Chapter 7
Will
“Boots, Angel.”
Will glanced up at Rion, startled by the authoritative tone. It only took a second for him to realize the demon was referring to his knee-high chunky leather boots – complete with series of metal buckles – which were resting against the antique coffee table.
“Relax,” he responded, though he removed the boots and tossed them aside. He parked his bare feet back on the coffee table.
“Don’t you wear socks? That’s disgusting,” Kitty said as she made a face.
“See what I must contend with on a daily basis,” Rion muttered, giving his sister a look of exasperation.
“Don’t get me started on your quirks, brother.” Her lips lifted at one corner.
Will sorted through the books and passed one to Kitty and another to Rion.
Each one felt like it weighed a ton, giving their task an air of impossibility.
Silence fell over the group as they became engrossed in the reading.
As usual, the books were filled with fascinating information, but none of it provided the answers they were looking for.
“What’s going on in here?”
Vixen stood in the doorway, clad in flannelette pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved t-shirt, which didn’t quite meet in the middle. She pulled the top down hard to cover her belly and tousled her bed hair.
“Research, apparently.” Kitty yawned.
Vixen’s brow furrowed. “Have any of you even slept?”
“Unfortunately not; this is urgent,” Rion said quietly, without looking up from the text he was studying.
“Okay. Fill me in on where we’re at.”
Vixen sat cross-legged on the couch next to Will, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He grinned and turned his head to kiss her on the lips instead. Once he’d handed her one of the Unholy texts, he gave a brief account of the situation.
“… And you’re certain it’s in a book?” She asked.
“We’re hoping it is,” Will said with a sigh.
On an adjacent couch, Rion massaged a brow. “I am beginning to question the notion. Either we are looking in the wrong sector of the vault, or our plan is flawed.”
“What did Lyla say about it?” Vixen asked.
“We… have not asked her.” Rion’s brows lifted in unison.
It should have been their first move; they all knew it.
“Why didn’t we think of that?” Will asked, looking at Vixen with a mile-wide grin.
“For the love of…” Kitty closed her eyes and sucked in a swift breath. “I have got to start asking better questions when I get dragged into other people’s bullshit. Lylathia, daughter of the fifth realm, Bringer of Winter, would you please join us?”
For a moment, nothing happened. Will repeated Kitty’s statement. Sometimes, mentioning an immortal’s full title multiple times, gave the call more strength.
Lyla appeared, flustered and frustrated. Her hip-length platinum blonde locks were disheveled, and she was still in the process of hastily fastening a short robe which left most of her long legs bare.
“Did we wake you?” Rion asked.
“No.” Lyla said quickly.
Will took in the unusual discomposure, and the fact her lipstick had been smeared. When he’d visited the penthouse earlier in the evening, the women had been playing poker in their pajamas. She hadn’t been wearing make-up then.
He thought about the fact that as a demon, Lyla’s very existence had been solely to provide heirs for the Eighth Lord.
She’d been nothing more than a pawn, and with winged children, her very life had been at stake.
Right up until Tobias and Will had included her freedom along with Rion’s in their negotiations.
They’d been back in the In-Between for just over a week. For the first time, Lyla was free to make her own choices. So, she decided to hook up with someone. Good for her. A year ago, Will would have made some kind of wisecrack. Today, he held his tongue. Lyla deserved a little anonymity.
“We interrupted her…” Vixen realized.
Clapping a palm to her forehead, Kitty groaned. “Seriously? Is everyone getting it on tonight?”
Will cleared his throat loudly to interject, but Rion was already speaking.
“Who…” He began, expression filled with disbelief, and then stopped. “I retract that. It is better I do not know.”
“Yes, better you do not ask. Did you have a genuine reason for summoning me?” Lyla asked, her tone laced with the beginnings of anger.
“Ahem!” Will said again. The room fell silent. “I think we’ve all gotten a little distracted. Yes, Lyla, we did have a reason for calling you. A bunch of stuff went down at Diabolus Loco, and we are trying to get to the bottom of it.”
Rion, who still looked somewhat embarrassed, began the task of filling her in on the night’s events.
“Tobias lost eight people?” Kitty breathed. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? How did I fail to notice? I should have felt something…”
“He’s getting pretty good at masking these days,” Will said gently. “Plus, I helped.” He wiggled his fingers to imply the miracle he’d woven.
Kitty sighed and massaged her brow. “Okay. Thanks.”
“What exactly do you need to know?” Lyla sat down on an ottoman and adjusted her robe. “I will help if I can.”
“We need the names of the nine original Undead kings,” Will replied.
“Make a salt circle,” Lyla ordered.
Will’s brow furrowed. “The penthouse already has the strongest wards possible. You want to make a ward within a ward?”
“Yes. The nine original kings are linked to my ex-husband, the eighth lord of the lower realms, whose name I will not speak until you make the new circle. It is unlikely he will be able to cross the wards you have created, but he may still listen. A second ward can prevent that.”
“I thought he freed them,” Vixen said.
“He permitted their freedom, but he is still connected, for his power created them.”
“What if he’s re-ignited the bond?” Kitty blurted. “What if that’s the reason all Hell is breaking loose among the Undead?”
“Make the circle!” Rion demanded of Will.
“Me? You’re better at it than I am,” he replied.
Lyla shook her head. “No. It must be you. You are the only one capable who is not somehow connected to the eighth lord. Rion, you should fetch some paper and a pen.”
With a perfunctory nod, Will arose and went to the urn on the mantelpiece, where Rion kept his salt.
The urn had once belonged to Rion’s birth-mother, and held a lot of angelic power.
It was one of the reasons the Penthouse wards were impenetrable.
Combined with Rion’s own power, it created a fortress.
Will hoped his own formidable angelic power would merge with the salt in the same way.
He sprinkled a boundary around the couches in the center of the room, to encompass everyone.
As he did so, Will murmured words of power in the ancient language of the angels and wove a protective ward.
By the time he had finished, Rion had the pen and paper ready. They both nodded for Lyla to begin.
They spent an hour pouring over the list and contemplating theories.
So far, the notion Lyla’s ex-husband – incidentally the father Kitty and Rion shared – had taken control back over the vampires seemed the most likely.
Given that Leviathan was the Lord of Chaos and Wrath, and ruler of the eighth realm, it was a foreboding concept.
“I don’t think we’re going to make any more progress until the two of you get some sleep,” Vixen said to Rion and Will.
“You have a valid point.” Rion sighed.
“We could all do with some time,” Lyla agreed. “Call me later in the day if I am needed.”
“I’m going to check in with everyone at Diabolus Loco, then head home to catch some ZZZs,” Kitty announced.
“All right.” Will nodded. “Vix, wanna have breakfast with me before I crash?”
She smiled in response. “Of course.”