A City of Lies Page 9

  We stilled as two more daemons passed us, muttering to each other about the difficulties of their jobs.

  “I swear, it has all gone crazy since those outsiders came here,” one of them said, then cursed under his breath.

  “The king wants them alive,” the second one replied. “It takes a bit more work, but we have to do it. Put the lens on. You heard what the counselor said. They could be here.”

  The daemon did as he was told, mounting the red lens between his cheek and eyebrow, like an old-fashioned monocle. The elder Druids back on Calliope used to wear the same, albeit in clear glass, to help them see better as their eyes began to suffer the downsides of age. He glanced around, and I pulled myself back behind the statue to stay out of sight.

  “I don’t get it,” the red lens daemon sighed. “Why does he need them alive? Why can’t we just kill them? Or better yet, why can’t we just eat their souls?”

  “Don’t be stupid! The king wants them alive; therefore we will capture them, alive. And even if we were allowed to eat their souls, you’re a lowly guard. The king and the princes get first dibs.”

  “You know,” the red lens daemon replied, slightly amused, “my father said things were different back in the old days, when Shaytan’s father held the throne. He said we had it much better as… lowly guards.”

  The other daemon smacked the back of his head, hard enough to make him yelp.

  “If you want to get yourself killed, keep talking like that, you idiot. But don’t drag me down with you by telling me such nonsense. We serve this king, not his father. Know your allegiance!”

  “Oh, come on,” the red lens daemon shot back. “We both know that the kingdom is much shoddier now than it was five thousand years ago! The pacifists are stronger, and we both know that there is an uprising coming his way!”

  “Okay, smartass, then who will you bet on? The almighty king, with his army of daemons, generals, death claws, pit wolves, and magic? Or a handful of weaklings, who have simply gotten better at passing messages to one another throughout the city?”

  “They are smarter than you think.”

  “I keep telling you to stop being so gullible and downright stupid, and yet you go and double down on this nonsense,” the backhanding daemon shot back. They moved forward, and farther away from us. “The king will crush them eventually. We already have Mose. After him, the others will fall like saplings in a thunderstorm.”

  They continued arguing as they patrolled the hallway, but the main takeaway from their conversation was quite clear: the daemons had minds of their own. Not all of them agreed with Shaytan. However, his armed forces had bigger numbers, and had a pretty good chance of crushing any rebellion. At the same time, with a little help from us, perhaps the “pacifists” could, eventually, overthrow this evil regime, and maybe even rescue their fallen brothers, Mose included, from jail.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Jax whispered, then found my hand and pulled me after him as he shortened the distance to the meranium box.

  The sound of footsteps behind us prompted us to swiftly hide behind another statue, crouching so that its base could keep us covered from any red lenses. I couldn’t see much from that angle, but the three pairs of feet that passed by were not those of guards. I caught glimpses of smooth leather and gold buckles, snugly tied around thick, muscular calves.

  They went inside the hall next to us, and their voices echoed into the hallway.

  “Ah, it took you a while to get here,” Shaytan’s voice boomed, sending chills down my spine. I immediately stood and tiptoed to the doorframe, peeking into the large, sumptuously gilded hall. We had actually reached the throne room—and it was truly a gorgeous sight to behold, with lavish velvet drapes covering the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows, gold and gemstone embellishments covering the walls, and, of course, the enormous throne, sculpted entirely out of black obsidian, and tastefully adorned with more gold and perfect diamonds.

  Several servants stood quietly, lining the walls on both sides of the throne, while his two counselors—judging by their elegant, yet non-regal attire—settled by one of the windows. Shaytan sank into his throne, letting out a long sigh of relief, and leaned into the soft pillows behind him.

  My heart stopped beating as soon as I laid eyes on the figure standing in the middle of the hall. My hand instinctively caught Jax’s wrist, squeezing tightly. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but my blood instantly boiled.

  “Yes, well, the gorges are never kind to a Mara,” Darius replied with a smirk.

  He was alive. Dressed in his usual luxurious silk garments, Darius didn’t look as though he’d been charred in a fire. If anything, he was glowing, his lips stretching into a satisfied grin. I swallowed a curse, trying to figure out what was going on. The Lord of House Xunn had been identified among the remains that we had retrieved from the devastated mansions. We’d seen his Lordship ring. We’d literally held his funeral service earlier that morning!

  And yet, there he was, breathing and kicking, and a guest in daemon city.

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” Shaytan replied, his fingers tapping the armrest. “All my subjects know not to touch you.”

  “Not all of them. But don’t worry, I made sure they were brought up to speed,” Darius retorted.

  “I hope you left them alive.”

  That hadn’t been a casual remark. A threat bubbled beneath it—I could tell from the lower tone that the king of daemons had used.

  “They’re alive, Your Grace.” Darius bowed reverently, and Shaytan responded with a nod. “Thank you for having me over.”

  “It’s not like you had anywhere else to go.” The king smirked.

  “Yes, well, desperate times.” Darius shook his head. “And speaking of desperate measures, where is the rest of the GASP team that came over? Have they been captured?”

  I felt Jax’s arm snake around my waist. He was ready to hold me back, because he knew exactly what my first instinct was—to immediately go out there and cut Darius’s head off. It took a couple of seconds of deep breaths and additional focus to keep myself under control, and to stifle the rage that was pouring through me.

  Darius had faked his death. Did his daughter know? She couldn’t… She’d been devastated. I’d seen it in her eyes, on her face. I didn’t know how she could have faked that kind of raw pain. Her grief was all too familiar. Whatever this was, I wasn’t sure it involved the others.

  Had he gone rogue? Had he been talking to Shaytan? Were they in cahoots, somehow?

  “Let us call it a work in progress,” the king replied.

  The Mara had something to do with this. We were being hunted, and he was one of the masterminds behind it all. I had trouble wrapping my head around this. It was a development I simply hadn’t seen coming. Who could’ve? I mean, I’d watched his funeral pyre burn until there was nothing left but ashes, his daughter standing by the side, holding his Lordship ring and crying her heart out.

  “How long until you catch them?” Darius asked. A slight frown pulled his brows together as he briefly glanced at the two counselors by the window. Neither of them looked pleased to see him there, but it didn’t look as if they had any other choice but to tolerate his presence.

  “Obviously, the sooner the better, but I cannot possibly predict anything at this point. My soldiers will get them. I have something they want.” Shaytan grinned. “And from what you’ve told me, they don’t leave any of their own behind.”

  Son of a…

  “Good. I don’t feel comfortable kicking off the next stage of our plan with those four running around, all loose and whatnot. I cannot guarantee the safety of my people while the succubus and her acolytes roam free,” Darius replied.

  I gripped the handle of my broadsword, squeezing tightly as another means of preventing myself from attacking him right here and now.

  “Do not worry, my friend. At least we have the dragon and the fae,” the king said. “It renders the others less effective, without their firepower. Th
ey are virtually useless without the dragon.”

  “We can both agree on that. They haven’t left the city, though, have they?” Darius asked.

  “Like I said, they will try to come for their people. They are not leaving the city. Not of their own accord, or mine. All the tunnel exits are guarded.”

  “I trust your judgment, Your Grace.” The Mara bowed curtly, keeping his hands behind his back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little peckish. Let us meet again in the morning and catch up. Perhaps, by then, you’ll have the others in a meranium box.”

  “Of course, make yourself at home,” the king replied. “I shall see you again in the morning.”

  Jax pulled me back behind the statue as Darius came out of the throne room and walked down the hallway, toward the north side of the palace. I breathed out, still stunned from everything we had just witnessed.

  “Should we go after him?” I whispered to Jax. “Whatever he’s planning, we need to know. We need to find out. It’s not just our lives at stake here. The others are back in Azure Heights, and they have no idea.”

  “We’re better off focusing on Blaze and Caia at this point, Hansa,” he breathed. “No doubt, whatever Darius is doing, we’ll need to warn the others. And that includes the Maras who are out there mourning his death.”

  There was no time for us to further discuss this. Jax was right. Blaze and Caia were our priority, and they weren’t too far away, either—provided we were on the right side of the palace. We had to get them out first, escape this wretched city, make it out to the western plains, and regroup there.

  This wasn’t my first taste of betrayal, either. Although, the last time I had been double-crossed, I had lost many of my sisters and daughters. I had buried that grief, and focused on revenge. There was a lot of darkness and anger boiling inside me, and Darius’s actions had brought it all back to the surface.

  My muscles ached, as did my heart, and fear gripped my throat with its cold, icy claws. I couldn’t bear to lose anyone again. Not Jax, not Blaze or Caia, not Harper or Fiona, or anyone else for that matter. I was done burying my loved ones because some asshole chose to betray me and his own people.

  Just as I had cut off Goren’s head during our war against Azazel, I knew my broadsword would soon taste the blood of Darius Xunn.

  Harper

  (Daughter of Hazel & Tejus)

  As Zane went about his business throughout the western wing of the palace, Caspian and I stayed close, but always out of sight. The daemons in possession of red garnet were wearing the lenses at all times, making it a little bit more difficult for us to sneak around. Fortunately, Shaytan’s palace furnishings were numerous and large enough to conceal us.

  Zane exchanged a few words with various guards, which helped us find out more about their positions, their orders, and their overall state. Most of them weren’t all too happy with having to look for us, and some of them seemed to be quite fond of Zane, as the youngest and friendliest of the princes. He seemed to have a good relationship with the soldiers. Based on their remarks alone, Zane’s brothers were the textbook definition of entitled jerks.

  “Just keep your eyes open,” Zane told two of the guards as they moved farther down the hallway and away from us. “If I were you, I’d focus more on the northern wing, particularly on the ground floor, since the outsiders will most likely come through there.”

  The daemons nodded and continued their patrol, while Zane went deeper into the first floor of the western wing. We followed him, quietly, as he took us into a massive hall, and I found myself holding my breath for a couple of seconds, marveling at the stunning beauty around me. The place was huge, and hot baths and water canals were carved into the black stone floor, right in the middle.

  Large steps allowed smooth access to our level, and wildflowers, layers of colorful silk, and soft satin cushions were scattered all over. Amber lights glimmered from the overhead chandeliers, giant contraptions made of pure gold and loaded with perfectly polished crystals. Dozens of daemon females sauntered around, their bodies scantily covered in red and gold silk, with gemstones adorning their long and curved horns. The majority were relatively young, but there were slightly more mature females resting around a firepit.

  The one thing they all had in common was the joy they seemed to experience at the sight of Zane, who put on a broad smile and offered them a courteous and ample bow. They all hummed and giggled, some of them gathering around him and dropping kisses on both his cheeks. Zane seemed to be the apple of their eyes, but he was the center of the universe to one specific daemon female. She stood up from her clique by the firepit and put her arms out with a radiant smile.

  In some ways, she reminded me of Grandma Sofia, her timeless beauty and grace amplified by her luxurious garments, not to mention her long, ink-black hair, flowing freely down her back. Her bright red eyes lit up as Zane walked over and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. I realized then that her incandescent expression was one of pride. I had already figured out that Zane was surprisingly influential and loved in this place—but the adoration pouring out of this daemon female, in particular, was genuinely heartwarming.

  It showed the daemons in a different light. For a split second, it didn’t feel as though we were surrounded by bloodthirsty fiends eager to eat our souls. They seemed capable of intense and positive emotions. It made me wonder how many of them were truly murderous, and how many were simply forced to obey their king.

  “My darling,” the female daemon purred, caressing his face. “It is so nice of you to come see me.”

  “It’s always a pleasure, Mother,” Zane replied gently, then briefly glanced our way, as if quietly introducing us to his mother. “How is life in the harem these days?”

  “It’s the same thing every day, my darling.” She sighed. “I’m one of the fortunate ones, as your father no longer has any business with me. Me and my elderly sisters, we hang out by the fire, bathe in the hot waters, and teach the younglings how to best please the king.”

  “I take it he’s taken a new wife?” Zane muttered, glancing toward a group of young females at the far left corner of the hall. The one in the middle was wide-eyed and seemed out of place, her gaze darting around, glimmers of fear making it clear that she’d yet to get accustomed to her new “home”.

  “He hasn’t told you, has he?” There was a tinge of sadness in his mother’s voice. “It’s okay, Zane. We will take good care of her.”

  “Just make sure she doesn’t become another Luella,” Zane breathed, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t know what I will do if she ends up the same way.”

  “It’s been two years, my darling. You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened. Luella had a strong spirit, and your father was well aware of that when he brought her over. It’s on him, and only him. Some creatures are simply too wild to be tamed.”

  Zane measured the new female from head to toe for about a minute, before shifting his focus back to his mother.

  “She’s… what, his fourth this year?” he asked.

  “You know how he gets when he’s anxious,” his mother replied. “A wife always soothes him; hence a harem that keeps growing makes your father happy.”

  “How long has she been here?”

  I took a better look at the young female daemon in question. Her hair was long and fiery red, braided with strips of black leather, and she’d been squeezed into a tight, tan leather dress, its shade lighter than her skin. Her lips were full and soft, her red eyes inquisitive, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. The mixture of fear and anger drawing shadows on her round face was all too familiar. She was the ferocious tigress captured by poachers and stuffed into a cage—albeit an enclosure covered in gold and gemstones.

  Shaytan had plenty of wives, and continued to get more… It said a lot of things about him, and none were positive. He was definitely a big, strong, highly feared and respected ruler, and yet he needed the feminine softness in his life—as much of it as po
ssible. I figured it could, at some point, be used against him.

  “Just a couple of days, my darling,” his mother replied. “Of course, she isn’t happy to be here, but we are doing our best to keep her safe. All she needs to do is listen to us, and she will survive.”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t told me about her. I don’t think he told anyone… He usually revels in his wedding ceremonies and lavish dinners,” Zane scoffed.

  “With everything that has been going on, and especially after what happened to Luella, I’m not surprised at all that he didn’t tell you.” She gave him a weak smile. “He is afraid of you, you know.”

  “What are you talking about, Mother? He just threatened to exile and kill me if I don’t get in line and play along.”

  “Exactly, my darling. He wouldn’t care about what you have to say if he were not afraid of you. He saw how Luella changed you… He will never admit it, though. Your father is a proud daemon, but believe me when I tell you he fears you more than any of his sons. Don’t let him think he has any power over you.”

  Zane took a step forward, inching closer to his mother so he could whisper in her ear. “Be careful what you say, Mother. These walls have ears, and you know how much the king loves to eavesdrop on his ladies.”

  She hugged him again, then nodded at Shaytan’s newest wife, gesturing for her to come closer. The young female frowned, but listened, and walked over to Zane’s mother’s side. She put an arm around the younger daemon’s shoulders.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ondine’s new quarters are ready.” She winked at her son. “I’ll leave you to your business, my darling. Just be careful.”

  “You too,” Zane replied. “Don’t get yourselves into any trouble. The king’s fuse is short these days.”

  He bid them farewell, then walked back out to the hallway. Caspian and I followed, keeping to the side, so we could jump behind any of the statues and pillars ahead if more daemons passed by.