Chapter Three #2
“Yes,” I gasped, desperation heavy in my voice. “I swear I will make it worth his while if you bring me to Sitri.”
The demoness’ eyes flicked over me, alight with an unknown intensity. She scanned my face, ran her gaze over my body, and then refocused on my lantern. I held my breath, not daring to move an inch as she studied me.
A moment before my lungs began to burn, she spoke. “Fine. I will bring you to Sitri if you insist. Whatever it is you want, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. The Prince despises unwanted visitors.”
“Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”
That was the only reply I managed. My faith in Zaleos faltered. What had I gotten myself into, coming to a place like this and risking another bargain? I’d walked this road before, paid the price for my hubris. And here I was, prepared to do it all again.
It didn’t matter; my chance to turn back had come and gone. I stepped into the mansion. The door snapped shut behind me, trapping me in a house of demons.
I clung to my lantern as my lifeline, hoping in vain that it might grant me safety.
Its flame was too weak to illuminate the entire foyer.
I caught glimpses of walls, wooden trim, and corners of furniture, but that was all I saw.
My hostess waved for me to follow, then set off into the darkness.
She led me through claustrophobic hallways lined with rooms. The floors resembled hardwood, though their texture seemed softer than I expected.
The smooth, slightly supple surface soothed my feet as I walked.
My mind, however, was anything but soothed.
Goosebumps rose on my arms, and my hair stood on end. I was instinctively aware of a primal evil inside the mansion, and the last thing I wanted was to meet it. To meet him.
The demoness paused before a door much larger than the others, stained a near-black color, and carved just like the one in the entryway. Instead of slaves and servants, it featured a collection of bare-bodied demons in various compromising positions.
“This is the end of the line, human. Are you ready to make your case?”
I tried to swallow my fears, only to find my mouth had gone dry. A faint tremor started in my hands. I hoped the Prince wouldn’t notice.
“I think so,” I said, knowing damn well it was a lie.
There was no way I’d ever be ready. I didn’t want this, didn’t want to confront him, didn’t want to lose the only barrier between myself and the Prince of Lust and Lies.
My desires didn’t matter, though. Awareness of that fact sat like a stone in my stomach.
The demoness rapped against the door. Through it came the sound of rustling papers.
“Come in.”
Sitri spoke in a deep, uncanny voice, with a slightly husky quality that made me want to bolt through the mansion’s halls and search its endless doors for a way out of this nightmare.
The demoness who brought me to him had no such reservations.
She followed his command, opening the door and revealing the void beyond.
Was it my imagination, or had my lantern failed to banish the shadows stagnating in the room?
The air carried a chill that the rest of the mansion lacked.
On its heels came the overwhelming scent of smoke and sandalwood.
No matter how I squinted and angled my light, the gloom blinded me, preventing me from finding any details in the dark.
“What is this you’ve brought me, Mara?” There was that voice again, so intense and inquisitive that I shuddered.
“A human, Prince Sitri,” the demoness answered. “She has something peculiar to ask you.”
Total silence reigned. I bit my tongue, afraid of being the one who broke it. There came an odd scraping and a deep hiss as Sitri struck a match. A candle flared to life, casting enough light for me to make out my would-be benefactor. I didn’t care for what I saw one bit.
His tall frame sat in an even taller chair.
It might have passed for a throne, had it not been for the heavy desk that eclipsed it.
His hair was dark as night, wild and untamed, racing down his face to become the stubble on his jaw.
His well-defined features only heightened the piercing intensity of his eyes.
They gleamed like silver mirrors. Invoked images of my former mentor’s, which shone with a similar metallic quality.
And then there was his smile, wide and impossibly toothy. Something only a villain could wear.
Sitri clad himself in strange armor made of hide and hard-tanned leather. Lean muscles rippled where it failed to cover him. He carried raw power in his body, but despite his toned physique, he moved with grace. Finesse. An impossible blend of strength and precision that no human possessed.
Using one hand, Sitri propped up his head. The other held the match he’d used to light the candle. The demon Prince brought it to his face and blew out the tiny flame. If he wanted to snuff me out, it would be an equally trivial affair.
“Well?” he prompted. “Go on now. I do hate to be left waiting.”
I drew a breath. Sitri’s overwhelming presence served as a reminder; the words I said next would determine my fate.
“Prince Sitri, I wish to bargain with you. I’m in need of protection—”
The Prince raised his hand to silence me. My voice died.
“This is how you ask for help, human?” Mischief gleamed in Sitri’s eyes. His wicked grin and playful tone sent fear into my marrow.
“Come in, have a seat. Take a load off. Make yourself at home. You’ve made it to the lion’s den, darling, and it’s about time we find out if you can escape my claws.”