivial society with the Marquis of Hell when I should be making certain the empire was safe, or something like that.
Then I might find myself there after I’d departed this mortal coil.
She jerked her chin toward where Marcellus and his father were speaking.
“I saw how he looks at you. That’s not just lust, Cora.
I’ve seen enough of that to know. That is the look of someone who is besotted.
You should think about what you will do when he asks you to make your choice.
” She held up her index finger, as though making a point, when I was about to speak. “Not if, when. Because he will.”
Oh dear. This was not something I wanted to contemplate, not now when we had a few possible leads but nothing substantive. We needed to focus our attention on getting Marcellus’s father out of danger, not on satisfying our urges.
But what had he said? I knew I had to do something, or I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. The same was true for me; I had been thinking of almost nothing else all week, but after, I was able to focus on the information we’d learned.
Right. Focus. I needed to focus. Which meant I needed to clear my head and get to thinking.
“I need to check in with Marcellus—that is, the marquis. What about you?” I asked.
Lily jerked her head. “Looks like he’s returning. I’ll go find Hannah.” She strode away in a red satin whirl, the guests she passed stopping to stare. Lily had that effect on people—much like Marcellus did.
“Did she have anything to say?” Marcellus asked as he came to my side.
“Nothing I wish to share with you,” I said primly.
He grinned. “Nothing I haven’t heard or seen before, you mean.”
I blushed. “Never mind that. I was hoping the Queen would be here by now. We have a lot to— Oh, I forgot!”
“What is it?”
“Lord Hennawi, he asked if you would like to meet with the Queen.”
He frowned. “Me specifically?”
“Yes, he rather got the impression…” I said, trailing off.
“I see. Yes, it’s probably preferable that I present things to my father rather than have the two of them set their egos against each other.”
Just then, the pleasant butler announced, in his stentorian ogre voice, “Her Majesty the Queen! And Her Royal Consort, Prince Albert!”
The two appeared at the doorway, the Queen in a flouncy cream-colored gown that made her look like a petit four, while Prince Albert’s muttonchops made it hard to look at anything else.
“Excuse me,” Marcellus said, going forward to greet them. The Devil sped by me as well, smoke trailing in his wake, while the other important demons—Phenex, Keres, and a terrifying one I could only imagine was Jirzinar—followed.
I couldn’t hear what they said, but there seemed to be general pleasantries exchanged, with the Queen even smiling at one point. Marcellus gestured toward the table with the greatest number of desserts, and the three demons who weren’t the Devil or his son cleared a path.
Jirzinar was tall and broad, their (or it?
I wasn’t certain) skin a grayish-tan color.
Their face was mostly brow ridge, looking more like a primate’s rather than a human’s, with black eyes with no white.
It was very creepy, and I’d even seen chimeras up close.
They were sparsely covered in fur, and they didn’t have legs, per se, but one clump that rolled along the ground.
I repressed a shudder as they went past. I hoped I wouldn’t have to have anything to do with them. Not just in the roasting-Cora way but in the interrogating-for-the-purpose-of-investigation way as well.
The Queen glanced at me as she walked past, and I was struck by her power—even a glance was enough to make my knees wobble. She was short and rather dumpy, and wasn’t the most attractive person I’d ever seen, but she possessed a presence that couldn’t be denied.
I would hate for her to be disappointed in my work. Almost as much as I’d hate to be spit roasted by the Devil.
“She said the party theme is quite clever,” Marcellus said, coming back to my side. The Devil had cornered a footman and was busily draining every glass of champagne on the terrified servant’s tray. “So at least that part is working out.”
“We’ve got quite a lot more information as well,” I said.
One side of his mouth curled up. “Not to mention the terrace.”
“Don’t mention the terrace,” I replied, blushing. I wondered if Mrs. Collins had any mixture to keep a person from blushing. Though that might just have the side effect of turning me into a bar of soap or something.
“I’ll keep mentioning the terrace as long as you react so appealingly,” he said. He paused. “Or until we have a better memory to replace it.”
My eyes widened, and he laughed. I was tempted to punch his arm again, but there were guests around, and I didn’t think that would be appropriate.
“Speaking of Lord Hennawi,” I said, in a desperate attempt to change the topic, “have you seen him? Or Mr. Connors?”
He shook his head. “No. Not that I remember precisely what they look like. One is the tall, slithery one, and the other is the dog?”
Not the most flattering descriptions, but fairly accurate. “Mm, yes. I should go see if I can find them. It is quite a crush—you succeeded in having a successful party.”
“Of course I did.”
I rolled my eyes, then went in search of my bosses.