A pristine kitchen gleamed to my right. The immaculate surfaces reminded me that he wasn’t human and wouldn’t abide by human rules. I would be dealing with magic vastly different from the witches.
“You’ve made quite the impression among the other denizens, Kara—vampire whisperer,” he said, pulling my attention away from the unsettling details of my surroundings and escape routes I was scoping out. Meeting his odd eyes, I responded with a plaintive smile.
“I believe there is more to you than the gift of coaxing the blood suckers into civility. Am I wrong?”
I beamed. “Definitely. I’m a master with a crochet hook. Just give me some yarn and I’ll prove it to you.”
His brows drew together in an expression that plainly showed he had no interest in my crochet skills and didn’t find me humorous.
“You appear to have your own whisperer, or perhaps spy,” I ventured. “How did you know I wanted to meet with you?”
“Would it be too arrogant to say that most want an audience with me, they just don’t know it?”
Not arrogant at all. Just woefully unaware.I forced my expression to stay neutral.
Before I could press for an answer, Cirrian’s annoyingly familiar voice said, “I had the pleasure of providing that information.”
He entered the room through a hallway I’d missed during my initial assessment of the house. The person who came into view was a version of Cirrian. This one had deep ruby irises ringed inblack. His black-taloned hands held a tumbler of ocher-colored liquid. I snapped my open mouth closed and blinked away my stare. A rueful smile curled Cirrian’s lips before he took a long drink from the glass.
He retracted his claws in a similar fashion as Diehle had done. The darkening of Cirrian’s eyes mimicked Diehle’s. His were more unnerving because I knew what his real eyes looked like.
What the actual fuck?
Didn’t he have collections to make? Other people to annoy? Places to be where he could show off his unnecessarily handsome face? His presence shifted my mood from wary apprehension to agitation because I knew that this meeting with Diehle was just entertainment for Cirrian. And he wasn’t rooting for my success. Despite expecting Cirrian to be involved, the confirmation irked me. It felt like he was attempting to wrench away any semblance of control for the sake of amusement. I shot him a glare so sharp his smirk fell.
“Ah, you two don’t seem to have the amicable relationship I was led to believe,” Diehle crooned, intrigue and amusement laden in his voice. Obviously he was drawn to chaos and strife. Stepping back, his gaze bounced between me and Cirrian, who’d raised his glass to me before emptying the contents and placing it on a nearby table.
“These aren’t the eyes you met me with. Let me put you at ease.” Cirrian changed them to the enchanting amber eyes rimmed with hunter green that captivated me before.
A demon and death in the same room had to be the intro to a devastating story. Was this a preview for the rest of my day?
Diehle refocused on me. “How may I be of service to you, Kara?”
“Service implies that anything done will be from the goodness of your heart. We know that isn’t true. Any deals madewith you will be anything but that. And you’d probably decline if there isn’t a benefit to you.But, if you’re offering favors, I’ll happily accept.”
He turned to Cirrian. “She’s as direct and fascinating as you described.” A spark of interest played in his eyes; he too seemed to be in need of some entertainment. “How are you two acquainted?” he asked.
Cirrian’s eyes bore into mine. “I believe I’ve been appointed the job ofhater. There don’t seem to be any perks or benefits that come with it. Just a self-serving position.”
“From the looks of it there’s enough hate to go around,” I shot back, attempting to soften the ire in my expression. Heat ran over my cheeks and slowly inched toward my neck. This was just a game to him. Whereas saving Amelia was a priority for me, releasing his friends didn’t seem to hold the same importance for him. Or perhaps he was certain I wouldn’t pass the Spellrend and gain access to my magic.
“Better question, how do you two know each other?” I asked.
Diehle waved his hand. “The rumored discourse between our kind is grossly exaggerated. I respect those who are older and more skilled than myself. There is much to learn from them.” The way he looked into Cirrian’s new eyes with admiration, it was apparent it was a skill he wanted to learn. Slightly darkening his eyes screamed demon, but changing them the way Cirrian could would allow him to blend in, unnoticed.
“Perhaps you can offer me guidance on how to persuade Kara to introduce me to Belh or Corrine.”
I wondered if the mispronunciation of Belham’s name was intentional and some strange act of aggression. It was nearly impossible to mispronounce Corrine.
“Bell-ham,” I corrected then directed my attention to Cirrian’s taunting smirk. “Aren’t I lucky. Two demons for the price of one.”
Cirrian bared his teeth in a smile at the edge in my tone. “I’m simply here as a curious observer. We already have a deal that I’m quite satisfied with.”
That admission had Diehle salivating at the opportunity to make his own satisfying deal with me.
“I need to talk to you,” I demanded from Cirrian through gritted teeth. He had the audacity to look shocked by my request. Assuming Diehle would leave to give us privacy, I was surprised when he signaled for us to follow him. I fell in step next to him while Cirrian sauntered several feet behind. He led us down the same hallway Cirrian had appeared from. With each step, the passageway seemed to get longer and darker, making me question if he had the ability to make the house a maze so that it would be impossible to find a way out. I felt less secure with each step we took, but I found comfort in my stored weapons.
Dark-mahogany wainscoting lined the lower half of the walls, while the upper portions were painted a deep burgundy that appeared almost black in the dim lighting. Sconces shaped like gnarled hands clutched orbs of subdued peach light that cast long dancing shadows across the floor.
