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She sent him a wry glance. “Being trapped isn’t my nightmare.”
Ryshi nodded. Many vampires chose dank lairs that were buried deep underground or hidden in the darkest crevices of a mountain. Places that made his imp soul cringe in horror.
“Then what is your nightmare?” he asked, in desperate need of a distraction.
“The Anasso showing up on my doorstep.”
He released a sharp laugh. “That is a nightmare for anyone.”
She continued to study him, her expression one of genuine curiosity. “If being trapped bothers you, then how did you survive being locked in Styx’s dungeon?”
Ryshi turned his head, pretending to search for the exit. He didn’t want to lie to Sofie. Not when he was suddenly hoping that there might be a future for them that didn’t include chasing miniature gargoyles and braving the labyrinth. But he couldn’t be sure that the Anasso didn’t intend to throw him back into the dungeon as soon as he returned to Chicago. He couldn’t risk being truly locked away. And not only for his own sanity.
For now, he had no choice but to keep the truth to himself.
“I entertained myself by tormenting the guards,” he said. It wasn’t a lie. He’d spent many enjoyable hours teasing the leeches until they threatened to carve out his tongue. “And if I became overly bored I would create enough trouble for Styx to pay me a visit.”
Her eyes narrowed, the silver band around the blue shimmering in the muted light. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Ryshi jerked his thoughts away from his time in the dungeon, concentrating on their surroundings. The growing bond between them allowed her to see more than he wanted.
“There’s lots of stuff I’m not telling you.” He released a tendril of smoke, sending it to brush against her cheek. “I have to maintain some air of mystery.”
Her jaw tightened, as if she wanted to demand an answer. Then she shrugged. Was she accepting that she couldn’t force him to tell her the truth? Or had she lost interest?
“Okay, then tell me why you were sneaking into the lairs of vampires,” she commanded.
Ryshi swallowed a chuckle. This female had a talent for asking questions he didn’t want to answer. She also had a talent for stirring his desire, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. And fascinating him in a way he couldn’t entirely explain. As if he’d been waiting for her for a very, very long time.
“To pass the time,” he said in a deliberately offhand tone.
She shook her head, disbelief etched on her beautiful face. “You have your demon club.”
Ryshi clicked his tongue. “It’s not a demon club, it’s a shisha parlor.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A style. A vibe. A certain je ne sais quoi that isn’t available in any other demon club,” he explained. “Any idiot can serve grog and offer naked dancers or fighting pits to sate the masses. I offer a place of tranquility. It’s…”
“Special,” she offered.
“Exactly.” He flashed an approving smile. “Just like the owner.”
She rolled her eyes, but didn’t allow herself to be sidetracked. “It had to be more than a means to pass the time.”
Ryshi slowed his pace as they neared yet another intersection, searching his brain for a lie that she would accept.
“I told you,” he said at last. “Jinn are addicted to the rare and unusual. On occasion I feel the urge to search for items that capture my interest. Where better to look than the lairs of leeches who are notorious for plundering treasure from lesser demons?”
Her disbelief never wavered. “If you really wanted treasure you would seek out a dragon.”
Ryshi glanced at her in genuine horror. He had heard stories of the outrageous wealth that could be found in a dragon’s hoard. Not just gems, but priceless magical artifacts. And when he was young and foolish, he’d occasionally dreamed of trying his luck sneaking into a dragon lair. Always assuming he could find one. But as he grew older he wisely realized that no artifact was worth being consumed in a fiery blast of flames.
“I desire excitement, not certain death,” he said in dry tones.
“You don’t fear vampires?”
His gaze skimmed over her pale, perfect face. Fierce sensations jolted through him. A tangled combination of lust, enchantment, and a sizzling sense of anticipation that was intoxicating.
