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“Who?” Xel replied, feigning ignorance.
Aldor slid her identification from his pocket and flung it into the mirror. He’d memorized it the moment he’d pulled it from her purse. The chance of this encounter was why he’d kept it.
The creature caught it casually between two long fingers and raised it to his eye. “My,” he observed. “What delicious eyes.”
Aldor ignored the churn in his gut at the many dark insinuations laced in those words. “Find her,” he ordered.
The card evaporated, consumed by the shadow. “It would seem you already have,” Xel replied with a wicked glint in his eye. “And once more you let it slip through your grasp. I wish I could say I’m surprised.”
Aldor’s pulse quickened at the slight. ”Can you find her?”
Xel lifted a stiff dark brow. “Are you willing to pay the price?”
After years of searching in vain, Aldor had come to the creature in the dark mirror out of desperation. Willing to do anything for even a hint that would guide him in the right direction. Xel’voth had given him more insight than he’d imagined, but it had come at a steep price.
Sand from the Pool of Mirrors. The ancient magickal spring his own mother had let steal his soul as a child to garner herself a single wish. His soul was already lost. The Pool couldn’t steal it twice.
Returning to that forsaken place had been harrowing, but he’d fulfilled the request, and in turn Xel had held up his end of their bargain and guided him to her. It had been a sacrifice well worth it in order to find the Star. And then Aldor had let it slip through his grasp. Again.
“I will pay your price,” Aldor agreed, each word like glass in his throat. “Within reason.”
Xel’s expression grew wickedly dark. “Reason is a game of perspectives,” he crooned. “What is reasonable to you may not be to me.”
“Make your request,” Aldor demanded. He had no wish to linger in this conversation, or this place, longer than was necessary.
“I require three objects for what you ask,” Xel bargained.
“One,” Aldor countered.
Xel flashed a knowing smile. “For your soul you would bargain so shrewdly?”
Aldor gritted his teeth. Xel knew he had him over a barrel. “What?”
“One,” the vile creature began, holding up a long pale finger. “I require a bone, any will do, from the tomb of the Dawn King.”
Aldor’s blood ran cold. “No,” he declared. To steal from any of the tombs would be vile. To steal from the sacred, sealed tomb of the Dawn King would be blasphemous.
“Second,” Xel continued, ignoring Aldor’s refusal and holding up another pale finger. “I require the blade.”
“Blade?”
“The dark blade you carry.”
Aldor narrowed his gaze. The blade his mistress had given him, he realized.
“Not now,” Xel clarified. “I want it after it has met flesh.”
“Fine,” he agreed. He would gladly give up the dagger once the vampire was dead. If his mistress requested its return, it would be easy enough to excuse its loss. “But no bone.”
Xel tutted. “Third, I want a book. A red and gold bound book from the king’s private library. You will know it when you find it.”
Aldor had only ever visited his mistress’s outer rooms and the acropolis of the Temple of Light. They were the only places he was allowed on the island. The king’s palace was guarded even more heavily than the Temple. The risk was beyond sensible. It was suicide.
He mulled his options. “The bone and the blade,” he countered.
“All three—or nothing.”
When he’d struck his last bargain, Aldor had vowed never to come to Xel again. Now here he stood. Desperate once more. Xel knew he wouldn’t have come otherwise.
