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Wrath stopped suddenly, his boots crunching in the crushed seashell path leading to the palace. “No demons.”
“What?” Haziel followed his gaze and looked around them.
“No demons.” Eyes narrowed, Wrath surveyed the area. “Even though most of them left, there should be a few still here.” His jaw tightened to granite. Granite she wouldn’t mind nibbling on.
Gah! This had to stop. “None?”
She sent out her awareness and hit no demon energy signatures.
“There were some of his demons here when last we came.” Wrath drew his gleaming obsidian broadsword. “I’m getting nothing. You?”
“Nothing.” Haziel grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow with a heaven-wrought tip.
Unnatural quiet hung about the palace as if it was holding its breath.
“Even with Shade not here, his demons should be here,” Wrath murmured as he moved forward like a prowling predator.
The gleaming wooden doors hung ajar. Carved into the doors, figures were doing things that brought instant heat to her cheeks and fresh fodder for her imagination.
Stopping, Wrath glanced over his shoulder. “Want to stop a minute and take notes?”
“Pfft!” She matched his teasing tone. “Perhaps you are the one who needs to take notes.”
Wrath chuckled and edged the door farther open. “I’ve already made a detailed study.”
The dying sunlight filtered through a domed glass ceiling and cast soft light on the atrium it sheltered. A large pool graced the center of the long, impressive chamber, and jewel-toned fish darted about its azure water.
Tall, graceful pillars draped in silk flanked the pool, and beyond them, shadowy alcoves beckoned to passersby to take a moment to sink into their silken depths and indulge their wants.
Haziel suppressed an image of a naked Wrath spread over crimson silk.
The lust seal pulsed virulently, and she had to dig her nails into her weapon to stop herself from tackling him into the nearest alcove. Her breasts ached, and her nipples pressed through her linen shirt. Moisture pooled between her thighs, and each beat of her pulse drummed in time to the lust seal.
Wrath cleared his throat and shook his head. “Balls! That thing packs a punch.”
“Yup.” Haziel clamped her teeth shut before a lurid confession escaped her.
His fighting leathers cupped an impressive erection. And Haziel barely suppressed a groan. She’d give two sets of wings to be that leather right now.
Stopping, Wrath tensed and whipped his head to their right.
Then Haziel felt it, the distinctive energy signature of a high order demon.
“Lord Wrath.” A tall demon with finely cut features beneath gleaming onyx skin stepped into the atrium. The faint silver glimmer of a defensive shield shimmered around his lithe form. Clasping his hands before his chest, he bowed to Wrath and then her. “Seraph.”
“Fallen.” She kept her arrow nocked as she returned his bow.
The demon strolled closer, his silk lounging pants fluttering around his shapely legs. Of course Shade would populate his court with sensual and beautiful beings. The demon pressed a slim, elegant hand to his naked chest. “I am called Apassionata.”
“Are you here alone?” Wrath lowered his sword.
Taking that as a good sign, Haziel eased the tension on her bow string.
Apassionata’s shield shimmered and disappeared. “The others have all fled.”
“Fled?” Wrath sheathed his weapon in the scabbard across his back. “Why?”
“There have been a series of attacks.” Apassionata lowered his head. “Some from your realm, Lord Wrath.”
